Introspection: A Simple Act of Inclusion

The following introspection is an excerpt from a sermon delivered at Slater United Methodist Church in Slater-Marietta, South Carolina on October 30, 2016.  The entire sermon, titled "The Man in the Tree," will be posted on November 13, 2016.

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 Simple Act of Inclusion

When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today."  So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him.  All who saw it began to grumble and said, "He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner."

Luke 19:5-7 (NRSV)

You invite us in

Doesn't matter who we've been

Your arms are open wide

Pulling us to Your side

From "You Invite Me In" by Meredith Andrews

Jesus had a way of making the excluded feel included.

In the Gospel of John, we read that one day, while passing through a Samaritan town, Jesus sat down beside a well to rest while the Disciples went to the market to buy food.  When a woman came to the well to draw some water, Jesus asked her for a drink.  Women normally drew water in the morning, but this woman waited until noon to avoid her peers, for a string of broken marriages in her past had given her a bad reputation.  It is remarkable that Jesus, a Jew, would even ask a Samaritan woman for a drink, since Jews and Samaritans generally hated each other, but Jesus was speaking with an outcast among outcasts.¹  Jesus took the opportunity to have a heart-to-heart conversation with her that left her a changed woman.  She forgot all about her shame and told everyone in town about the man she had come to believe was their long-awaited messiah.²

Never underestimate the power of a simple act of inclusion.  Simply sitting with someone, talking with someone, sharing a meal with someone, asking someone for help and gratefully accepting his or her help, or doing anything that says to someone, "I'm with you, and I'm for you," has the potential to make an impact in a person's life.

During my first two years of college, I was, for the most part, a loner and a hermit, mostly because I was a commuter.  Though I occasionally hung out with some of my high school friends who also attended the same university, I typically drove to campus every day, attended my classes, and then went home.

At the beginning of my Junior year, I learned about the Wesley Fellowship, the Untied Methodist group on campus.  The young men and women in this group knew how to make a person feel welcomed, included, and loved.  During the fall, I joined the group for a retreat at Lake Junaluska, and, during the retreat, we had a healing service.  When my turn came to sit in the middle of the circle, everyone placed their hands on me, and I felt the love of everyone in the room.

On one Friday evening, I went to the campus chapel to attend a lecture.  I saw some of my friends from the group sitting together on one of the pews, but, because the pew was full, I took a seat on the pew behind them where I would still be able to talk with them.  Three of my friends – Kim, Ginger, and John – stood up and moved back to sit with me.  I doubt they even remember doing this, but this small act of inclusion meant a lot to me.  Another friend turned around and said, "We could have squeezed you in."

Being involved with the Wesley Fellowship changed my life.  For years, I had known that I needed to be a Christian, but this group made realize that I actually wanted to be a Christian.  I began to see church less as an event I attended every Sunday morning and more as a community built on love.  I think that maybe the inclusive nature of the group is what made me want to make sure that the people around me feel included.  Is there any wonder why I would remain involved with the group for three years after I graduated?


Notes:

1. Adam Hamilton.  The Way: Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus.  2012, Abingdon Press.  pp. 127-128
2. John 4:1-42

The painting of Jesus and the Woman at the Well was painted by Carl Heinrich Bloch in the late 1800s.

Perspective: Pleading Our Case

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

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

Pleading Our Case

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 4:16 (NRSV)

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The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit;

a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

Psalm 51:17 (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

Jesus once told a parable about a poor widow who has suffered some sort of injustice at the hands of another person.  She appeals to a judge, begging him to grant her justice.  This judge, we are told, has neither respect for God nor compassion for other people.  He shrugs the widow off, but the widow will not take "no" for an answer.  Day after day the widow returns to him, pleading her case and begging for justice.  Eventually the widow wears the judge down with her persistence.   He finally realizes that she is never going to leave him alone, so he decides to rule in her favor, not to do what is right but to get her off of his back.¹

Jesus then told a parable about two men who went to the temple to pray.  One was a Pharisee - in other words, a good, upstanding religious person.  The other was a tax collector, regarded by most people as the scum of the earth and a traitor.  The Pharisee, with his head held high, thanks God that he is better than sinners like the tax collector in the temple with him.  He goes on to remind God that he faithfully fasts and tithes.  The tax collector, by contrast, hangs his head low, beats his chest, and prays, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!"²

Scholar N.T. Wright likens both of these to courtroom dramas, arguing that both are about vindication.³  In the first parable, which actually takes place in a courtroom, the widow appears before the judge to plead her case, but the judge will not rule in her favor.  She appeals to the judge over and over again until the judge finally rules in her favor.

The second parable does not take place in a courtroom, but in some sense both the Pharisee and the tax collector appear before their Judge.  The Pharisee pleads his case by testifying to his own innocence in comparison to other people, particularly the scummy tax collector.  The tax collector, on the other hand, does not try to convince the Judge of his innocence but rather pleads guilty and throws himself upon the mercy of the court.  Jesus says that the tax collector, not the Pharisee, is the one who left the temple justified.  The Greek word dikaioō, which is translated as justified means "to declare, pronounce, one to be just, righteous, or such as he ought to be."⁴  In the context of a courtroom, to be justified is to be vindicated, meaning that the judge has ruled in a one's favor.^{5 6}

As I see it, both of these parables teach us about prayer.  Perhaps it could be said that when we pray we plead our case before God.  The Parable of the Persistent Widow teaches us to pray not only with persistence, but also with complete trust in God.  If a poor widow can be confident that she will someday convince an utterly amoral judge to do what is right, then we can be confident that our Judge, who is loving and righteous, already wants to do what is right for us.  The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector teaches us to pray with humility.  Humility is not thinking poorly of oneself but being brutally honest about oneself, neither inflating nor diminishing one's own importance.  Our Judge sides not with the self-righteous and arrogant but with the humble and broken.

On the night that Jesus was arrested, He plead His case before God, praying, "Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done."⁷  He knew that His recent acts of protest had caught the attention of the powers that be, and He knew what was about to happen to Him.  He did not want to endure the suffering that awaited Him, but He placed God's will above His own.  The prayer Jesus prays demonstrates both the trust and the humility He promotes in the two aforementioned parables.  By praying that God's will is done, He demonstrates His trust that His Father's will is for the good of all, and, by placing His own will below God's, He demonstrates humility.

The cup of suffering Jesus did not want to drink was not taken from Him.  He was condemned by humans to death on a cross, but He was vindicated by God when He was raised from the dead.  It is believed that, through His crucifixion and resurrection, all of humanity was somehow set free from sin and death.  What humanity willed for evil, God willed for good.

We are invited to plead our case before God.  We pray boldly, trusting that our just and loving God wants to do what is right for us, even before we ask.  We pray humbly, knowing that our infinitely wise God knows what is best for all of us.

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For additional thoughts about prayer, check out my recent sermon "Asking, Searching, and Knocking" and my introspection "A Missing Piece of the Puzzle."

For additional thoughts about the Parable of the Persistent Widow, check out my old sermon "Not Like Us."

For additional thoughts about the Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, check out my perspective "The Prideful and the Penitent."


Notes:

1. Luke 18:1-8
2. Luke 18:9-14 (NRSV)
3. N.T. Wright.  Luke for Everyone.  2004, Westminster John Knox Press.  p. 213
4. Blue Letter Bible: dikaioō
5. Wright, p. 212
6. If justification is the same as vindication, then perhaps justifying grace can be understood as the grace of God that declares us "not guilty" when we acknowledge our sin and repent of it.
7. Luke 22:42 (NRSV)

The illustration of the persistent widow and the unjust judge was drawn by an anonymous artist around 1900.  The Pharisee and the Publican was painted by James Tissot in 1894.

Introspection: A Time of Stagnation

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 Time of Stagnation

Hope postponed grieves the heart;

but when a dream comes true, life is full and sweet.

Proverbs 13:12 (The Voice)

Tonight

I'm alive

I've watched you all grow up and so have I

Inside

This isn't really what I had in mind

From "Tonight" by Staind

My previous introspection was a testimony I delivered as part of a talk last weekend during a spiritual retreat.  This year, I have tried really hard to post something every week, but sometimes, when my life is rather busy, I end up posting whatever I have on hand.  That testimony documents a span of roughly five years, starting with my falling into a bad job situation in late 2007 and continuing through a time of radical growth in my life until late 2012.  People who have followed my writing for any significant amount of time might be tired of reading about my experience in the gambling industry, but it is a story I will treasure in my heart for the rest of my life.  It is my story of being delivered from shame and misery and being called to greater purpose in life.

During that time of growth, I thought that my life was going somewhere.  In 2012, I started to think that my life was going somewhere I did not want it to go.  I say this as one who has a tendency to float through life.  Eventually, when the proverbial merry-go-round starting spinning a little too fast, I put my foot down to stop the ride.  2013 was a rather difficult year for me, for I saw some things in myself I didn't particularly want to see.  2014 wasn't much better.

The last two years have been for me a time of frustration and restlessness.  My life is not what I would like it to be: I feel that I ought to be further on my journey than I am right now.  There are times when I wonder if my life is going anywhere at all.  Spinning my wheels is a phrase I have used a lot lately.  I'm not saying that my life is devoid of anything good and meaningful; in fact, sometimes there is so much going on in my life that life seems hectic.  Despite my busyness, something about my life just seems stagnant at times.  I feel that something needs to change, but I'm not quite sure what that something is.

Some people would refer to my time working in the gambling industry as a wilderness experience, comparing it to the ancient Israelites' long journey through the desert from Egypt to the Promised Land or to Jesus' forty days of fasting and struggling against temptation in the desert.  Once I would have agreed, but now I'm not so sure.  In the case of the ancient Israelites, the wilderness experience was the long, arduous journey from a place of oppression and misery to the place God had prepared for them.  That said, I wonder if maybe my "exodus" from the gambling industry actually marked my entry into the wilderness.¹

The wilderness is the seemingly endless wasteland that stretches between the place we were not meant to be and the place we were meant to be.  It is where we are prepared for whatever comes next.  It is the place where we could very well be stripped of everything until we are left with nothing that is not truly part of ourselves.  In the wilderness there is freedom, but there is also great difficulty.  In the wilderness, we receive instruction from God, and we also contend with God.  In the wilderness, we progress toward our destination at times, and we wander aimlessly at times.  In the wilderness there are highs and lows, successes and failures, times of growth and times of stagnation.

Every since I entered into the wilderness, it seems that every supposed sighting of whatever "promised land" awaits me has turned out to be a mirage or an oasis.  Perhaps I have yet to learn whatever lessons the wilderness experience is supposed to teach me.  Several months ago, I agreed to help with the retreat, but, as the weekend drew near, I began to hope that God would give me some great, life-changing epiphany.  I just hoped that something would happen - something that would give me some clarity about my journey ahead.

Unfortunately, I received no such revelation, but I would not say that I was left wanting.  Early in the weekend, I became aware of my negativity and my cynicism - perhaps one could say I was "convicted."  I began to wonder if maybe my pessimistic outlook is contributing to what I perceive as stagnation in my life.  Negativity robs us of hope and joy, and bitterness keeps us trapped in the past, unable to move forward into the future.  I decided to repent of these things.  I will not say that I've suddenly become Mr. Positivity: changing my outlook on life will be an ongoing process.  I will have to choose to be hopeful and optimistic day by day, with each opportunity that comes my way.

A twinge of pain later in the weekend helped me to understand why I had turned to negativity: I have been using negativity to numb myself.  If I choose to be hopeful, I will leave myself vulnerable to pain.  Hope is easily misplaced, and false hope often leads to disappointment and heartache, but despair brings with it a twisted sense of certainty.  If I just assume that life is nothing but a big pile of crap, I will never have to worry about being disappointed.  There are plenty of opportunities for confirmation bias to tell me that I'm right, but I can be pleasantly surprised when life actually goes well.  On the other hand, a negative outlook holds me down and keeps me from reaching out for something better.  By choosing to be hopeful, I run the risk of disappointment or failure, but with greater risks come greater rewards.

I'm beginning to think that facts are overrated.  For example, when I hear somebody say something like "God brought you here for a reason," I typically think to myself, "You don't know that!  You have no idea what God is actually thinking, so stop making such claims for God!"  None of our claims about God can be empirically verified, and our talk about God's will and God's plan can be very problematic when we speak irresponsibly and without humility.  For these reasons, I try to make as few claims about God as possible, allowing God to simply be mysterious.  That said, I'm starting to wonder how my life might be different if I lived as though God brought me where I am for a reason, as if I had some divinely-given purpose wherever I was at any given moment.  Often what we believe actually affects us more than what is factual.

The Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard once mused, "Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards."  Often we don't understand what is really going on in our lives until we look backward from far into the future.  To reference a certain poem, it is only when we look back that we begin to understand the number of trails of footprints behind us.  My life seems stagnant at the moment, but someday I might look back at this supposed time of stagnation from a different vantage point and see how God was at work in my life the whole time.  Until then, as I continue trudging through the wilderness, I pray for a new outlook and the courage to be hopeful.


Notes:

1. Please note that I'm not trying to compare my bad job experience to actual slavery.

The photograph of the desert canyon was taken by Bob Miles of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and has been released into the public domain.

Introspection: A Time of Growth

This testimony was originally part of a talk delivered during a spiritual retreat on October 8, 2016.

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 Time of Growth

So be careful how you live; be mindful of your steps.  Don't run around like idiots as the rest of the world does.  Instead, walk as the wise!  Make the most of every living and breathing moment because these are evil times.  So understand and be confident in God's will, and don't live thoughtlessly.

Ephesians 5:15-17 (The Voice)

I want to know You

I want to hear Your voice

I want to know You more

From "In the Secret" by Andy Park

There is a famous poem that describes a dream in which the poet is walking on a beach with God.  As she walks, she sees scenes from her life flashing across the sky in front of her, and, in each of these scenes, she sees footprints in the sand.  She begins to realize that, during the happy scenes of her life, she sees two sets of footprints and that, during the darker times, she sees only one set of footprints.  She reaches the disturbing conclusion that, during those dark times, God was nowhere to be found, and she asks God why He wasn't there for her when she needed Him the most.  God replies that, when she saw only one set of footprints, He was carrying her.

Many people consider the "Footprints" poem cliché, if not a bit cheesy.  I would probably roll my eyes at it as well, had I not lived it for myself.

In September of 2007, a few months after I graduated from college, I began working as a software engineer for a small company that made video games.  At first, my job might sound like a young programmer's dream, but this company did not make the type of video games in which a player fights hostile aliens or sets out on a journey to save a princess.  No, this company made the type of video game on which a player might literally waste his or her entire paycheck, hoping to hit the jackpot.

When I first heard about the job, I didn't think it would be a big deal to work in the gambling industry.  I never thought that gambling was a particularly good use of a person's money, but I figured that, as long as a person practiced moderation, it's not really a problem.  Plus, after spending my senior year hearing about the outsourcing of tech jobs, I figured I should probably take whatever job I could get without any actual work experience.  I could get the two years of experience I needed to land any other job and then move on.

After I accepted that job, I began to experience a growing sense of shame that followed me wherever I went.  I hated telling people where I worked, and sometimes, if I was asked, I would answer as vaguely as possible.  Around a year later, after my first major crunch period, I realized that my employers wanted a lot more from me than I wanted to give them.

I regretted accepting that job, and I even regretted majoring in computer science.  I realized that I had floated my way through life, doing only what I was supposed to do, and I felt that, by choosing my major based primarily on what would pay the bills, I had let a world of opportunities slip through my fingers.  I desperately wanted out of my job.  I just couldn't quit, because the fact that I had simply quit a job would not look good on my résumé if I ever wanted to work again.  I was hesitant to seek another programming job, since I wasn't even sure I wanted to be a programmer.  I was trapped.

That season of my life would mark the beginning of a time of growth for me.

Stuck in a bad job situation and unsure how to move forward, I turned to God.  Every day before work, I prayed that God would call me away from my job to something better.  While I waited, I began to wonder if maybe I had a future in the ministry.  I became more involved in the Church.  Wondering if I had it in me to deliver a sermon, I asked my pastor for a few opportunities to preach.  I also volunteered to teach Sunday school, knowing that my opportunities to preach would be few and far between once my current pastor retired.  I also started blogging so that I could continue writing and sharing my faith when I didn't have other opportunities.

Months passed, and my prayers were finally answered.  The company for which I worked bought another company, consolidated offices, and moved all operations out of state.  I finally had a legitimate reason to leave: because I was unwilling to relocate, I was terminated.

Looking back on the twenty-two months I spent in that dreary office in that godless industry, I see that God was holding me close the whole time.  In fact, I consider my job in the gambling industry a gift from God - in the same way the whale that swallowed Jonah was a gift from God.  It was the wake-up call that made me realize how important it is for me to be intentional about my life and my faith.  I sought another programming job, but, this time, I was more intentional with my search.  Three months after I lost my job, I began working as a computer programmer at Greenville Technical College.  For almost seven years now, I have been blessed with the opportunity to use my skills for the common good and not for evil.

At the same time, I continued exploring a future in the ministry.  My new pastor took an interest in my journey, and she encouraged me to start taking classes with Lay Servant Ministries.  I never went into full-time ministry, but, through my journey of exploration, studying the Bible became a very important part of my life.  Learning about life and faith and sharing what I've learned with others gives me a sense of purpose when I don't find it in my job.


The photograph of the plant growing through the asphalt was taken by me at my grandmother's house.

Perspective: One Story, Three Writers, Many Lessons

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

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

One Story, Three Writers, Many Lessons

Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, "You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me."

Mark 10:21 (NRSV)

I wanna love because You loved

I wanna give because You gave

I wanna reach my hand out to the lost

'Cause I know Your hand can save

From "Only You Can Save" by Chris Sligh

I've read a certain Bible story three times over the last few months.

One day, a man approached Jesus and asked, "Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?"

"Why do you call me good?" Jesus responded.  "No one is good but God alone.  You know the commandments: 'You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; Honor your father and mother.'"

"I have kept all these since my youth," the man replied.

"You lack one thing," Jesus said.  "Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me."

When the man heard Jesus' words, he was saddened, because he owned many possessions.¹

This familiar story from the Gospels is a reminder of how easy it is to allow materialism to distract us from what truly matters in life.  When I say that I've read it three times recently, I mean that I've read three different versions of it.  This singular story is found in the New Testament three times.  Each version is slightly different from the others, because each writer brings a different perspective to the story.

The moniker commonly given to the man in the story - the "Rich Young Ruler" - is, in itself, a testament to the multiple versions of the story.  Luke is the only writer who explicitly describes the man as rich.  In the other versions of the story, we could infer that he is rich from the fact that he has many possessions, but we could also suppose that he is simply a middle-class person who owns a lot of stuff that keeps him preoccupied.  Matthew is the only writer who describes the man as young, and Luke is the only writer who identifies him as a ruler.

Luke is typically known for emphasizing Jesus' concern for the underprivileged in his Gospel.  Adam Hamilton refers to the Gospel of Luke as "The Gospel of the Nobodies."²  I think that maybe a concern for the underprivileged can lead a person to be extra critical of the privileged.  The man who approaches Jesus is vested with more privilege in Luke's version of the story than in either of the other two, for Luke places him in both the economic upper class and the ruling class.  Perhaps the Gospel of Luke could also be called the "Stick-It-to-the-Man Gospel."

Scholars generally agree that Matthew and Luke both used Mark's Gospel as a guide when they compiled their own.  In the past, I've praised St. Luke for his storytelling abilities, but, ironically, I find his version of the story of the Rich Young Ruler the least interesting.  In this case, Matthew actually did more to flesh out the story than Luke.

Matthew, in his version of the story, adds certain bits of dialogue that call to mind other themes found in his Gospel.  When Jesus lists five of the Ten Commandments for the rich man, he also includes what he will later identify as the second greatest commandment, the command to love one's neighbor as oneself.  Jesus claims that this commandment, along with the greatest commandment to love God with all one's heart, soul, and mind, forms the basis for all other commandments.³  The other five commandments Jesus lists all deal with the way we love other people.

Also, in Matthew's version of story, Jesus tells the rich man to sell his possessions and to give the proceeds to the poor if he wishes to be perfect.  This calls to mind Jesus' exhortation from Sermon on the Mount - which found earlier in the Gospel of Matthew - to "be perfect, as your heavenly father is perfect."  To be perfect is to love indiscriminately, in the same way that God "makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous."⁴  The rich man has done a decent job of keeping the Commandments thus far, but cultivating a love for the poor is perhaps the next step on his journey to perfection.

The version of the story I find most compelling is St. Mark's, which is thought to be the original.  Mark's telling of the story conveys certain emotions we do not see in either of the others, specifically the rich man's reverence for Jesus and Jesus' affection for the rich man.  In this version, the rich man runs to Jesus and kneels before Him when asking his question.  Mark also takes care to note that Jesus says what He says to the rich man out of love for him.  Jesus loves the underprivileged, but it is important to also remember that He loves the privileged as well.  Out of love for the privileged, He challenges them to share His love for the underprivileged.

Many different lessons can be learned from a singular story.  So often, we approach the Bible looking for a single correct interpretation, but, if Mark, Matthew, and Luke employed their insight and and creativity when writing the Gospels, I think we are free to do the same when reading them.  Not all interpretations of Scripture are equally good, so, when reading the Bible, we must keep God's love in the forefront of our minds, as the Gospel writers did.  With God's love as our compass, we will not go off course.

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For other lessons I've mined from the story of the Rich Young Ruler, check out my perspective "The Cost of a Free Gift" and my sermon "The Measure of Success."


Notes:

1. This is based on Matthew 19:16-22, Mark 10:17-22, and Luke 18:18-23.  In my telling of the story, I tried to omit anything that is unique to any single version of the story.  Quotations are taken from the New Revised Standard Version.
2. http://www.cor.org/content/gospel-nobodies
3. Matthew 22:34-40
4. Matthew 5:43-48 (NRSV)

Christ and the Rich Young Ruler was painted by Heinrich Hofmann in 1889.