Christmas Perspective: Tale of a Furry Green Cynic

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Tale of a Furry Green Cynic

The light shines in the darkness,

and the darkness doesn't extinguish the light.

John 1:5 (CEB)

There's something about Christmas time

Something about Christmas time

That makes you wish it was Christmas everyday

To see the joy in the children's eyes

The way that the old folks smile

Says that Christmas will never go away

From "Christmas Time" by Bryan Adams

Every year, during the last school assembly before Christmas break, the faculty at my school performed a dramatic reading of How the Grinch Stole Christmas,¹ a story written in 1957 by Theodor Geisel, better known to the world as Dr. Seuss.  This beloved story tells of an embittered furry green hermit known as the Grinch, who lived north of Whoville with his dog Max.  The Grinch utterly hated the Whos who lived in Whoville, and he hated the noise they made while they were celebrating their favorite holiday, Christmas.  He especially hated that, at the end of the day, after opening presents and feasting, the Whos would gather together, join hands, and sing Christmas songs.

One year, on Christmas Eve, the Grinch decided that he'd had enough of the Whos' noise, so he hatched a plan to put an end to the Whos' Christmas celebration.  He fashioned a Santa costume for himself, disguised his dog as a reindeer, and, in the middle of the night, rode into Whoville to do the exact opposite of what Santa Claus does.  He went from house to house, stealing Christmas presents, decorations, and all the food for the Whos' communal Christmas feast.

Nobody really knows why the Grinch hated the Whos so much.  Some speculated that "his head wasn't screwed on just right."  Others thought that maybe "his shoes were too tight."  Ron Howard's 2000 live-action reimagining of the story² suggests that the Grinch grew up in Whoville and was mistreated by some of the Whos because he was different, though nothing like this is suggested in Dr. Seuss's original story.  The prevailing theory behind the Grinch's misanthropy (or hatred for Whomanity) was that the Grinch's heart was "two sizes too small."

Personally, I suspect that the Grinch's misanthropy stemmed from cynicism: in other words, at some point, for some reason, the Grinch lost all faith in Whomanity.  Notice that he formed his plan under the assumption that the Whos were all utterly materialistic.  He assumed that Christmas would be ruined for them if he took away all of the material trappings of the holiday: the presents, the decorations, and the feast.

The Grinch was voiced by horror icon Boris Karloff in the original 1966 cartoon short,³ and he was portrayed by funny man Jim Carrey in the live-action theatrical film.  When the faculty at my school performed a dramatic reading of the story every year, the part of the Grinch was read, most appropriately, by the school principal.  Looking back at my attitude toward Christmas during the last few years and skimming over some of my previous Christmas reflections, I'm starting to think that I've been playing the Grinch lately.

Like the Grinch, I have lost a lot of faith in humanity in the last few years, and I too have become cynical.  It's so easy to become cynical in this world.  It seems that there's so much wrong with the world, and, worse yet, it seems that there's so much wrong about even the things that ought to be right about the world.

My cynicism has even affected how I feel about the Christmas season.  I get so put out with the materialism and consumerism that has hijacked the holy day.  I hate seeing the time of year meant to celebrate the birth of the Savior of all humanity used to get people into stores to buy stuff.  Though I have no problem with Santa Claus, I don't like to see his workshop at the mall before Halloween.  I have no aversion to giving presents on Christmas, but I grow weary of racking my brain trying to figure out what to buy for people who don't really need anything.  Most of all, I'm tired of hearing about an imaginary "war on Christmas" and hearing preaching about the "reason for the season" from Christians who are no less materialistic than anyone else.

Alright, I'll stop complaining and get back to the story.

The Grinch, once he was finished with his dastardly deeds, rode to the top of Mt. Crumpit to dump everything he had stolen and to listen for the sound of weeping from the town below.  Instead, he heard a sound he didn't expect.  He looked down and saw that, even without presents, decorations, or a feast, the Whos had gathered together to sing, just as they always did on Christmas.  The Grinch saw that, despite his best efforts to ruin Christmas for the Whos, "It came without ribbons!  It came without tags!  It came without packages, boxes, or bags!"  He could take away all of the material aspects of Christmas, but he could not take away the song in the Whos' hearts.

The Grinch sat there, puzzling "till his puzzler was sore."  Finally, he realized that there was more to Christmas than he originally thought.  When he saw that celebrating Christmas meant more to the Whos than exchanging presents and stuffing themselves at dinner, he also realized that there was more to the Whos than he originally thought.  The Grinch had a complete change of heart toward the Whos.  It is said that his heart, which was previously "two sizes too small," grew three sizes.  He rode into Whoville to return everything he had stolen, and he stayed to celebrate Christmas with the Whos, even carving the roast beast at dinner.

So is there a lesson here for the cynics like myself who cannot seem to enjoy Christmas for all the noise?

In How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Dr. Seuss reminds us that Christmas is more than a materialistic frenzy.  During Christmas, we celebrate the birth of the one who is both fully God and fully human.  Jesus Christ, the "image of the invisible God,"⁴ came into the world to show us what God is really like.  As a human being, Christ also came to show us what humanity is meant to be, through His example of self-sacrificial love.

It was not until the Grinch saw the good in the Whos that his attitude toward them and toward Christmas changed.  The challenge I offer to those of us who have become cynical toward the Christmas season is to look past the crowded stores, traffic jams, and complaints about plain red cups at coffee shops, so that we allow ourselves to see the people who reflect the love of Christ and celebrate Christmas with a song in their hearts.  May we all seek ways to reflect this love to others so that everyone may see that there's more to Christmas than what meets the eye.

"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store.  Maybe Christmas... perhaps... means a little bit more."

Notes:

1. http://www.amazon.com/Grinch-Stole-Christmas-Classic-Seuss/dp/0394800796
2. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0170016/
3. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0060345/
4. Colossians 1:15

The image of the Grinch is taken from the 1966 television special Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas!

Advent Perspective: What Are You Expecting?

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What Are You Expecting?

By the tender mercy of our God,

the dawn from on high will break upon us,

to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,

to guide our feet into the way of peace.

Luke 1:78-79 (NRSV)

O come, thou Wisdom from on high

And order all things far and nigh

To us the path of knowledge show

And cause us in her ways to go

From "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel"

as translated by Henry Sloane Coffin

About six months before the birth of Jesus, a child named John was born.  The child's father Zechariah had been told by an angel that the child would grow up to carry out a special purpose.  Upon naming the child, Zechariah prophesied that something big was afoot, specifically the coming of the Messiah, the long-awaited leader who would save the Jewish people from their oppressors and usher in an age of peace.  He prophesied that his newborn son would somehow be involved with the Messiah's arrival, that he would someday be "the prophet of the Most High" who "go before the Lord to prepare His ways."  Zechariah believed that dawn would finally break upon a people who had been long trapped in darkness.¹

John grew up to become a prophet, just as his father had predicted.  He lived in the wilderness, challenging people to change their ways and baptizing people in the river as a sign of repentance and forgiveness.  To borrow a phrase from one ancient prophet, John was the prophetic voice "crying out in the wilderness, 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.'"²  John believed that Jesus, a relative of his, was the Messiah who would soon set things right in the land and that such changes would require people to change their hearts and lives.

John and those who followed him had certain expectations about the Messiah.  The Jewish people had spent years suffering under the boot of the Roman Empire, and they expected a Messiah who would defeat the Romans and restore Israel to its former glory.

When Jesus' public ministry had begun, John and his disciples began to expect that things were finally going to get better... until they didn't get any better.  As prophets are wont to do, John angered the wrong people and landed himself in prison.  Sitting in his cell, he begins to second guess himself, wondering if the one he had been supporting is actually going to do what He is supposed to do.  John calls for two of his disciples and sends them to Jesus to make an inquiry.  They asked Him, "Are You the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?"

Jesus has already done a lot of wonderful things in His ministry thus far.  He says to the messengers, "Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news brought to them."³

Notice that, when John's messengers ask Jesus whether or not He is the one they are expecting, Jesus doesn't say yes or no.  He simply tells them to report what is going on because of Him.  It is as if Jesus is saying, "That depends on whom you are expecting.  Tell John what you've seen.  I am who I am."  Even though John was the one destined to prepare the way for the Messiah, perhaps he and his followers did not fully understand who the Messiah would be or what the Messiah would do.

After the two messengers leave, Jesus says to the crowd, "I tell you, among those born of women no one is greater than John; yet the least in the Kingdom of God is greater than he."⁴  If even the person Jesus considered the greatest to walk the face of the earth didn't quite understand the Messiah or the Kingdom He came to establish, what does that say about everybody else?  What does that say about us, for that matter?  Though we might have information that Jesus' original audience didn't have at the time, are we really any more advanced in our thinking than they were?  If so, then why do we keep imposing the same kinds of expectations on God and God's Kingdom?

Like John, Jesus also rubbed certain people the wrong way.  One day, His detractors begin lobbing at Him one loaded question after another.  A religious scholar hears how well Jesus answers these questions, so he approaches Jesus with a difficult question of his own.  Unlike the others who are questioning Jesus, this scholar is sincerely searching for something.  He asks Jesus which rule in the Jewish Law is the most important.  Jesus replies, "The first is, 'Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.'  The second is this, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no other commandment greater than these."

The scholar says - and I paraphrase - "Wow!  That makes a lot of sense.  I think You're right."  Jesus then says to him, "You are not far from the Kingdom of God."  Jesus says that the scholar is "not far" from the Kingdom, meaning that, like everybody else, he wasn't quite "there" yet, but Jesus commends him for being on the right track.⁵

This is the season of Advent, a time of longing and expectation.  Though we look with hopeful expectation toward the time when the Kingdom of God is a reality on Earth as it is in Heaven, I don't think we fully know what to expect, like the people of Jesus' day.  Whatever the Kingdom of God is, it is a reality in which love is of primary importance.  It is something that will require us to reconsider our beliefs and our actions, as John called people to do.  It will even require us to rethink our expectations of God.  As Kent Dobson recently said, "To really, truly anticipate something that you don't yet know means whatever you have needs to go."⁶

God might not always meet our expectations, but God is always good.


Notes:

1. Luke 1:8-20,57-80 (NRSV)
2. Luke 3:1-17 (NRSV)
3. Luke 7:18-23 (NRSV)
4. Luke 7:24-28 (NRSV)
5. Mark 12:28-34 (NRSV)
6. Kent Dobson.  "Metamorphei: Week Ten."  Mars Hill Bible Church, 12/06/2015.

St. John the Baptist Preaching was painted by Mattia Preti in the 17th century.

Perspective: Preparing for the Everyday Apocalypse

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Preparing for the Everyday Apocalypse

But you, beloved, are not in darkness, for that day to surprise you like a thief; for you are all children of light and children of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness.  So then let us not fall asleep as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober; for those who sleep sleep at night, and those who are drunk get drunk at night.  But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation.

1 Thessalonians 5:4-8 (NRSV)

It happens in a blink, it happens in a flash

It happens in the time it took to look back

I try to hold on tight, but there's no stopping time

What is it I've done with my life?

From "Blink" by Revive

St. Paul writes in one of his letters that "the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night."¹  A film released in the 1970s, which takes its title from these very words, depicts events that many Christians believe will happen at the end of this age.  I have never seen this particular film, but, when I was a teenager, I was a fan of a certain book series that described basically the same events.  Both the film and the book series are based on a timeline that people have constructed by piecing together certain parts of the Bible, most prominently the Book of Revelation.

According to this timeline, at some indeterminate point in the perhaps not-too-distant future, all people who have accepted Jesus Christ as their Savior will be spontaneously taken to Heaven.  Everyone else will be left to face a seven-year period of hell on earth, when the whole world will come under the control of a diabolical ruler known as the Antichrist.  Everyone must either be branded with a mark of loyalty to this leader or else be put to death.  At the end of this Great Tribulation, Christ will return to defeat the Antichrist and establish His kingdom on earth.  Those who have sworn allegiance to the Antichrist will be condemned to Hell, but those who accept martyrdom or persevere to the end will be accepted into Christ's kingdom.

I used to be interested in books and films that depicted this framework of the end times, sometimes called premillennial dispensationalism, but now I wonder if the purpose of such media is primarily to scare the hell out of people so that they will become Christians.

I think it was shortly after I graduated from college when I officially left behind such theories and timelines, having learned that the bizarre imagery found at the end of the Bible is most likely representative of the conflict between the early Church and the evils of the Roman Empire.  Though I no longer believe everything I once believed about the end times, as a Christian, I still hold on to the hope that Christ will someday return to set things right in the world.  At the same time, I think it is important that we do not get so caught up in what we hope God does in the future that we fail to see the work God is doing in the world in the present day.

God is not malevolent like a thief.  Christ said, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.  I came that [you] may have life, and have it abundantly."²  Paul compares the work of God to the work of a thief because, for many people, the actions of God will come as an unwelcome surprise, like waking up to find that everything of value in one's house has been stolen.  A thief strikes when his actions are least likely to be noticed - at night, under the cover of darkness, when people are asleep.  A thief would not strike in broad daylight when his actions are likely to be noticed.

For Paul, day and night do not describe parts of a 24-hour cycle but are rather symbolic of the state of a person's mind and heart.  The day is a time of light and awareness; the night, on the other hand, is a time of darkness and obliviousness.  People with a "daytime" mindset, who seek to know God and understand God's will, will be more able to see what God is doing in the world.  People with a "nighttime" mindset, who are distracted by the temporal things of life and have anesthetized themselves to the suffering of the world, will be caught off guard by the redemptive work of God.

I do not think that God really wants to catch us off guard.  The question is whether or not we are paying attention to what God is doing.  Paul encourages us to prepare ourselves by letting faith, hope, and love be our armor.  In another letter, he writes that when all other things come to an end, these three things will remain.³

The knowledge that God is setting things right in the world should be good news for everybody; however, if we've built our lives on injustice, then it will come as a very unwelcome surprise for us.  As I've written before, I think that the best way for us to prepare for the reign of Christ on earth is to allow Christ to reign in our hearts right now.  When we pray as Jesus taught, "Thy Kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven," we are not simply expressing a hope for the future but are seeking to align ourselves with the will of God.  Though we long for a day when God sets all things right in the world, we must be attentive to the work of the Holy Spirit within us, setting things right in our hearts.


Notes:

1. 1 Thessalonians 5:2 (NRSV)
2. John 10:10 (NRSV)
3. 1 Corinthians 13:8-13

Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse was painted by Viktor Vasnetsov in 1887.

Perspective: Dead Trees and Crumbling Buildings

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Dead Trees and Crumbling Buildings

As He came out of the temple, one of His disciples said to Him, "Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!"  Then Jesus asked him, "Do you see these great buildings?  Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down."

Mark 13:1-2 (NRSV)

Love will hold us together

Make us a shelter to weather the storm

And I'll be my brother's keeper

So the whole world would know that we're not alone

From "Hold Us Together" by Matt Maher

One day, Jesus was hungry, and, spotting a fig tree, He looked for some figs to eat.  Finding none, He cursed the tree, saying, "May no one ever eat fruit from you again."¹  The next day, Jesus and His disciples passed by the same location and saw that the same tree, which had previously just started leafing, had completely withered.  The Disciples looked at the tree in astonishment.  Jesus said to them, "Have faith in God.  Truly I tell you, if you say to this mountain, 'Be taken up and thrown into the sea,' and if you do not doubt in your heart, but believe that what you say will come to pass, it will be done for you."²

So often, we read the Gospels as if they are blow-by-blow accounts of historical events.  It is important to realize that the Gospels are thoughtfully constructed stories.  In the Gospel written by St. Mark, we need to take notice of things that are mentioned twice - things like cursed fig trees.  Also worthy of notice are the events that are bookended by the things mentioned twice.³  Immediately after Jesus cursed the fig tree, He made His infamous demonstration at the Temple.  He turned tables over, drove people out of the Temple, blocked the door, and called the place a "den of robbers."⁴

When Jesus looked for figs to eat, He knew good and well that it wasn't the right time of year to find figs.  Jesus' deadly miracle was a highly symbolic act: the fig tree He cursed represented the religious institution of the day.  In the same way that Jesus went to the fig tree hungry but found nothing to eat, people went to the Temple physically and spiritually hungry but found no nourishment.  Furthermore, when Jesus spoke of throwing a mountain into the sea, was referring specifically to the mountain on which the Temple was built.⁵

Jesus had some harsh criticisms for the religious institution of His day, and I think that today's institutional church needs to take a good hard look at itself in light of these criticisms.

A lot of people think that the Christian religion is in dire straits nowadays, particularly in regions where it once had cultural dominance.  Christianity began as a movement, but over time it became an institution, as movements are wont to do.  The problem with institutions is that they often lose sight of their original purposes and begin to focus instead on their own self-promotion and self-preservation.  As a result, that which once worked for change becomes resistant and even hostile to change.

Church members are encouraged to reach out to other people and invite them to church, but, in many congregations, inviting people to church only becomes a priority when the congregation is in decline.  This makes me wonder why people are encouraged to invite others to church in the first place.  Is it so that the people they invite will experience the love and grace of God?  Or is it so that there will be enough money in the plate and enough people the pews to allow the church to go on doing what it has been doing?  In some situations, church members are actually called "giving units."  I wonder if the institutional church is in decline because for far too long it has focused on itself while leaving people physically and spiritually hungry, like the institutional religion of Jesus' day.

A local denominational leader once met with some members of a waning congregation to discuss what it would take to keep their church going.  At one point he said that it would be a shame to close a church with such a beautiful building.  When Jesus' disciples made a comment about beautiful buildings, Jesus said, "Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down."

At one point while the people of Israel were traveling through the wilderness, a number of people were killed by poisonous snakes.  Moses prayed to God on the people's behalf, and God instructed Moses to craft a bronze serpent.  Whenever someone was bitten by a snake, he or she would look at the bronze serpent and would be healed of the snake's venom.⁶  Centuries after the bronze serpent was created, King Hezekiah of Judah destroyed it because it had become an object of worship.⁷  This sacred object, through which God had once healed people, had lost its sacred purpose and was instead distracting people from God, so it needed to be destroyed.  It has been said that holy cows make great hamburgers.

If a congregation needs new members more than potential new members need it, then that congregation needs to either rethink its purpose or go ahead and call it a day.  We need not fear the end of sacred things that cease to serve their sacred purposes, be they sacred buildings or sacred institutions.

Perhaps the institutional church needs to focus more on loving people and focus less on making itself grow.  According to theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer,
Those who love their dream of a Christian community more than they love the Christian community itself become destroyers of that Christian community even though their personal intentions may be ever so honest, earnest and sacrificial...  Whoever is mindful to build the church is surely well on the way to destroying it, for he will build a temple to idols without wishing or knowing it.⁸

What often passes for evangelism is marketing at best and manipulation at worst.  When I ponder what evangelism ought to be, I think about a story of four people who have a friend who is paralyzed.  They hear that a traveling teacher and healer named Jesus is in town, so they make up their minds to do whatever it takes to get their friend to this mysterious person.  They find a stretcher and carry their friend to the house where Jesus is staying.  When they see the massive crowd of people surrounding the house, one of the friends says, "Look at that all those people!  We'll never get in there."  Another looks at the roof and says, "I have an idea."  The four climb to the roof with their friend, tear a hole in the roof, and lower their friend through the ceiling right in front of Jesus.

Jesus is clearly impressed with the four friends.  He turns to the man on the stretcher and tells him that his sins are forgiven.  When someone objects to Jesus' claim to forgive sins, he tells the paralyzed man to get up and walk.  Suddenly, no longer paralyzed, the man does exactly what Jesus has told him to do, to the amazement of the people there.⁹

St. Paul reminds us that whatever we do, if it is not done out of love, it is all for naught.¹⁰  We do not get to know people so that we can invite them to church and convert them to our religion.  We get to know people so that we can simply love them.  When we open our hearts to others and see the pain and brokenness in their lives, we can show them the love and grace of Christ - not to keep a religious establishment going but rather to be a source of light to people we love.  The four friends weren't trying to make a believer out of their friend, nor were they trying to get him to join a growing religious movement.  They had no agenda for him at all: they simply loved him and wanted him to experience healing.  Because of their efforts, the man did experience healing, both physically and spiritually.

Jesus instructed His disciples, "Proclaim the good news, 'The kingdom of heaven has come near.'  Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons."¹¹  Basically, He sent them into the world to be agents of hope and healing.  If a local church building, regardless of how beautiful it is, is not a place where people find hope and healing, then does it really matter if it ends up getting torn down?  For that matter, if the institutional church is no longer a source of hope and healing in the world, then does it really matter if it comes to an end?

I do not think that the Church is irrelevant, but I wonder if the Church is really offering people what they need.  Some people believe that the institutional church may be nearing its end, and I wonder if maybe they have a point.  Though the church as an institution may be coming to an end, I do not fear for the future of the Church as the Body of Christ.  I am confident that, as long as there is a Christ, there will be a Body to carry on the work of Christ, even if it someday looks a lot different than it does at the present moment.


Notes:

1. Mark 11:12-14 (NRSV)
2. Mark 11:20-23 (NRSV)
3. Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan.  The Last Week: What the Gospels Really Teach About Jesus's Final Days in Jerusalem.  2006, HarperOne.  pp.32-33
4. Mark 11:15-19
5. Borg and Crossan, p.56
6. Numbers 21:4-9
7. 2 Kings 18:1-4
8. The complete quote can be found here.
9. Based on Mark 2:1-11
10. 1 Corinthians 13:1-3
11. Matthew 10:7-8 (NRSV)

The photograph of the dead tree was taken by R Neil Marshman and is used under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.  The photographer is in no way affiliated with this blog.

Introspection: Metamorphosis

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Metamorphosis

Lessons from Butterflies

Now all of us, with our faces unveiled, reflect the glory of the Lord as if we are mirrors; and so we are being transformed, metamorphosed, into His same image from one radiance of glory to another, just as the Spirit of the Lord accomplishes it.

2 Corinthians 3:18 (The Voice)

Sheltered in this cocoon

I will break the skin

I'm not afraid

I will be a butterfly

From "Emotional Cocoon" by Tearwave

Butterflies are of symbolic importance in numerous cultures.  To the ancient Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, and Japanese, the butterfly was a symbol of the human soul.  In Japan, a large swarm of butterflies was once thought to be a sign that something bad was about to happen.¹  At some point centuries ago, the butterfly became symbolic of the Resurrection of Christ, for it was believed that butterflies were spontaneously borne from dead caterpillars.  As scientists became more and more interested in the study of insects, it was discovered that what was once thought to be the corpse of a caterpillar is actually the site where an amazing process of life occurs.²

Lately I've found myself somewhat fascinated with butterflies, specifically the process by which a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly.  I think my fascination stems from the fact that I am haunted by the painful feeling that I am not at all what I was meant to be, that I am nowhere close to living up to my potential.  I often feel as if I am merely crawling through life when everything in me dreams of flying.  Sometimes I feel that I am a prisoner within myself, trapped inside my own fear, shame, guilt, and insecurity.  Needless to say, the idea that a creeping creature barely distinguishable from a worm could transform into a beautiful flying creature is appealing to me.

St. Paul, in one of his letters, writes that, in the Spirit of God, we find freedom.  Through the work of the Holy Spirit, we, like caterpillars becoming butterflies, are being transformed "from one degree of glory [or beauty] to another," thereby becoming more and more like Christ,³ the One in whom we see what it means to be fully human.  The Greek word Paul uses to describe this process is metamorphoō,⁴ from which we get the word metamorphosis, which we commonly associate with butterflies and other creatures that change in form.  I am beginning to think that the process of personal transformation, like the process by which a caterpillar becomes a butterfly, is not simple or clean.

A caterpillar sheds its skin multiple times as it grows, but, when it sheds its skin for the final time, it is covered by a hard shell called a chrysalis.⁵  It is within this shell that the very much alive creature goes through its radical change in form.  This metamorphosis is not simply a matter of a caterpillar's snapping wings onto itself, as a child might snap hands and feet onto a Mr. Potato Head toy.  What happens in a chrysalis is actually a rather gruesome process.  A significant portion of the poor caterpillar's body is broken down - liquefied - to serve as the raw material to develop new body parts like wings.⁶

Maybe the gruesome ordeals we endure in our lives are one means by which we are transformed spiritually.  Perhaps the difficult experiences that make us feel that we are coming apart at the seems, though not necessarily caused by God, are things God uses to help us to become the people were created to be.  David A. Seamands writes,
God's recycling grace takes our infirmities, our damaged emotions, and the garbage of our lives and turns them from curses that cripple into means of growth and instruments to be used in His service.⁷
Perhaps the experiences that seemingly break us down are the things God uses to put us back together again - wiser, stronger, bolder, and kinder than we were before.

I think that one reason I've been feeling "stuck" lately is the fact that I have become pain avoidant.  In the past few years, I've found myself running from things that would potentially cause me to feel ashamed, insecure, inadequate, vulnerable, awkward, or out-of-place.  As a result I've ended up quitting a lot of things, including dancing and bowling.⁸  Looking back, I don't think my avoiding anything potentially painful, difficult, or unpleasant has done me any good.  In fact, I've discovered that running away from pain is essentially the same as running away from life.

Once a caterpillar has been broken down and put back together as a butterfly, it secretes an enzyme to soften its chrysalis, and it begins its struggle to break free from its shell.  The butterfly uses tiny claws on its wings to cut its way out.  Once free, it sits on the remains of its chrysalis while its wings unfurl and harden.⁹  Once the wings are developed, the process of metamorphosis is complete, and the adult butterfly sets out in search of a mate.

There is a story in which someone was watching a butterfly struggling to break free from its chrysalis.  He began to feel sorry for the poor creature, and, out of a misguided sense of compassion, he decided to help it out by cutting it free from its prison.  Unfortunately, when the butterfly was cut free, it had not yet built up the strength it needed to fly.¹⁰  I am not sure how much of this fable is based in reality, but lesson it conveys is clear: our struggles make us strong.  St. James writes that our struggles produce endurance and that endurance produces maturity and wholeness.¹¹

If I want freedom from the things that imprison me - fear, insecurity, shame - I cannot run away from them, for I would merely be a prisoner in hiding.  Instead, I have to face these things directly and fight for my freedom.  My friend Erica recently helped me to realize that if we got everything we wanted in life easily, we would not appreciate it as much as we would if we had to struggle for it.

In the seventeenth century, a Dutch etymologist named Jan Swammerdam dissected a caterpillar that would have soon entered its pupal stage, and he described what he found as "a butterfly enclosed and hidden in a caterpillar, and perfectly contained within its skin."  In other words, beneath the caterpillar's skin, he discovered the beginnings of the wings and legs that would be developed in the chrysalis.  The process of transformation had already begun even before the caterpillar entered into its chrysalis.¹²

In the same way that caterpillars are born to become butterflies, we were born to become more than we currently are.  The term for the final developmental stage of a butterfly is imago, a Latin word meaning "image."¹³  In the Church, we say that human beings are created in the Imago Dei, the Image of God.¹⁴  For reasons we still don't fully understand, human beings don't typically seem to look very godly, but the Holy Spirit works within us to restore the divine image in which we have been created, transforming us from one degree of glory to the next.

In Christ, we are like caterpillars transforming into butterflies.  The process of metamorphosis by which a caterpillar becomes a butterfly is arduous and gruesome, but the results are undeniably beautiful.  Likewise, the process of personal transformation is not simple, quick, or clean, but the potential for transformation is already within us.  We were made for more.  To those of us who dream of flying but feel as though we are crawling, may God grant the strength, courage, and endurance to break through all obstacles so that we may become all we were meant to be.


Notes:

1. Wikipedia: Butterfly, section: In culture
2. Ted Olsen.  "Are Butterflies a New Creation After All?"  The Behemoth, 02/19/2015.
3. 2 Corinthians 3:17-18 (NRSV)
4. https://www.blueletterbible.org/lang/lexicon/lexicon.cfm?Strongs=G3339&t=RSV
5. Wikipedia: Pupa, section: Chrysalis
6. Wikipedia: Butterfly, section: Pupa
7. David A. Seamands.  Healing for Damaged Emotions.  1981, David C. Cook.  p. 131
8. In the last couple of months, I have started bowling again, but, after some frustratingly bad games, I'm thinking about quitting again.
9. Wikipedia: Pupa, section: Chrysalis
10. One telling of this story can be found here.
11. James 1:2-4
12. Olsen
13. Wiktionary: Imago
14. Genesis 1:26-27

The photograph of the butterfly was taken by PJC&Co and is used under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.  The photograph of the chrysalis was taken by Viren Vaz and is used under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 Generic license.  Neither photographer is in any way affiliated with this blog.

Perspective: What Do You Want?

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

What Do You Want?

Since, then, we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession.  For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin.  Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Hebrews 4:14-16 (NRSV)

He made the lame walk and the dumb talk

And He opened blinded eyes to see

That the sun rises on His time

Yet He knows our deepest desperate need

From "What Life Would Be Like" by Big Daddy Weave

Scattered throughout the Gospels, there are a number of stories in which Jesus miraculously gives sight to the blind.  In one such story, Jesus and His disciples are heading from Jericho to Jerusalem with a large crowd following them.  Suddenly, two blind men sitting at the side of the road begin calling out to Jesus, shouting, "Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!"  The people in the crowd try to silence them, but they start shouting even more loudly.  Jesus stops and asks the men what they want, and they reply that they want to be able to see.  Moved with compassion, Jesus touches their eyes, and their sight is restored.¹

There are a number of lessons we can glean from this seemingly simple story of healing.


Pray louder.

First, this story tells us that, when the blind men hear that Jesus is coming, they start shouting out to Him.  When the crowd tries to get them to shut up, they start shouting even louder.  I think that these blind men can teach us something about prayer.  When the voices of resistance in our lives tell us to shut up and accept our fate, we need to start praying to God all the more loudly.  Whether such voices come from other people or from our own inner dialogue, we need to drown them out with prayer.

Humans are ridiculously fickle creatures who are easily swayed.  In a very similar story, a blind man cries out to Jesus for help, and, once again, the crowd tells him to be quiet.  When Jesus turns His attention to him and invites him to come forward, the crowd changes its tune and tells him to take heart.²  It was such a crowd that would soon welcome Jesus with shouts of "Hosanna!" and then condemn Him just a few days later with shouts of "Crucify Him!"  Don't put too much stock in voices of resistance, whether they come from others or from within, because the voices are unreliable.  Instead, put your faith in the God who loves you.


God cares about what you want.

Second, the story tells us that, when Jesus hears the cries of the blind men, He stops and asks them, "What do you want Me to do for you?"  Jesus' action shows us that God actually cares about what we want.  St. Paul writes, "Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God."³  We are invited to lift up to God any desire in our hearts.

Though I say that God cares about what we want, please note that I am not claiming that God always gives us what we want.  God is the giver of every good and perfect gift,⁴ but sometimes the things we want for ourselves - or think we want for ourselves - aren't very good for us.  Still, there are times when we pray for something good but don't receive it, and we don't really understand why.  I suspect that most people who pray have experienced what they believe to be an answer to prayer yet also feel that some of their prayers have gone unanswered.

God cares about everything in our hearts, so it matters to God that we want what we want.  Whether or not God actually chooses to give us what we want, we are invited the throne of God where we will find grace and mercy.


God is compassionate.

Third, the story tells us that, when the blind men tell Jesus that they want to see, Jesus has compassion on them.  The word compassion literally means "to suffer together with" someone.⁵  To say that Jesus had compassion on the blind men is to say that Jesus entered into their suffering.  Perhaps Jesus remembered what a blessing the sense of sight truly is and was saddened that they didn't enjoy this blessing.  Perhaps it was a particularly beautiful sunny day, and it pained Jesus to know that they couldn't fully appreciate it.  Suffering with the two blind men moved Jesus to action.

God hasn't given us an explanation for suffering; instead, God entered into human suffering with us.  Jesus Christ is God in the flesh, and, in Jesus, the compassion of God is put on display for humanity.  One early Christian theologian compares Jesus to a heavenly high priest who intercedes on behalf of us, fully able to empathize with us.  To borrow a phrase from one ancient prophet, Jesus was "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief,"⁶ and we see this truth most vividly when Jesus hangs on a cross and cries out in agony.  Christ knows what it means to suffer, and He knows what it means to overcome suffering.


Whatever desires are in our hearts, we are invited to offer them up to God.  We do not have a God who turns a deaf ear to our cries, or a God who is ambivalent to our wants and needs, or a God who is unable to empathize with us.  Our God is loving, compassionate, and abundantly gracious.  May we approach God boldly, that we may experience God's love and grace.


Notes:

1. Matthew 20:29-34 (NRSV)
2. Mark 10:46-52
3. Philippians 4:6 (NRSV)
4. James 1:17
5. Wiktionary: Compassion
6. Isaiah 53:3 (KJV)

Christ Healing the Blind Man was painted by Eustache Le Sueur in the 1600s.

Perspective: Followers of a Servant

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

Followers of a Servant

For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.

Mark 10:45 (NRSV)

What if there's a bigger picture?

What if I'm missing out?

What if there's a greater purpose

I could be living right now

Outside my own little world?

From "My Own Little World" by Matthew West

One day, some people brought a blind man to Jesus, begging Him to restore the man's sight.  Jesus anointed the man's eyes with His saliva, placed His hands on the man, and then asked him if he could see anything.  The man replied, "I can see people, but they look like trees, walking."  Basically, he was able to see again, but he was still extremely nearsighted.  Jesus placed His hands on the man a second time, and then the man was able to see clearly.¹

Assuming that Jesus is indeed the Son of an all-powerful God, does it seem strange to you that He would have trouble restoring the man's sight?

Sometime after that, when Jesus and the Disciples were traveling together, the Disciples got into an argument about which one of them was the greatest.  When Jesus confronted them and asked them why they were arguing, they weren't very eager to tell Him.  He then said to them, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all."²

Later on, two of the Disciples asked Jesus for the privilege to sit at His right- and left-hand sides after He is inaugurated as King.  The Disciples believed that Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah who would restore Israel to its former glory and usher in an age of peace, and these two wanted positions of power and honor when that time finally came.  Understandably, the other Disciples were angry with them for their attempted power grab.  Apparently Jesus' previous lesson about greatness had not yet sunk in for any of them.³

Jesus told the Disciples that they should not aspire to be like the rulers of this world who constantly exalt themselves over their subjects.  Again, He says to them, "Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all."  He then tells them that He, the Son of God, did not come to be served but rather to be a servant and to give His life for the sake of others.⁴

Perhaps Jesus' apparent difficulty in getting the blind man to see clearly is actually symbolic of His difficulty in getting the Disciples to clearly see important truths about the Kingdom of God.⁵  In the same way that Jesus had to place His hands on the blind man more than once before he could see clearly, Jesus had to tell the Disciples more than once about the nature of true greatness.  We've all heard Jesus' strange sayings about the Kingdom of God - that "the first shall be last" and that to be great is to be a servant - but I suspect that, like the Disciples, most of us don't really take it to heart.  We smile and nod when we hear such things, but I doubt that most of us really believe that true greatness is servanthood.

Jesus put this principle on display most vividly on the evening when He shared His last meal with the Disciples before He was arrested by the religious leaders.  During supper, Jesus surprised the Disciples when He stood up, took off His coat, tied a towel around His waist, poured some water into a bowl, knelt down, and washed their feet.  When He finished washing their feet, He reminded them that disciples are not greater than the one they follow.  In other words, if He wasn't too good to serve people in such a way, then neither were they.⁶

Later that night, Jesus said, "Whoever has seen Me has seen the Father."⁷  So often Christians talk about Jesus as if He was merely playing the part of a servant to be an example to us, and they speak as if God is actually greatest narcissist in the cosmos.  What if Jesus was not pretending when He knelt down to wash His disciples feet?  What if that really is what God is like?  At the end of the book Uprising, Erwin McManus writes,
The way of God is the path of servanthood.  This is not a test to see if we deserve better.  It is God offering us the best of Himself and the best of life.  God calls us to the servant way because God is a servant.  Sounds like heresy doesn't it, to call God a servant?  It seems demeaning to call the Creator of the universe something so common and so low.⁸

Have you ever done a good deed for another person, only to feel as if you were the one blessed by the experience?  It didn't quite seem fair, did it?  After all, you did what you did so that the other person would be blessed.  It seems unfair because we are so used to living in a world structured as a zero-sum game.  In order for some to win, others must lose: the equation must always be balanced.  You went out of your way for someone, intentionally making yourself the loser so that the other person would be the winner, yet your plan backfired because you ended up winning.

Believe it or not, if you have ever been in such a situation, you have actually experienced life in the Kingdom of God.  The Kingdom of God is not structured as the world is now: it is an altogether different kind of game.  It is totally unbalanced, for there are no losers but only winners.

It is difficult to see the greatness of being a servant when we are stuck in a zero-sum, "either-us-or-them" mindset.  If we want to follow Jesus in the path of servanthood, then we must change the way we understand reality.  McManus writes,
Is it possible that the reason the servant will have the primary place, that the least will share in God's greatness, is that here is where God has been all along?  If we push ourselves to the top, we are pushing ourselves away from the presence of God.  When we move ourselves to the place of servanthood, we join God in His eternal purpose.  When we serve others, we look strangely like God.⁹

Many Christians, like the Jewish people in Jesus' day, understand themselves to be chosen by God, but so often we forget that to be chosen by God is to be chosen for a purpose and not for privilege.  The two Disciples who jockeyed for positions of leadership in Jesus' kingdom didn't realize that it takes a servant to be a true leader, for leadership is in itself a form of service.  A leader is not merely someone who gets to call the shots: a leader bears a great responsibility for the well-being of the people she leads.

If we claim to be disciples of Jesus Christ, we must open our eyes to the fact that we are called to serve, for we are followers of a servant.  We must not be blind to the ways of the Kingdom of God and stuck in old ways of thinking.  We are gifted so that we may give, and we are blessed so that we may be a blessing.


Notes:

1. Mark 8:22-26 (NRSV)
2. Mark 9:33-35 (NRSV)
3. Mark 10:35-41
4. Mark 10:42-45 (NRSV)
5. J.R. Daniel Kirk and E. Scott Jones.  "Mind = Blown."  Homebrewed Christianity's LectioCast, 10/19/2015.
6. John 13:1-17
7. John 14:9 (NRSV)
8. Erwin Raphael McManus.  Uprising: A Revolution of the Soul.  2003, Thomas Nelson Publishers.  pp. 250-1
9. Uprising, p. 251

Christ Washing the Feet of the Apostles was painted by Meister des Hausbuches around 1475.

Introspection: Fake It 'til You Break It

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Comments are always welcomed.

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Fake It 'til You Break It

Let your yes mean yes, and your no mean no.

Matthew 5:37 (CEB)

I hold my breath as this life starts to take its toll

I hide behind a smile as this perfect plan unfolds

From "Away from Me" by Evanescence

In May of 2009, I took a week off from work to do some home repair in another town, as a part of a regional work-camp ministry of my denomination.¹  When I returned to the office after Memorial Day, I learned that the company for which I worked, which had recently bought another company, was consolidating offices and moving all operations out of state.  Most people would have considered such a revelation to be bad news.  I, on the other hand, considered it an answer to prayer.  I hated my job because I was ashamed that I worked for a casino vendor.  I had been praying for months that God would somehow get me out of it, and I finally had a legitimate reason to leave.

At that time, I wanted nothing more than to get out of my job, but it seems that my job didn't want to get its claws out of me.  Not long after I learned about the company's impending move, I received a call from my supervisor.  He asked me if I would meet with him and our boss at the company's new headquarters to discuss the possibility of my relocating.  I told him I was not at all interested in moving, nor was I interested in hearing any offers.  I thought the matter was settled.

I was wrong.  Not long after the first call, my supervisor called me again, and, once again he asked me to meet with him and our boss at the new location.  I asked if the reason for the meeting was something we could discuss over the phone.  He said it wasn't, so I had no choice but to drive two hours to the company's new location in the next state over.

My boss, who was already aware that I was unwilling to relocate, asked me if I would be interested in working from home temporarily.  This was not what I wanted to hear.  I had been given a way out of my job, but my job was trying to suck me back in.  To be perfectly honest, the arrangement was feasible, though it would have been impractical.  The light at the end of the tunnel was growing dim, so I responded with the only excuse I could find.  I said that, living with my mother, I would not have enough room at my house for the equipment I needed to do my job.  My boss was a bit surprised with my response.  He offered to rebuild the setup I had been using, and I told him that there still wouldn't be enough room for it.

Sometimes you just have to put your foot down and stop the merry-go-round.

My boss told me that my last day would be July 31.  He also said that I might be asked to work from the new location during my last week or two.  As you can probably tell, I wasn't very keen on traveling.  Typically what got me through the workday was the knowledge that I would get to go home in a matter of hours, so I didn't really want to start living out of a hotel, even for a couple of weeks.  In fact, during my interview, I specifically asked if the job would require any travel, and my boss told me that it was not a "road warrior" job.  For some reason - perhaps I was just being honest - I told him that I didn't really want to work at the new location.

With that comment, my boss had apparently had enough.  Since he had already effectively terminated me, he was left with no other response but to tell me exactly what he thought of me.  He told me that he was shocked that a programmer of my caliber would be so uncooperative.  He told me that he was very disappointed in me and that I needed to think about that.

Believe me when I say that I've thought long and hard about what a no-good, dirty, arrogant, self-important, self-centered, foul-tempered, mean-spirited, uncouth, unprofessional, disloyal, dishonest, money-grubbing, slave-driving, bottom-dwelling piece of work he is.²

But at least I'm not bitter.

I think a large part of my problem back then was the fact that I wasn't being completely honest, with myself or with others.  That day, I was less than forthcoming with my boss, but that ugly confrontation was just the result of a history of dishonesty.  Everybody in my life knew that I wasn't happy with my job, but, around my superiors, I played the part of a good employee.  When I accepted that job, I hadn't honestly thought through my feelings about working in the gambling industry, because I was too worried about getting a job.  When I was in college, I wasn't completely honest with myself about the fact that I didn't really want to be a computer programmer.  I just focused on graduating so that I could get a job that would pay the bills, which is what I was supposed to do.

Recently I've come to realize that what happened with my first job has been a repeating pattern in my life.  Basically, I have a tendency to float my way into a bad situation and to stay in it far too long, and eventually I will have to fight my way out, at least emotionally.  The details vary from time to time, but the pattern follows a general progression.

1. Because I'm living without intentionality, I float into a situation in which something is expected of me, and I stay because I have people-pleaser tendencies.  It's not like I have anything else going on in my life, so I don't exactly have a good reason to say "no."

2. As more and more is expected of me, I become unhappy.  I hide my feelings - from others or even from myself - because I want to do the right thing and, more importantly, because I don't want anyone to hate me.

3. I become depressed because I feel stuck.  My depression manifests itself as irritability or outright anger.  By this time, obligation has given birth to resentment, and I wonder why I have to put up with this crap when nobody else does.

4. Inevitably the time comes when I can no longer pretend to be happy.  I finally decide to extricate myself from the situation, and I end up hurting people, disappointing people, or letting people down.

I have a friend who lives by the adage, "Fake it 'til you make it."  I think my way of life can be described as, "Fake it 'til you break it."

A couple of years ago, because of pressure and meddling from other people, I ended up in a relationship that wasn't right for me.  It had not become romantic, but I knew that the other person had feelings for me that I didn't have for her.  When I could no longer fake a smile, I broke things off with her.  I ended up hurting the person I least wanted to hurt - probably the most innocent person I have ever met - and I hated myself for months afterward.  She forgave me, but, in some sick way, I think I would have felt better if she resented me.

Another part of my life in which I wasn't fully honest about my feelings was my involvement with my church - the church I had attended for my entire life.  Despite the fact that I was heavily involved in the church, serving on the Church Council, teaching Sunday school somewhat regularly, and even preaching occasionally, I wasn't very happy about being there.  It is not easy to be the only young person at a very small church.  For me, it was a lonely existence, and I felt as though the future of the church was on my shoulders.  In the last year or so before I finally decided to leave, my attitude had grown worse and worse.  I think that others in the church, including the previous pastor, suspected that something about me was amiss.

The size of my church's congregation had been in decline since long before I was born.  The church had been focused inward for far too long.  Younger people left; older people passed away; and, every now and then, someone would become angry with someone else and leave.  Eventually, I was the only young person left.  Late last year, when the Church Council began discussing our pastor's upcoming transfer to another church, I remember saying that we needed a pastor who would light a fire under our seats, figuratively speaking.  Six months later, we were assigned such a pastor - the ambitious type we desperately needed - but it turns out that I was the one who could not take the heat.

After the new pastor arrived, I started to become increasingly nervous, and I started having stomach problems on Sunday mornings.  In my time on the Church Council, I had seen firsthand how resistant to change the congregation was, and, after a failed partnership with a local homeless ministry last year, I began to feel that any progress in the church would depend on me.  I felt that more and more would be expected of me when I didn't really want to be there.  I was lonely: I wanted to be with people my age.  I felt that my church needed more from me than I could give, yet, at the same time, I felt I needed more from my church than my church could give.

For nearly five years, I had been attending a mid-week Bible study at a large church downtown.  This Bible study group, like the collegiate ministry I attended before it, gave me the opportunity to connect with other people my age.  When a number of core people left the group for various reasons and I began to see that the future of the group was uncertain, I feared that I would soon be further isolated from my friends and my peers.  I finally made the difficult decision to leave behind the church I had been attending ever since I was in my mother's womb and to start attending church with my friends.

I started drafting an email to my pastor and my lay leader, and, after I had been attending my new church for a few weeks, I decided it was time to send it.  One Monday morning a few weeks ago, I got out of bed, showered and dressed, clicked the "send" button, drove to work, took an Imodium, and waited for everything to hit the fan.

I think I expected the people from my church to react to my decision to leave in the same way that my former boss did six years ago.  Though there was no grace to be found in a godless industry, other people in my life have been gracious to me.  In moments when I was reminded that I am no better than those I've resentfully judged in the past, people showed me more grace than I showed myself.  I've been forgiven by people who, in my opinion, had every right to resent me.  It is a humbling, sometimes painful kind of grace.  Though I felt I was abandoning my church when my church needed me the most, nobody held my decision against me.  My pastor, my lay leader, and my mother all understood how I felt.

I am grateful to the church in which I grew up for giving me the space to grow spiritually, but now I need to move on.  I am keeping the congregation in my prayers as they look toward the future.

According to Rob Bell, "You can't say no until you've said yes."  In other words, once a person has figured out what is truly important to her and has fully invested herself in it, she is free to say no to all the things that would distract her from it.  It is better to passionately do a few things well than to spread oneself thin by doing many things out of guilt or obligation.³  I guess the key to saying no is to find a yes.  I'm still figuring out what is truly important to me, but, hopefully, I'm zeroing in on it.

More than once in my life, I have seen how important it is to live with intentionality and to have clearly defined priorities, or else I will float into undesirable situations.  More than once, I have also seen how important it is to be honest about my feelings, to myself and to others, so that I don't stay in situations that are no longer right for me.  I hope that I have finally taken these lessons to heart.  May you, the reader, also see the importance of intentionality and honesty in your life, and may you not make the same mistakes I have made.


Notes:

1. http://www.salkehatchie.org/home/
2. Quoth Clark Griswold, "Where's the Tylenol?"
3. Rob Bell.  "One Thing."  The RobCast, Episode 1, 01/11/2015.

The photograph of the broken glass is public domain.

Perspective: Jesus and Socrates

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

Jesus and Socrates

How a Philosophy Class Strengthened My Faith

For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself."

Galatians 5:14 (NRSV)

I believe that Love is the answer

I believe that Love will find the way

From "I Believe" by Blessid Union of Souls

It was just over twelve years ago when I began my freshman year in college.  At the university I attended, the seniors always had the first opportunity to register for classes, for they were the ones who were scrambling to complete all of their academic requirements in time to graduate.  The freshmen, on the other hand, had to battle it out for the seats that remained in whichever classes hadn't been filled to capacity after everyone else had already registered.  When I registered for my first term during orientation, my adviser suggested that I pick out as many as twelve classes to be sure that I got the three I needed for the term.  A few days later, I found myself registered for one of the classes toward the bottom of my list, an introductory course in western philosophy.

Before I took this course, I didn't know very much about the realm of philosophy except that it was supposedly very difficult, but I found the course to be surprisingly enjoyable.  The class taught me to think about things in new ways, and the reading assignments proved to be welcome diversions from the headache-inducing calculus problems and Java programming assignments that made up the rest of my coursework.  I enjoyed the course so much that I took another philosophy course with the same professor during my sophomore year.  Maybe I would have majored in philosophy had I not been so worried about finding a job after college.

At the beginning of the course, the class studied some of the writings of Plato, a Greek philosopher who lived four hundred years before the time of Christ.  Plato wrote primarily in dialogues - or conversations - between his teacher Socrates and other people.  One that stands out in my memory is a dialogue between Socrates and a friend named Euthyphro.  Socrates is awaiting a court trial because someone has accused him of corrupting young people with his teachings.  On the way to court he meets Euthyphro who is bringing murder charges against his own father.  Because of the complexity of the case, Socrates asks Euthyphro how he can be sure that his actions in pressing charges are righteous.  The two then engage in a discussion about the nature of righteous actions.

Socrates is seeking the Form of all righteous actions.  In other words, he wants to know what makes certain actions righteous.  Euthyphro suggests that any action loved by the gods is righteous and that any action hated by the gods is wicked.  After the two work their way around the fact that the various gods in the Greek pantheon have different values, as evidenced by the fact that they are often in conflict with each other, Socrates decides to dig deeper.  He asks, "Is the pious being loved by the gods because it is pious, or is it pious because it is being loved by the gods?"¹  In other words, are certain actions considered righteous because the gods appreciate them?  Or do the gods appreciate certain actions specifically because those actions are righteous?  This question is known to philosophy nerds as the Euthyphro dilemma.²

Though some Christians have a tendency to portray philosophy professors as antichrists hellbent on destroying the faith of young people,³ my philosophy professor was a devout Catholic who had no problem speaking in Christian terms.  When he presented the Euthryprho dilemma to the class, he asked, "Is something good because God says so, or does God say so because it is good?"

This question would ultimately change the way I approach matters of faith.

In general, Christians understand the Bible to be, in some way, the inspired word of God.  From the Law of Moses, to the words of the prophets, to the teachings of Christ, to the letters of early Christian saints, the Bible contains many rules, guidelines, and discussions concerning morality.  In debates about moral issues, many Christians will cite passages of the Bible and say, "The Bible says it; I believe it; and that settles it."  Because of my brief encounter with philosophy, such an answer is no longer good enough for me.  I want to know why the Bible says what it does.  I want to know why God loves certain actions and hates other actions.

The Euthryprho dilemma offers us two options, both of which seem somewhat problematic to me.  One side of the dilemma suggests that God decides what is righteous and what is wicked.  Many Christians would be just fine with such a concept, but, to me, it makes the difference between right and wrong seem somewhat arbitrary.  I am reminded of a certain American president who said, in the midst of a scandal, "When the President does it, that means that it is not illegal."  The other side of the dilemma suggests that there is some standard of righteousness that exists apart from God.  If this is the case, then God would have to be bound by this standard in order to be truly righteous.  Can a sovereign God be bound by a standard that the same God did not create?⁴

With such brain-liquefying questions, is it any wonder that St. Paul would warn his readers not to be taken captive by philosophy?⁵  Is such questioning actually productive?

Personally I think that philosophy has something to offer the Christian faith.  Paul also encourages his readers to "test everything" and to "hold fast to what is good."⁶  Testing everything includes testing matters of faith and religion.  I believe that philosophical inquiry, as demonstrated by Socrates, is one way to test everything to find what is good.  Despite Paul's warning, I believe that philosophy has actually strengthened my faith, for, as I pondered these questions, I realized that Jesus actually answered Socrates's question a few centuries after Socrates asked it.

One day, a scholar of the Scriptures approached Jesus with a philosophical question of his own.  He asked, "Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?"  There were 613 commandments in the Jewish Law, and this scholar wanted to know which of these commandments Jesus considered the most important.  Jesus replied,
"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind."  This is the greatest and first commandment.  And a second is like it: "You shall love your neighbor as yourself."⁷

Jesus then made a rather bold statement, "On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets."⁸  Basically, Jesus said that anything the Jewish Law commands or any exhortation from the ancient prophets stems from the commandments to love God and to love other people.  Perhaps one could even go so far as to say that all God really wants from us is to love, that all God was trying to achieve by giving the Law and speaking through the prophets is to teach humanity how to love.

Perhaps love is the answer to Socrates's inquiry: perhaps love is what makes an action truly righteous.  To use the philosophical lingo of Plato and Socrates, perhaps it could be said that love is the Form of all righteous actions.

Love might very well be the litmus test to determine whether or not an action is truly righteous; however, naming the standard of righteousness does not completely solve the Euthryphro dilemma.  We can still ask ourselves whether love is something God defined and created or something apart from God to which God must be bound in order to be righteous.

I do not know if the early Christian theologian St. John was familiar with the writings of Plato, but I believe that he actually offers us a solution to the Euthryprho dilemma.  In a letter addressed to the early Church, he writes a lot about love, the standard by which all actions are judged as righteous or wicked.  He argues that, if a person loves, then he or she knows God and that, if a person does not love, then he or she does not know God.  He then makes a very provocative statement about God:

God is love.⁹

Perhaps the standard of righteousness is neither something created by God nor something existing apart from God.  Perhaps the standard of righteousness is the very nature of God.¹⁰

Many have turned to the Bible in their pursuit of what is right and good, resulting in an obsession with all things "biblical."  If you browse the religion section of your local bookstore, you will find books about biblical leadership, biblical marriage, biblical gender roles, biblical worldviews, biblical finances, biblical politics, and even biblical weight loss.  To seek merely what is "biblical" is to fall short of the goal, for all things biblical are meant to point us to all things loving.  According to Jesus, all religious instruction is meant to teach us how to love, and, according to St. John, when we learn how to love, we come to know God.

In some Christian circles, older folks try to "prepare" young people so that, when they step out of the safety of their bubble into academia, their faith won't be destroyed by religion or philosophy classes.  When I went to college, taking such classes actually strengthened my wavering faith.  My brief love affair with philosophy taught me to approach my faith in fresh new ways and helped me to find a reason to keep believing.  In fact, it might be one reason I am still a Christian today, for it has helped me to keep my focus on what is most important.

Love is the answer,

and God is love.


Notes:

1. Plato.  Five Dialogues.  Translated by G.M.A. Grube and revised by John M. Cooper.  2002, Hackett Publishing Company.  p.1-20
2. See Wikipedia: Euthyphro dilemma.
3. I think about a certain film that shares a name with a certain Christian pop song.
4. See Wikipedia: Euthyphro dilemma, section: Explanation of the dilemma.
5. Colossians 2:8
6. 1 Thessalonians 5:21 (NRSV)
7. Matthew 22:34-39 (NRSV)
8. Matthew 22:40 (NRSV)
9. 1 John 4:7-8
10. This was essentially the conclusion reached by Christian philosophers like Anselm, Augustine, and Aquinas.  See Wikipedia: Euthryphro Dilemma, section: False dilemma response.

The photograph featured in this perspective was taken by Wikipedia user DIMSFIKAS is used under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported license.  The photographer is in no way affiliated with this blog.  The statue of Socrates is located in front of the Academy of Athens.

Introspection: A Missing Piece of the Puzzle

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

A Missing Piece of the Puzzle

Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-7 (NRSV)

How many times have You heard me cry out

"God, please take this"?

How many times have You given me strength to

Just keep breathing?

Oh, I need You

God, I need You now

From "Need You Now" by Plumb

As I noted previously, not long ago, I asked my friends to pray for me, because I felt that some things in my life needed to change.  Since then, I've learned how important it is to beware when making such a request.  A lot of good has come into my life, but also a lot has changed.  I have made the difficult decision to leave the church I've attended my entire life to go to a larger church where I can be with my peers.¹  I have also had to take on a greater leadership role in the Bible study group in which I've participated for the last five years.  In the midst of these changes, I've felt anxiety about numerous things, including the future of my Bible study group and of the church I'm leaving behind.  The anxiety, joy, and uprootedness of my life has put me on an emotional roller coaster.

As far as I can remember, I have always been prone to anxiety.  A few years ago, I came to the conclusion that worry must be some sort of addiction, for it makes no sense that a person would willingly do something so utterly unpleasant.  I'm starting to think that maybe worry is not an addiction but rather a withdrawal symptom.  I think that maybe control is the substance to which the worrier is actually addicted.  Though we do have a limited measure of control in our lives, we are all subject to forces beyond our control, both natural and supernatural.

Lately I've been convicted about my lack of trust in God.  Though I believe that God loves me and has acted mightily in my life in the past, I typically fall into one of two ways of thinking.  Sometimes I think that God is rather uninvolved in my life, leaving me to fend for myself.  Other times I fear that what God wants for me something I really don't want for myself.  The idea of turning things over to God always makes me nervous, because I am afraid that my hopes, dreams, and desires will end up on the proverbial chopping block.  I'm starting to wonder if maybe the first things I need to turn over to God are the things I actually want God to take away from me - things like anxiety.

At the Christian school I attended for many years, I heard over and over again about the importance of spending some quiet time with God in the morning, but I never imagined myself actually doing this.  I have never been a morning person, and historically my mornings have been a mad dash to get ready for the day and to get out the door on time.

A little over a year ago, I started making it a practice to read a Bible passage from the daily Lectionary every morning before going to work.  I do this to start my day off on a positive note, to give myself something on which to meditate throughout the day, and to give myself a reason to write after work.  I've thoroughly enjoyed this new practice, but, to be honest, it has been a bit of a struggle for me.  I had to start setting my alarm clock to go off little bit earlier in the morning, and I've had to fight harder against the gravitational pull between my head and my pillow.  On my worst mornings, reading my Bible becomes one more thing I do hurriedly before brushing my teeth, grabbing my personal effects, and heading out the door.

I have come to realize that there is a missing piece of the puzzle, something else I need to incorporate into my morning quiet time.  Perhaps, before putting something into my mind, I need to first get some things out of my mind.  I think my anxiety is a symptom of a lack of trust in God, but, at the same time, I think my lack of trust in God is related to a lack of prayer in my life.  In studying the Psalms, the prayer book of the Hebrew people, I see how David and the other Psalmists routinely turned to God in the midst of their troubles.  Their first reaction to trouble is to pray.  My first reaction is to worry.

I have learned a lot about prayer over time.  After taking a class on prayer last year, I have become pretty good at writing prayers, but I'm not very good at praying regularly.  To be honest, prayer is something that still leaves me mystified.  If God knows what we need better than we do, then why do we need to ask?  Do our prayers actually cause God to take action in a particular way?  Years ago, I prayed to God every morning about a bad job situation, and, months later, I was provided a way out.  Did God act because I prayed?  Or would the same events have happened regardless of whether or not I prayed?  To be honest, I don't really know, but I'm thankful to God anyway.

I always cringe a little bit when I hear somebody say that "prayer works."  I don't think prayer is ineffective, but sometimes I wonder if we confuse prayer with magic.  Using the right words to convince supernatural forces to do one's bidding is not praying, but rather casting a spell.  We might end our prayers with the words, "In Jesus' name I pray," because Jesus said, "If you ask anything of the Father in My name, He will give it to you."²  We might begin a prayer with, "Dear Heavenly Father," and throw in, "if it be Thy will," a few times, hoping to make God more receptive.  I speak from experience in this matter.

As I see it, to pray about a situation is not to try to get God to give us the outcome we want.  To pray about a situation is to put the situation fully into God's capable hands and to trust in God regardless of the outcome.

Though I believe that prayer has the potential to change our circumstances, I believe that prayer changes us more than it changes our circumstances.  According to preacher Brian Zahnd, "The primary purpose of prayer is not to get God to do what you want Him to do, but to be properly formed."³  God is always at work in the world.  I believe that, when our hearts are in the right place, we give God the opportunity to work through us and not in spite of us.  In the words of one early theologian, we become "partners with Christ."⁴  Prayer changes us, and, when prayer changes us, we become the agents through which God can change the world around us.

I don't fully understand how prayer works, but I know that I cannot keep living with anxiety.  Anxiety is not something I can conquer by myself, and so many things that give me anxiety are things I cannot control.  I have no choice but to trust in God, to trust that God really does work out all things for good.⁵  In the last few days, I've started taking a few minutes each morning to pray, specifically to turn over to God all sources or potential sources of anxiety in my life, so that I may live in the present moment.  Once again, I've had to set my alarm clock to go off little bit earlier, but it's a small price to pay for the peace I hope to find.

Lately my life has been a roller coaster ride full of joy, anxiety, uncertainty, and discouragement, but I take comfort in the knowledge that God has a purpose for me in the midst of it all.  I think that God has a purpose for each of us, amid the rise and fall of the tide.  There are things in our lives we can control, and in such matters we are invited to seek wisdom from God.  There are other matters in which we must choose to either trust in God or worry ourselves sick.  God is always at work in this world, and, even if everything crashes and burns all around us, we can trust in God to bring something good out of the wreckage.


Notes:

1. More about this decision will likely follow.
2. John 16:23 (NRSV)
3. Brian Zahnd.  "You Are What You Pray."  Brianzahnd.com, 05/27/13.
4. Hebrews 3:14 (CEB)
5. Romans 8:28 (CEB)

Praying Hands was drawn by Albrecht Dürer around 1508.