Shhh!

I loved this devotional by Dietrich Bonhoeffer (on Bible Gateway):

The first service one owes to others in the community involves listening to them. Just as our love for God begins with listening to God’s Word, the beginning of love for other Christians is learning to listen to them. … We do God’s work for our brothers and sisters when we learn to listen to them. So often Christians, especially preachers, think that their only service is always to have to “offer” something when they are together with other people. They forget that listening can be a greater service than speaking. Many people seek a sympathetic ear and do not find it among Christians, because these Christians are talking even when they should be listening. But Christians who can no longer listen to one another will soon no longer be listening to God either; they will always be talking even in the presence of God.

I don’t know if being still and actively listening to someone is a cultural talent or a human one. I tend to believe that it is something learned; it is more akin to a skill, sort of the mirror opposite of public speaking. Based on experience, I have a hard time believing we enter earth with an innate pull to listen instead of speak. Regardless of its existential provenance, I have come to believe that connectivity with my brothers and sisters is far richer when I tame my instinct to demand to be heard. The quality of any conversations should not be judged by the dominance of speaking time. I don’t just have to get my story across, no matter how fascinating I personally may find it. My opinion on the narrative floating around my brain is biased and self-aggrandizing. I am subconsciously working to make myself patently relevant, deserving of laud.

Mr. Bonhoeffer offers a possible explanation for the peace I find when I am successful at tamping down my pride long enough to truly listen to another (instead of just hearing them): it aligns well with a Christian mentality, if not actual doctrine. Without getting twisted around into a logic pretzel regarding “works”, I know that Jesus exhorted us to serve others. Serving others means setting myself aside, refusing to feed my inner-narcissist. Listening – truly, actively, intently listening – is a form of service. I am performing a small act that is meant to convey that what that person is saying is something to be valued because that person is valuable.

In addition to being an act of service, there are clear personal benefits (if I must indulge my selfish instincts even for a moment). First, I benefit from the fact that I am no longer working over whatever issue is most recently plaguing my thoughts. If I am mentally engaged with what someone else is saying, I cannot pay homage to the beast of worry and anxiety. Second, I am someone who is (unfortunately) known as a person who struggles to remember things. I am known that way because I am that way. My brain often wanders when others are speaking. If I can (somehow) train myself to stay focused, surely I will find it easier to retain whatever information is being sent my way.

Jesus was all about others. One does not even have to believe in his divinity to see that he walked the earth reaching out to everyone, but particularly to those who the world was far less inclined to notice. He exuded the empathy that we all want from, but struggle to offer to, others. Yes, his miracles were what everyone talks about (for good reason), but I need to remember that every act he undertook began by first listening. He listened to his father first, but he also listened to his children on earth who were in pain. He already knew their pains. He could have just healed everyone without bothering with personal engagement. But he also understood that humans have an innate need to feel connected and heard – a need to be valued. So he first listened, and then he served.

Feeling the pain

“…each of the redeemed shall forever know and praise some one aspect of the Divine beauty better than any other creature can. Why else were individuals created, but that God, loving all infinitely, should love each differently? And this difference, so far from impairing, floods with meaning the love of all blessed creatures for one another, the communion of the saints. If all experienced God in the same way and returned Him an identical worship, the song of the Church triumphant would have no symphony, it would be like an orchestra in which all the instruments played the same note.”
– C.S. Lewis, from The Problem with Pain

This quote from Mr. Lewis was referring to something else, but it still spoke to me this morning. Given recent events, my mind gravitated to how the tapestry of our lives creates a beauty that we often fail to appreciate. God allows our lives to intersect in ways that helps us know him far better than if we were never forced to wrestle with painful moments. And these unique moments are precious opportunities for each of us as individuals to connect with our loving father in ways that literally nobody else can. I have to learn to embrace them as opportunities for spiritual growth and not as something to just get through. “This, too, shall pass” is a mantra by which I have always confronted painful “life events.” In some cases, it helps, but I have grown to lean on it far too often. I am one who has always manically pounded down any emotions that might pop up, like a 5th grader whacking moles at a Chuck E. Cheese. One stuck his head out and refused to go back down.

Yesterday, our family finally made the decision to end our young Golden Retriever’s suffering. His name was Jasper, he was four years old, and to explain that he was “Special Needs” does not scratch the surface of his manifold issues. The most problematic of his challenges was what we decided to label as “epilepsy.” In truth, it was possible he had a brain tumor that was causing the seizures, but diagnosing and treating would have been a step too far for our budget. So we gave him as comfortable of a life as we knew how.

The seizures became continual and seemingly painful. He could not break out of them for longer than a couple of hours. We prayed about the right time, and we all felt sure that helping him transition to a peaceful place was the humane thing to do. I know that there are those out there who may roll their eyes because he was “just a dog” or quickly claim that our family of pets do not go to heaven. I feel indifference at these reactions. Jasper was a powerful presence in our family, and we loved him. Whether or not the bible references his afterlife is unimportant in my mind. I believe God loves all the creates he created and offers some form of salvation, even if we are unable to define it.

Lord, we are so grateful that you allowed Jasper to enter our lives. He was beautiful, frustrating, exciting, gentle, and loving. We experienced you, father, in every interaction that we had with Jasper. We experienced them in unique ways, and we grew closer to you through them. Help us fully embrace the pain that comes from his absence, and help us hold closer to the love you created in each of us.

The power within us

My mother passed on to me a quip that I have subsequently proffered to friends and family in some form of distress like a volunteer who holds out Dixie cups to marathon runners as they stream past: “There is power in forward movement.” I don’t know where she heard this little bumper sticker of a mantra, but when I pondered it, and more to the point, when I conformed to it, I did feel a small surge of what I can only describe as power.

This morning, I read a post by The Mind Connectory about taking one step at a time. I loved the sage advice / reminder offered to those of us who can feel overwhelmed with what life is tossing our way. It is easy for me to focus on the panoply of hurdles and feel depleted, lacking the hope and optimism that is at least somewhat necessary for engaging with the world. Pausing to train my mind onto the “next right decision”, and allowing the rest to blur for the time being, fills me with energy, with a small purpose.

When I was in my severe depression, my mother continually pushed me to focus my mental energy on whatever it was that I needed to make it through that one day. What “one step” might be the catalyst to a moment of peace? If I would just make one movement toward something filled with light, I might start to feel a presence that was there to embrace me, not to destroy me. She never let my doubts and cynicism dissuade her. She would often throw out the old chestnut, “When you’re sick and tired of feeling sick and tired,” you’ll look up, and you’ll find a peace that passes all understanding. My looking up became my next right decision, my forward movement, my one small step.

Others may roll their eyes, but focusing my mind on something as simple as a journal entry that was required to incorporate scripture became a little energy source. I had to take action. I had to do something. I could not rely on just praying about things. I am obviously not telling you prayer doesn’t work. But for me, sitting and praying was an action that was primarily inside a location I needed to leave – my uncontrolled thoughts. Yes, I am thinking while I’m writing, but I am making use of a different part of my brain. I am forcing myself to actively think of something other than whatever might surreptitiously creep its way into my consciousness. I am in control of what receives my time and attention.

Yesterday I wrote about worrying, referencing Matthew, chapter 6. At the end of the chapter, we are admonished against filling our hearts with concern for what God will surely provide. In verse 33, the apostle wrote “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”. Seek first. Do this one thing. This is your next right decision. The rest will follow.

True freedom

Devotional from Dietrich Bonhoeffer:

Do not worry! Earthly goods deceive the human heart into believing that they give it security and freedom from worry. But in truth, they are what cause anxiety. The heart which clings to goods receives with them the choking burden of worry. Worry collects treasures, and treasures produce more worries. We desire to secure our lives with earthly goods; we want our worrying to make us worry-free, but the truth is the opposite. The chains which bind us to earthly goods, the clutches which hold the goods tight, are themselves worries.

Abuse of earthly goods consists of using them as a security for the next day. Worry is always directed toward tomorrow. But the goods are intended only for today in the strictest sense. It is our securing things for tomorrow which makes us so insecure today. It is enough that each day should have its own troubles. Only those who put tomorrow completely into God’s hand and receive fully today what they need for their lives are really secure. Receiving daily liberates me from tomorrow. (emphasis mine)

The beginning of a new year is quickly approaching. Many of us view “change” as the raison d’etre for the arbitrary date of January first. This devotional grabbed me and shouted through my soul to “pay attention!” I am sure anyone who knows me could quickly and easily list out numerous suggestions for possible changes. Some would be easy: exercise more, read or re-read the classics (if I’ll watch a movie multiple times, why not explore a book for at least a second time?), be more present for family, turn my phone off, …, ad nauseum. My self-flagellating nature would facilitate the creation of a list a long as me. But this list of “easy” items, while broad and encompassing myriad aspects of my life, all have one thing in common: physical attainability. Deciding to “do” something and following through is easy for me (well, all evidence to the contrary). It may require some will power, but I have little doubt that I could actually accomplish a task, or even choose to alter the way I behave. Mr. Bonhoeffer touched on something that is both a fundamental part of who I am and is exceptionally difficult. How does one decide to worry less?

One of the hardest places to exist (for me) is in the present. My past negative experiences are on constant replay in my mind. Recalling positive ones requires me to decide to remember them (if possible). The negative memories rap on my mind’s door, screaming for the attention they know I will provide. Any thoughts about the future are no less depressing. I can catastrophize anything about life. My concerns typically stem from seeing our world through a lens of scarcity. Will there be enough ______? The only time I can technically live in the present is when I am focused on a task (working, writing, reading). If I fix my mind onto an activity, I can mentally move into the present state of being engaged with that activity. Otherwise, those tenacious ghosts of past and future drown out the spirit of the present.

The bible covers “worry” more than any other topic (at least according to one source I read). Clearly, I am not the only person who struggles in this realm. I believe that the primary reason many of us battle this particular demon throughout life is because we have yet to truly believe in the core messages throughout the bible, including the gospel and Christ’s explanation of God’s nature. It sounds harsh (or at a minimum bold) to question a person’s belief in something so fundamental. But I have a hard time understanding any other explanation.

Worrying about the past must mean that I have not fully connected with Psalm 103:12:
“…as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.“

Worrying about the future betrays a lack of confidence in Matthew 6: 25 – 34:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?“

Clearly worries can extend far beyond past mistakes or future pecuniary possibilities, but the point is the same in all cases. Our Father in heaven has a plan for how everything plays out. Worrying about the results is “fighting a fight that’s already been won” (shout out to Mercy Me). And no amount of mental gnashing of teeth will have any impact on the end results (at least the results that really matter). Lord, help me turn my attention to your care and love. I don’t want to wait even the few days left in this year to start. Help me empty myself of worry. Help me fill myself with the assurances that come through connecting with you.

What is my law?

One of my many struggles relates to justifying myself to the world. I cannot claim to believe that the world continually demands evidence of righteousness. This particular neurosis is of my own creation. A supervisor once commented to me that I am someone that always needs to “have pelts nailed to the wall.” He was a hunter, and his point was that I refused to believe that, lacking tangible evidence of something created, I was accepted by my colleagues. I harbor a perpetual need to hold something up (almost literally) as proof that I belong, that I matter, that I should be valued. Participating in meetings is insufficient. I feel considerable discontinuity with life if it has been more than a few days since I have indirectly reminded people that my presence is a net positive to the world.

I think this mental and emotional fragility is part of the reason that I struggle with the gospel. The idea that I don’t have to do anything to justify God’s grace is practically impossible for me to fully absorb. I just read Galatians. The concept that stuck in my head revolved around Paul’s explanation that those who continue to rely on the law have fallen away from grace. If they rely on the law, they have to rely on it fully. They cannot both follow the law as a means to salvation and claim that they believe the good news. The two concepts are mutually exclusive.

I feel for the Jewish community that was trying to adapt to a different way of believing. Changing how someone believes around any random topic is challenging. People believe what they believe. Look no further than our current political climate as evidence. Changing how one believes about the eternal afterlife must be agonizingly hard. If every person at the time had witnessed Christ’s miracles, things may have been at least somewhat easier. But even then, we read that there were many who continued to turn toward traditional methods of worship in spite of having seen first hand the clear evidence of Jesus’s divinity. Handed down through ancestors, the law was how they structured their lives for centuries. Dismissing it as no longer necessary must have been torturous. I can imagine the apoplexy some would exhibit today if a charismatic speaker started gaining public support (at least here in the US) through explaining why the Bible was somehow incorrect, and we Christians have to change the way we believe in order to secure our eternity. That would be a tall hurdle to say the least.

I grew up in a Christian environment (well, sort of). It took me a long time to truly start following my faith, but I at least had the advantage of being told about the gospel for many years. Given that fact, it is interesting to me how hard it is for me to accept it fully. What is the (unwritten) law that I am constantly trying to satisfy? To what am I clinging in hopes of somehow showing God that I am worthy? No, I did not witness Jesus’s miracles, but his message has been part of my culture for as long as I can remember. I have been told more times than I could possibly count that my salvation is secured through faith; that aside from devoting my life to Jesus, there is nothing I can do to solidify my justification. I do not have to continually show God why I deserve my spot in heaven. I do not have to keep updating the CV of my life in order to make the best case for my soul.

Whether it is among my family, friends, coworkers, or creator, I am on a search to truly feel the release of living with the full assurance that I deserve what has been freely given to me.

Lord, please watch over me and fill me with your spirit. Fill me with the understanding that my life was bought and paid for through your sacrifice. Refusing to fully accept this gift is nothing short of an insult to you. It is like I am saying that your blood just was not precious enough to justify my existence in your home. This is so far from my belief that it is painful to even contemplate, let alone write. Help me learn to relax and know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, and that you are so happy with the young man you embraced as your child.

What is so urgent?

In the immortal words of the band, “Alabama”:

I’m in a hurry to get things done;
Oh, I rush and rush until life’s no fun.
All I really gotta do is live and die;
But I’m in a hurry and don’t know why.

This is a sort of family joke about how I approach, well, everything. If I’m driving someplace, I bounce around lanes, thinking I’m going to find a lane that will get me to my destination maybe one to two minutes faster. If I’m watching television, people in the room can hear an audible sigh when a 45 second commercial break pops up – and I mean I do it every single time. In these moments, I’m not really all that disturbed, at least not on an emotional level. The moment of annoyance dissipates fast (although, the new negative energy I spewed into the room may be felt by my family a tad longer). However, this involuntary reaction to life’s moments seeps into areas that are less innocuous to, and more lasting on, my emotional state.

An example happened just last night. I was walking around the grocery store with my daughter. We needed to stop by the pharmacy and discuss a problem with one of the prescriptions that we received. We had to wait to speak to the pharmacist, and we waited almost a half-hour. Nothing was resolved, so we turned to leave. Annoying, to be sure, but again, just one of life’s many moments. Sometimes things work out well. Sometimes they don’t. That’s easy for my brain to process this morning as I’m thinking about it over a keyboard. But in that moment; while it was happening; something clicked into gear for me. I became conscious of the waste of time, and I began feeling shame for forcing my daughter to wait 30 minutes just to see me fail. However, I could not just leave the store. I had one item I was holding that I needed to buy. But my brain had already started descending into irrational brain.

As I was walking, my daughter had to remind me that I was holding something and couldn’t just leave. I had to actually pay for it. I chuckled through my embarrassment and released irrational brain to just go ahead and flip over into free-fall mode. I began walking really fast (outpacing my daughter by several steps); trying to find the shortest line; thinking about whether I should go to self-checkout or stand in a line where a guy had only four or five items. Could I get all the way to self-checkout, finish, then walk back in less time? Which is the right decision? If I make the wrong one, what will my daughter think of me after such a debacle of an effort?

Obviously, it is easy for someone with a rational mind to see that episode and roll their eyes and just say, “Seriously? That’s just life. Stuff happens. It wasn’t a fail. It was errand.” Rationality seems to mysteriously evaporate when I’m “in charge” of things. Suddenly, the world is looking at me, and I need to illustrate my competence in all areas. I need…yes, something in me needs to be seen as the person who can take care of you. When things don’t play out (and hey, that is simply part of life), I am emotionally transported back to my childhood when I felt small and insignificant. My trip through this neurotic wormhole strips me of my ability to simply be calm and assured about how I exist in the world. I suddenly feel like the world is seeing me as little more than a warning for others – “See kids, this is how not to approach life.”

Clearly, last night and this morning I have been juggling multiple issues that extend well beyond simply being in a hurry. It seems that being in a hurry is my defense mechanism. If I hurry, people do not have to suffer through any possible problems I might create. I start to internally apologize for taking up space. Of course, I don’t voice that sad idea. I just illustrate it through my actions.

Lord, when I am in a position of managing things, please fill me with your assurances of how “fearfully and wonderfully made” I am. Fill me with the spirit of calm and patience. Help me show others that my life is in your hands, and no matter how things work out, my presence in the world is beautiful. Nothing you made can be anything else.

Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced His perfect love. (1 John 4:18)

How do I “become” more spiritual?

This morning’s devotional from Dietrich Bonhoeffer was the following:

“This order and discipline must be sought and found in the morning prayer. It will stand the test at work. Prayer offered in early morning is decisive for the day. The wasted time we are ashamed of, the temptations we succumb to, the weakness and discouragement in our work, the disorder and lack of discipline in our thinking and in our dealings with other people․ All these very frequently have their cause in our neglect of morning prayer. The ordering and scheduling of our time will become more secure when it comes from prayer.”

After reading this, I thought about a meeting I have this Friday with someone who is training to help me with “Spiritual Direction.” In brief, this person is like a counselor (but not really one) who uses a Socratic-type method to help me identify ways in which I can build up my spirituality. This is a tough nut for me to crack. I have never found it easy to deal in the nontangible. Whether I think of it as psychological, incorporeal, metaphysical, … , spiritual, I find it hard to let go and allow my mind to wander into a meditative state of connecting with God.

Some are able to focus their inner energy toward God by walking around in a natural environment. Others, may find a moving experience by riding their horse (or motorcycle!). I have heard a broad array of methods people use to feel God’s presence. Personally, I have never identified some medium through which my brain is able to relax and consistently maintain a focus on my creator. I can do it for 30 seconds or so; 60, if I’m in a particularly less stressful state. Without much delay, my mind moves back to whatever was consuming it in the moment before I started. My attempts become something disquieting, the very opposite of what I was seeking.

Mr. Bonhoeffer suggests that if I could channel my energy into a daily morning worship, my days would go much more smoothly. I have frequently heard this theory. In fact, I believe it to be true. My problem is not in believing its effectiveness. My problem is in execution. We read in the Bible that Jesus would frequently leave to go pray for long periods of time. Certainly, he understood the idea of stress! How was he able to calm his soul long enough to have a true spiritual connection with his father? I suppose being one of the Holy Trinity doesn’t hurt. Regardless, if I see sanctification as a process of trying to emulate Jesus, dedicated moments of one-on-one prayer must be a foundational part of my efforts. The fact that he was also fully human means I should be able to train my brain to stay focused on him for longer than a commercial break.

Lord, I lay down at your feet my struggles with offering up meaningful prayer that comes from a deep connection with the Holy Spirit that lives inside me. Help me calm my soul long enough to worship you. Help me quiet the noisy detritus bouncing around in my brain long enough to hear you. My days can be filled with more peace and spiritual wholeness if I can start them with you.

Can a “strong” Christian still be lonely?

I read a recent article in the New York Times about just one of the myriad challenges our society faces – loneliness. Clearly, there is data to support the idea that many around the world are waking up to the fact that simply identifying scores of “friends” on an iPhone does not even approach a reality of being truly connected. If anything, scrolling through the veritable personal advertisements of others’ lives (that usually revolve around real, “human” interactions) can massively contribute to the feeling of loneliness. It’s the feeling of loneliness that matters, not whether or not one is surrounded by friends (physically or digitally). Many often find themselves wrestling with the pain of feeling isolated, different, left-out, uncared-for. The pain is very real. It is not imaginary, or just something “in our heads.” It can make some feel like just making it through the next few hours is something akin to torture. It’s not hard to understand why rates of suicide are so commonly discussed in news articles.

As I have been learning how to turn my life toward God, I have come to believe that to be a Christian means to believe that the Bible is effectively the “instruction manual” for life. The solution to whatever challenges we face can be found through a deeper understanding of scripture. Truthfully, I’m not educated enough in the Bible to claim that I can say I understand how this point is true. I’m at a stage in my walk where I “choose to believe” that this is true. Feeling its veracity is something toward which I am still working. To that end, I Googled “What does the Bible say about loneliness?” As is typical with any internet search, there were far more results than I could even begin to read. Of the ones that I did read, the response was usually wrapped up within the concept of, essentially, remembering that God is always with us and will never forsake us. There are numerous scriptures that one could list supporting this truism. But my challenge is that leaning on my intellectual, or even emotional, understanding that God loves me does not fully address my actual loneliness. It may get me through a tough night of attempted sleep, but when I rise to the new day, I will still feel a nagging sense of, “Ok, now what?”

The scripture that seemed more tangible, or action-oriented, was John 15 : 13 – “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” One could interpret this verse in a more dramatic sense. If I literally “lay down” my life (as in die) for a person who I call a “friend,” I will have offered up some fairly convincing evidence of my love for that person. Of course, my challenges with loneliness will have been solved, but I will have also ushered in some other rather consequential hurdles for myself and others. I believe another reasonable interpretation is that God is explaining that being a friend means offering my life; allowing others to step closer and know more about me. Offering my life to my brothers and sisters means squashing the lies floating around my brain that claim that reaching out to others is more of an annoyance to them than it is an act of love.

I am fighting almost five decades of mental wiring around my worthiness to interact with others in a meaningful way. I remember, at around 10 years old, listening to my mother and step-father as they attempted to counsel me around how to make friends. Reaching out to others has always been anathema to me. The enemy’s lies have been pervasive within my brain for as long as I can remember. If I speak up, I might say something embarrassing or stupid. People don’t want to hear from me. I don’t have anything interesting to add. I need to just stay quiet and sit in the corner while the principals of the party are speaking. Being a lie does not make it less painful.

The community of Christians is a fundamental tool for breaking out of my mental bondage of loneliness. We gather in person. We talk (in person) about ways we can pray for one another. We sing together (in person). We eat together (in person). Our phones are in our pockets. The digital likenesses of friends can wait for a couple of hours to receive my next “like”. More time among those who want to gather through Christ will lead to more connections in life. The door I stand behind is locked from my side, and I am holding onto the key. Christ is knocking. Choosing to open the door will lead to as many human friends as I can handle. I must learn to brush away the web of lies that blocks my way.

Lord, work within me to feed my energy for reaching out to others and believing that they want my friendship. Help me learn that offering my life to others is exactly what you desire; not just because it helps them, but also because it will fill me with a peaceful sense of connection and meaning.

What is clear?

I read Romans 14 this morning. There were several aspects of this chapter that nudged me to pause and think deeper. One section, in particular, left me with a feeling of uncertainty as a Christian living in the 21st century. I felt a bit like some of the bakers working during the technical challenge of that Netflix show, “The Great British Bakeoff.” It’s a fairly common tactic of the producers to give very cryptic directions during the phase of the competition. One line of the directions may simply read, “Bake”. No time, no heat setting. I’m sure it is meant to extract a quick chuckle from the audience, if not the bakers. However, in today’s Christian environment, I feel a bit like how I imagine those bakers may feel. “Ok, but what about…?”

In chapter 14, Paul is admonishing us to refrain from allowing legalism to cause fellow Christians to “stumble.” The context at the time surrounded followers who were either “strong” or “weak” in their faith. Did they have sufficient faith in Christ’s message to understand that the type of food they ingested had no bearing on their salvation? Those who were “strong” knew that it was their faith in Jesus that saved them, not their adherence to the Mosaic laws around kosher foods. The two issues are unrelated. But the point Paul was making was that debating this difference and causing a brother to stray from his or her belief in Christ’s message was in itself sinful. We are called to refrain from any judgment of our brothers and sisters in how they practice their faith. As long as they are, in their hearts, offering their actions with thanksgiving for Christ’s sacrifice, another person’s salvation is at most unknowable to us. We will all be forced to stand before God and deal with our own actions. As one commentator wrote, “Stop worrying about your brother. You have enough to answer for before Jesus.” However, another concept that is woven throughout the comments is that this direction relates to issues that are in “gray areas.” In other words, there are concepts that clearly go against scripture and are, prima facie, sinful. Other areas are not so clear. What is “clear” in today’s world?

I believe that there are many topics with which we grapple today that some Christians believe are completely clear, while others see them as gray. So how do we deal with situations where the followers themselves don’t agree on what is not up for debate? For example, I am by nature and inclination what one may label as “Pro Life”…but only up to a point. What I mean by that is that I believe that women should have the ultimate and final say over how they handle issues in their own bodies. My prayer is that they would almost always choose to give birth and only refrain from doing so if their own life is at risk or God has effectively already taken the child by allowing a disease or chromosomal deformity to settle inside that would mean the child cannot survive outside the womb.

Of course, even within my own definition, there are many qualifications that could change my opinion. For example, what if the child would be fine, but the mother just changes her mind…in the 32nd week? Well, in that case I would suggest that this should not be allowed to move forward. What about rape or incest? I struggle with that one so much, I’m not even clear on my own opinion. Even within my own mind, there are many gradations and exceptions. But the point in this exposition is not to debate the myriad alternative cases. The point is that I believe that I am a true follower of Christ, but I can see how something that seems “black and white” in the Bible could be seen by other Christians as more of a gray issue. So, what do we do? There are a mountain of other issues in today’s world. From homosexuality to caring for our environment, some Christians believe that the Bible is abundantly clear, while others are less convinced. Well…who is right? If we are not in agreement in regards to what is clear or not, how do we know if we are “judging” others in conflict with Paul’s teachings or we are assuming our responsibility to “admonish” those who are clearly contradicting the Bible?

I’m not sure how to square this circle. I suppose for now I will lean on the teachings to love our neighbors as ourselves. Love has to be the cornerstone of our walk – love for Jesus and love for our brothers and sisters. Lord, give me the wisdom to know how to love you and your children in the way that would be pleasing to you. Teach me what it means to be a true disciple and walk in the way that leads to life. If I am ever tempted to speak in a way that contradicts that way, please save me from myself. Please speak to me in that moment and direct me back toward the light.

“He must become greater; I must become less.”

The title is the verse from John 3:30. I read it this morning while reading a devotional from C.S. Lewis. It made me think of something that happened to Kaitlyn, my daughter, yesterday. Frankly, I’m not totally clear on what exactly happened. Kaitlyn suspects that I might be over-reacting. She may be right. I recognize that I am woefully guilty all too often when something happens to my daughters. If someone wrongs them in some way, I feel this intense desire to “run to the rescue”. I know that it almost never helps anyone. The slights are generally just that – a slight. They are not threatened or persecuted. They don’t need a champion to ride in on a white horse to slay the dragon. Recognizing this character trait (flaw?) in me, I was still at least interested in how things were perceived (whether by me or my daughter). So, what happened?

She met a guy over coffee. That’s it. Nothing big. Just a simple ‘meet and greet’ that young people do to see if there’s “anything there”. Friends had suggested that they should meet as their friends thought they might be a good match. Kaitlyn liked him. He seemed like a strong Christian. In fact, that is how the friend group recognizes him. He’s obviously active in his faith. This appealed to Kaitlyn, as she is very interested in intensifying her own path toward sanctification. Among other things, they discussed their interests and thoughts around following Jesus’s message. She opened up to him and talked frankly about how her journey along the path is fairly new.

The conversation seemed to flow well, and Kaitlyn had a nice time. But that was it. Nothing else happened. So, it was very confusing as the days and weeks moved along to understand that he was ghosting her. Somehow, one of the increasingly common results of our digital world is the phenomenon of ghosting people. I don’t understand why, but this seems to be, for many, a preferred method for handling awkward interpersonal communications. This is where my facility with the facts may become a bit challenged. Specifically, why did he ghost her? She thought it was odd, particularly given his profession of faith. Plus, she was disappointed because she was interested in him. However, she was not invested in him. She quickly moved on with life without much further thought (“things that make you go hmmm”).

It was not the ghosting that riled me. He just doesn’t get the blessing that is being close to Kaitlyn. Ok, yeah, he’s rude, but as I noted, a lot of people are turning away from empathy when handling tough conversations. Maybe he just wasn’t interested but didn’t have the maturity to just say that. Maybe he just didn’t understand that Kaitlyn is stronger than someone who believes that a single human male is going to undermine her joy. She has learned that life is so much fuller and richer than can be captured in humans, particularly any single human. We all fall short. Placing the our happiness and contentment inside a human relationship is a recipe for despair. Kaitlyn has learned that there is no way to understand the foibles of young people, particularly young men. That’s why she’s learning to turn her heart and mind to the only thing that is certain – God. She knows peace is attainable. He is real, and he is calling her. She is hearing his voice and taking steps. Of course, this guy doesn’t necessarily know that she has this inner strength. He was scared. So he handled it they way a lot of scared people handle life. He tried to hide, ignoring the fact that she’s a human with feelings. Out of sight, out of mind.

What got under my skin was what happened next. He showed up again. He didn’t just stick to his feeble plan. He sent a voice note to, ostensibly, apologize for ghosting her. “So, what’s the problem?” you may ask. “Isn’t that the right thing to do?”. Yes. If he had just called to apologize, I would have said, “Good for him. He did the right thing, and now they can perhaps be friends.” Instead, he called to say, “I’m sorry for ghosting you, but….” There was an explanation coming. I guess I can understand offering up an explanation, but there is a way to explain that illustrates contrition without fear of leading her on. He chose not to do that. Instead, he chose to explain that he was just feeling like he was not in a place to “disciple to” her. Right or wrong, the feeling Kaitlyn had after listening to this message was that he was effectively telling her that he was interested in finding someone who was further along in their faith. Implicitly, whether he understands it or not, he’s saying he wants someone who has obviously been following God for a long time; someone like himself. So, he is more advanced in his connection with God. The fact that Kaitlyn has given her life to Jesus and is actively pursuing that now is of little consequence. She just hasn’t done enough. The very thing we are taught as a cornerstone to Christianity is that we cannot do enough. All we have to do is profess our faith and turn our lives toward Christ. Then we start travelling the road to sanctification. It’s a life-long pursuit. No Christian is any “further” than any other. To believe otherwise suggests a belief in justification through “works.”

Regardless, all he had to do to, in my opinion, ask for forgiveness in a way that is consistent with the Christian faith is to ask for forgiveness. Full stop. He could have said, “Hey, I’m feeling terrible about how I handled this, and I want to ask your forgiveness. I guess I just don’t feel like this will be a relationship that I want to pursue as anything more than a friend.” It would have stung. But, she would have respected that approach. Instead, he called to say that she’s just not a strong enough Christian yet. Ouch. Did he really need to attack the quality of her connection with God. Obviously, he could not possibly know what is in Kaitlyn’s heart. I believe he was lifting himself up to not only dampen Kaitlyn’s possible angry response but also to hopefully ensure that she still respects him as a great Christian. “Wow, you really are a man after God’s heart. I hope I can be that strong one day.”

Yes, I’m making up some of this. But the evidence is that he used her new Christian status as a reason to not date her. That is lifting himself relative to his Christian sister. We are told fairly clearly, that this is not consistent with Christ’s message. My prayer is that Kaitlyn understands that she is perfect exactly where she is. She doesn’t have to prove anything to anybody. I’m so happy that she is on her journey. Someone claiming she is just not far enough for…something…is nothing less than a lie. God loves her exactly the same amount as He loves this young man.