Tuesdays are for smiling!
I read this, here and it made me smile. The human body is amazing. Why did reading this trigger something in me that transformed my often somber, melancholy, monotonous, personality into one that had a co-worker exclaim as she passed by my door, “What are you smiling about?”
I hope it makes you smile too? I think I might try to post something every Tuesday just to make you smile. Smiles can be significant openings to sharing Jesus, the author and creator of the smile.
I am constantly puzzled by “Fifth Third Bank.” Are they fifth? Are they third? I feel like their name should be written on a blackboard at MIT and solved by a janitor who has a heart of gold but just can’t seem to break out of his bad habits without the help of a bearded therapist. And churches are no stranger to this approach either, as evidenced by the abundance of “First Baptist” or “First Presbyterian” you see. I hope we never see one called, “4th Baptist Church of Denton, 1st Awesome One.”
See what I mean?
Empathy or Apathy? – featuring Bob Goff
When we see the sin of others we have a choice. We can empathize with their need for a Savior, or, out of apathy, we can ostracize them according to their need for a Savior. I think Jesus would want us to empathize with one’s need for a Savior. It doesn’t mean we say to the abusive alcoholic that it is permissible to keep drinking and abusing, but we try to enter into the mess of their lives pointing out their need for Jesus. We don’t overlook the glutton who has a significant weight problem, but we lovingly point out that Twinkies should be left off of the shopping list for a while and that their weight problem is really a food problem which is a sin problem from which Jesus promises to free us.
The reason we do not like to step into the mess of someone’s life is because it is far less painful, less complicated, less emotional, less sacrificial if we just say, “When you follow Jesus you must abide by the policy “No Sex Outside of Marriage” and because you are not abiding by that policy you are going to Hell.” The reason we don’t enter into the sewer is that we have a faith problem. We have failed to remember from what we were saved, and fail to recall for what we are saved. We, the Church, have done a poor job of allowing others to see us tell our story to others, and we have failed to teach Jesus’ people the importance of remembering and telling their own story. So, many of us forget just how wretched we were, and refuse to confront just how wretched we still are.
I think Jesus would have us dig deep into the reasons of why Jane feels like she needs to sleep around with other women, and then seek to usher her into the presence of Christ who in turn can free her from her addiction to a broken way of living. But we just don’t have time for that do we? It’s better to just point to a couple of verses about homosexuality being a sin and tell them to turn or burn. It’s short and to the point, right. I mean who wants to befriend a kleptomaniac and try to walk with them for a lifetime in hopes that one day a trip to Old Navy doesn’t result in a trip to the police station? We want results, we want them now, turn or burn is all we have time for especially if we are going to be successful in leading the masses to be slaves to Jesus.
Bob Goff has some tremendous insight on this. Take a moment and read his thoughts.
What Are the Words to Your Song?
Posted by Bob Goff
I once listened to a Taylor Swift song called “Love Story” on a flight all the way from the East Coast to the West Coast. I had the song on repeat on my ipod for some reason and as soon as it finished, it would automatically start once again. If you want to know how many times I heard that song, divide 3 minutes and 55 seconds by North America. Even though I had heard the words sung over and over, you know what? I can’t remember more than a few isolated lyrics.
I remember that it’s about a guy named Romeo and I’m not quite sure who the girl is. I’m guessing it’s Taylor; but that’s just a guess. I think that they had to overcome some adversity because the girls’ dad wasn’t keen on young Romeo. As a dad, I can respect that. But at the end of the day, I remember the song says something about “go get your white dress”… so I assume that they sorted it all out and the guy got the girl.
I don’t remember much about Taylor’s love story even though I’ve heard the song about it over a hundred times. I’ve wondered why, by contrast, we can each remember every nuance; every glance; and if we’ve fallen in love, our entire courtship story with such punishing detail. Forget the first kiss; just think about the first time you touched knees with someone you liked a lot. Yet I can hear Taylor Swift sing about her story all the way across North America, and it has no shelf life for me. It’s like her words are made of Teflon.
Not so with our own love story though. Every detail comes alive. I suppose that’s a reflection of the factory settings that we each have. Our own love stories are so poignant, so detailed, no nuanced, so unforgettable – at least to us. When it’s someone else’s love story however, we will be polite and listen, but usually it’s entirely forgettable. It’s kind of like looking at someone else’s vacation pictures in that way.
That’s how Taylor Swift’s song was to me. It wasn’t my movie, so I just settled in and listened to the banjo playing in the background as the words floated past unnoticed and unremarkable. When we can relate to a story in some way though, it becomes part of us; in other words, it matters to us. And I want more things to matter to me. Do you know why? Because things that matter to us, shape us; things that don’t matter to us as just more banjo music.
I have often wondered why the things that are talked about at bible studies I’ve been at never really stuck with me. I used to spend a lot of time shaking my head in agreement on Wednesday nights, but just because I agreed didn’t mean that I remembered. In fact, most of the time, it seemed that the nod of agreement shook whatever was said right out. I wanted to remember; I wanted what was said to matter, but like Taylor’s song, it didn’t – at least not enough. But that all changed when I started engaging my faith; when I started doing stuff. It was then that I stopped humming along to someone else’s song and started writing my own.
What I found is that when something matters to me and I have skin in the game; then I become engaged. And when I’m engaged, I remember. Some people think of engagement as the time between proposing marriage to someone and getting married. I think of engagement as the time between when we stop just agreeing and being polite and when we do something about it.
Another byproduct of engagement is that all of the canned answers to complex questions seem to melt away. I think that’s because we see ourselves in the context of something larger that is unfolding; and the details aren’t distractions, they are ladder rungs that we can pull ourselves up on. We remember because we are no longer observers. I think that Jesus had in mind that we would not just be “believers”, but “participants”. Not because it’s hip, but because it’s accurate. He wanted people that got to the “do” part of faith; not because He wanted activity, but because He wanted our faith to matter to us.
One of the ways that I make things matter to me is to move from merely learning about something to finding a way to engage it on my own terms. For example, if someone asks what I think about capital punishment, instead of reciting the party line and parroting someone else’s thoughts, I think of a teenager named Kevin in a prison accused of a capital crime. If the topic is same sex attraction, I think of a dear friend who is gay. Now, instead of talking about an issue, I’m talking about a person; someone who matters to me. I think that Jesus wired us that way so that we’d remember. And it’s not about just being politically correct, it’s about being just plain correct. We need to make our faith; our love story; our very own.
One last thought. Our own songs matter a great deal; each lyric and each refrain. But if we don’t get ours right, we can’t hear anyone else’s song. One of the things that can make us tone deaf to the lyrics of other people’s songs is having our own song either playing too loudly or skipping across the disk – not playing at all. This doesn’t mean that we should engage in endless and paralyzing personal introspection, but we need to settle down and figure out what our own song so that we can help others find thiers.
Maybe you can’t remember the words to Taylor’s song either, but what is it that helps you remember the things that are most important in your own faith?
What is it that helps you remember the things that are most important in your own faith? When is the last time you tried to remember those pivotal moments in your own story of Redemption?
Lessons From San Quentin
In light of my sermon this past weekend at Harmony Christian I thought this Post By Jud Wilhite, pastor of Central Christian Church in Las Vegas, @ POTSC was appropriate. Coming to peace with your circumstances is another way of saying, “I’ve traded puzzles.”
I’m enjoying a book by Bill Dallas on second chances called Lessons from San Quentin. At one point he asked a veteran prison guard what would happen if an earthquake hit and all the walls crumbled.
The guard said, “Every short-timer in here would run for the hills like there is no tomorrow…. Death row guys would be shufflin’ out of the gates in their ankle restraints as fast as they could…. And the Lifers who have made peace with themselves would stay right here. They wouldn’t run. In fact, I’d bet that most of them would immediately search through the rubble to help the injured. They know they‘ll leave this place when their time is up. They’ll walk out the front door with dignity.”
I love how he says the Lifers have made peace with themselves. These are second chance people. And after spending years in San Quentin himself, Dallas makes a point that the short-timers are often so focused on getting out, and on what they hate about their surroundings, that they don’t really experience change from the brokenness. But the Lifers are broken by it. In San Quentin they become the life-givers, encouraging others, caring about others and many experiencing transformation through a relationship with God.
How about me? Am I allowing my own struggles to drive me to God to see his transformation and grace? Or, am I so focused on getting through it and blaming others that I receive no real benefit from the experience? How about you?