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This blog is mostly about my walk with God, my journey toward a deeper relationship with Him. Today, I’m pausing to spend a few moments on a soapbox.
According to the most recent Harris Poll, only 26 percent of Americans think they will have bodies in Heaven. I ask you, what in the world does that have to do with anything? I mean, really, is it important or relevant whether we have bodies in Heaven or whether the majority of us believe we’ll have bodies in Heaven? This was just one of several things in a recent Newsweek article that rubbed me the wrong way. Here’s the link. So read it and tell me what you think.
http://www.newsweek.com/id/235418?GT1=43002
Evidently, Newsweek staffer Lisa Miller has a new book out called Heaven: Our Enduring Fascination With the Afterlife. In her article, which promoted her book (different issue for another day), Miller also quotes research showing that the number of Americans who believe in the resurrection is down 10 points to 70 percent, while those who believe in reincarnation is on the rise at 30 percent. She states that 21 percent of Christians believe in reincarnation.
Miller also says, “Resurrection may be unbelievable, but belief in a traditional heaven requires it.”
Really? Resurrection is unbelievable. But Heaven is totally explainable and rational and as easy to prove as saying the sky is blue? Resurrection. Reincarnation. Heaven. Any belief you have in a higher being. You can’t prove ANY of it. None of it is “believable” in terms of the reality we all live in day-to-day. Later in her article, Miller discounts those who fall back on the “intellectual flabbiness” of the “theological cop-out” that says “We cannot know what God has in store for us.” If we could solve for Heaven and the afterlife with a mathematical equation or a scientific explanation, we wouldn’t need faith, now would we? I’m not sure why people feel the need to assault specific elements of the Christian story when the entire point of any religion is faith. Not empirical knowledge or undisputed fact.
Hard to say why this wound me so tightly, but I must say that I got fired up after reading this article. Given this reaction, you probably think I’m going to ask you not to buy this book. On the contrary. I’ll likely buy it myself. I’m curious to more deeply understand where she’s coming from and exactly what view she’s promoting. I could be jumping to conclusions. Not likely, based on the article. But possible.
So, anyway, the number of Americans who truly believe is on the decline. That much seems to be a mathematical certainty based on the research. It wouldn’t hurt for us to stop and ask why. I think it is very important as Christians to delve into the cause and effect there. Meanwhile, I have no interest or curiosity around the whole body in Heaven thing. And I have no patience for people who want to propose that the resurrection is unbelievable. If you want to challenge something, step up and challenge the idea of God Himself. Take that one on. Because if it’s no great stretch to believe in a Higher Being who created the world from scratch, how is it so “unbelievable” that He could send his Son to earth and raise Him from the dead? As for not knowing what God has for us. Yes, this is true. TRUE. Not flabby logic or a cop out. And as Christians, it is a fact we have to embrace and accept. We don’t know exactly what lies ahead. But once again, if we did, faith would not be the necessity that it is.
So there you go. Soapbox over and out. Back to the journey. And in case I don’t post again between now and then…Happy Easter to all!
Give privately. Receive publicly. I don’t know about you, but I could not be more backwards about this if I tried.
We do our real business with God in the backroom. We unpack our bags and get real. With no witnesses. No one to see the grace and the mercy and the impact. In public, we suit up and serve. We make grand gestures. We make sure to be seen sowing. Actually, I should use the pronoun “I” and let others decide whether this fits them as well. Sorry to project.
A while back I heard a sermon on giving in which the presenter emphasized that we are called to give anonymously. That we should not draw attention to ourselves in service. (Give privately)
Meanwhile, I’ve seen people with very public struggles who have not only turned their lives around but also positively influenced others in the process and served as glowing endorsements of what our God is all about. (Receive publicly)
There is a parable in Luke 8:26-39 about a man possessed by demons. He approaches Jesus in a crowd, desperate to be healed. Jesus obliges, driving the demons out of him and into a herd of swine who run downhill into a pond and drown.
A few interesting things about this story (other than pigs running downhill into a pond to drown). 1. His plea for help was a public one. (As is the case in many parables like this one). 2. The people who witnessed the feat were also greatly impacted. They immediately ran to tell others what they had seen. 3. The people they told came to see for themselves, but they reacted with fear, and that fear was contagious. The entire region asked Jesus to leave because of this fear. 4. Jesus responded by instructing the man to go back to his home and tell of the miracle. He did so, proclaiming to the whole city what Jesus had done.
Quick question. What if he had approached Jesus in private, one on one with no witnesses? And what if he then kept the miracle of his healing to himself and didn’t share it with the world?
I believe there are two basic challenges that heavily contribute to the flip-flop that I’ve been experiencing.
The first challenge I see is that most churches emphasize service at the expense of personal growth. When the main statistic to judge success is the number of “professions of faith” then I think we miss a big, big part of it. Is it important to reach more people with the Gospel and to lead more people to Christ? Is it important to serve and to give and to do good? I’d have a hard time saying no, obviously. But what I’ve come to realize more deeply is that our primary purpose on this earth is to be in relationship with God, to honor and worship Him, to simply be with Him. The rest of His plan will unfold from there. But it is easy for us to experience guilt when we feel compelled to spend time working on ourselves. Sorry, I’m doing it again. It’s easy for “me” to experience guilt.
The second challenge I see is that most Christians are like me. They are driving in reverse. Receiving privately. Giving publicly. They get overly concerned about damaging their witness, and forsake opportunities to be real, open, transparent and yes, flawed, when interacting with others. They seek redemption in the privacy of their own homes, but stand tall in public, demonstrating the good they are contributing. The best role models are not beautiful. They are broken. Just like the man with the demons inside, the power lies in witnessing the grace and goodness of God.
No wonder fear is such a common emotion for us, just like the people in the parable. When we see this in action, or think about doing it ourselves, we freak out. We are afraid. We don’t know how to respond. It’s just too weird and uncomfortable. This man, and his approach, should be the rule, not the exception.
I will be honest. This is one of the biggest struggles I have. It scares me to death to put my flaws out on display, to truly open up and be me (good, bad, ugly). So, I’ll be up front and say that I am definitely not practicing what I’m preaching. Yet. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get it. I do. So now all I need is a herd of pigs, a pond and a little bravery.
Why do Christians love to debate theology? Whey do we get so hung up on differences in philosophy, belief and approach? I feel safe saying that most Christians, and Christian institutions, have pretty much the same core set of beliefs and values. Instead of focusing on those core beliefs, we spend way too much time fighting battles on the fringes, debating in the gray areas, getting hung up on differences in opinion and interpretation.
I had the opportunity recently to spend some extended time with a group of highly passionate Christians. Over the course of two days, I witnessed debates on whether a poster was art or pornography and whether meditation was good or evil, among other things. It seemed that everyone had formed a deeply rooted system of beliefs and perspectives, and as a result, they had trouble keeping their minds open to other points of view. Unfortunately, I think we do that a lot as Christians. The challenge is that we can quickly slide into legalism and judgement and alienate people who aren’t ready or able to adhere to the same set of values that we have. The real problem is that in most cases, it’s not central theology at the heart of the debate. It’s on the fringes. I believe God provided us with a multitude of options in this world to do life and to be in relationship with Him. I also believe that while the Bible is very clear on the core beliefs we are to have as Christians, it holds quite a bit of gray on a host of other topics. Just because we have settled on one of the translations for some of these gray matters doesn’t mean we are right and all others are wrong.
I recently stumbled upon an interesting book in the bargain bin at the bookstore. Self-proclaimed agnostic author AJ Jacobs wrote The Year of Living Biblically: One Man’s Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible a few years ago. In it, he journaled about his quest to follow each and every instruction in the Bible for a full year. I haven’t read the book, only the jacket. I’m sure parts are funny and parts are offensive. I didn’t buy it to find out.
But it did get me thinking. Is that what most people view it to be like? You receive a Bible, and then you have to try to literally abide by all the rules within it? That isn’t very inviting, and it’s not very realistic either. It’s not attractive or attainable. Or appropriate if you ask me. I would encourage us all to open our minds a bit and to be more accepting of differing opinions and approaches to issues that are outside the core. Baskin Robins serves 31 flavors of ice cream. But it’s all ice cream, with a consistent core. Most of them are deliciously different from one another. That’s how we should look at living a holy life. There is a base, a common set of elements that make you a Christian. And then there’s the rest of it. I’m just not so sure it’s smart for us to deeply form opinions on the fringes and allow that to dictate both the way we live as well as the way we view other people.
It’s a common picture. A young boy playing baseball. Stuck out in right field. Busy picking grass or watching bugs crawl while the game flies around him. Eventually, maybe even a ball comes his way, only to roll right by as he kicks dirt and blows bubbles with his gum. Oblivious. If his attitude and aptitude don’t change, he will find himself riding the ole pine come little league.
I wasn’t going to write a blog post today. I also wasn’t going to read my Bible today. But after I couldn’t find the book I was looking for, a search that ensued after my wife and I couldn’t find anything to watch on television, I ended up in Isaiah again. Insight was shared, even though I was looking to be distracted, not discipled.
54:2 – Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes. For you will spread out to the right and to the left; your descendants will dispossess nations and settle in their desolate cities.
This was very exciting to read, because lately it feels as if every scripture I approach tells me of something else I need to combat or address, some obstacle I need to remove. It was as if God was saying, “Ok, kid, get ready to go back in the game.” I love sports. What I love more is a good sports analogy. To carry this one forward, I have been on the bench for a long time. So long that I have splinters in places where splinters are extra painful. I was beginning to think I’d never get back on the field. I had even started to get fuzzy on the rules of the game, even the reason you play the game.
So, to hear Coach tell me, prepare yourself, enlarge your tent, get ready, I immediately got pumped. I almost ran out of the dugout and onto the field before realizing that He hadn’t given me specific instructions just yet. What position I was playing. So, I curbed my enthusiasm for a moment. And now will do so with the analogy. It’s worked hard enough. But it was a good one, right?
I continued reading in Isaiah, and a few chapters later, Coach was back. (sorry, I really will bench this analogy soon).
58:7 – 10 – Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter, when you see the naked to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn…Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and He will say: Here am I…your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday.
I think I’ve been waiting for some big theme, a cause to rally around, some way of organizing my activity. But God is saying, “You could just start by opening your eyes to the immediate opportunities I present to you and go from there.” Novel concept. I’ve been too busy looking deep inside to find some complicated purpose with blinders on to the world around me. It may very well be that God has a cause for me, a theme, but I need to start by responding to the immediate needs He identifies, and He will reward my faithfulness by shining light where there once was only darkness. Back to the analogy for just a bit longer, it’s just like being the visiting team in baseball. You have to catch what’s hit to you before you can step up to the plate to hit a home run. (Man, I’m even getting tired of it now.)
The most significant part about this revelation for me is that it came from the very chapter that started it all. Way back when I began this journey, the first passage I read, the one that reminded me God is not a drive thru, was Isaiah 58: 1-6. If only I had kept reading for a few verses, I could have skipped right to the thick of things instead of circling the drain for 18 months. The funny thing is that at the time of reading the first part of this chapter, I was miles away from being able to appreciate the last half of it, despite the proximity of the verses. And despite the now glaringly simple message being delivered.
The tent is now open as wide as I can pull it. And I’m happy to be back in the game. I can’t wait for a ball to be hit my way now, because I’m ready. I’m in position. I’m alert. And I’m going to catch it.
We all have people we look up to, role models if you will. This can be a good thing, and a bad thing. Modeling the healthy behaviors of others provides an example, a path for us to accomplish similar positive things. Modeling can be a risk, because of the human element. Corporate sponsors spend billions banking on, or creating, role models for today’s youth. Tiger Woods. And in some cases, they make big time mistakes that can negatively impact the images of their companies, not to mention the psyches of today’s youth. Tiger Woods.
I have two goals related to role models. First, I am going to work on how I respond to the success of others so that I can be positively inspired at all. Secondly, I am committing to doing a better job in choosing who I allow to inspire and motivate me.
The How
It’s hard for me to hear stories of great success, personally, professionally, spiritually, without at least a hint of envy. I’ve made no secret that I want clarity in the purpose God has for me, and that I want to do something that will impact his kingdom. And that my delusions of grandeur are never far from reach. As a result, I usually do one of two things when I hear or witness someone being successful. Neither is healthy or positive. One reaction is envy. I long for a story like theirs, to have my purpose clearly expressed for me and to have successfully produced something related to it. I get down because I don’t see the same fulfilled purpose in my life. And it’s frustrating, because it’s not just everyday people stories that do this to me. It’s the “This Week on Oprah” or the “New York Times Best Seller List” or the “Hi, I’m the Best Athlete Ever to Play My Sport” stories. It’s the “Underdog Overcoming Great Odds or the “Gained Success Far Beyond My Years” and such. Why can’t I have that? Better question for reflection: Why do I need that so badly?
The second thing I will do upon hearing about success is compare. Given the struggles I’ve already expounded upon, I need to know how I stack up. If I can’t compare, I can’t win, and if I can’t win…well, anyway. Everything shouldn’t be a competition, but sometimes for me it always is. I’ll set my sights on someone or something that becomes a benchmark. And I will hold myself to that expectation, to surpass that benchmark.
I hereby declare that I will do everything in my power to celebrate the success of others, to learn from it, to let it grow who I am. Not to let it deflate me or discourage me by forcing me to reflect on what I think I may or may not have accomplished.
I was headed to my computer to write this, to put it down and to, as I like to say, “book it” when my wife sidetracked me with a story from the conference she just attended. One of the keynotes had a very inspiring story, and she was still moved by it some two days since hearing it. In a soundbite, he went from being abandoned in a trailer in Virginia by a drug addict mother to touring several countries and continents for Nike as the Executive Director of Play and changing the lives of kids in all corners of the world. It was an amazing story. I was standing there listening, knowing I was on my way to write this post, and challenging myself, trying to audit my honest, knee jerk reaction to his story. I struggled a bit, but I was able to appreciate it for its own merit. I admit, there was a tinge inside, of wanting to have a similar story to tell. Obviously I have not had to rise up from such long odds, but I twist that in my own mind to beat myself up and say I have even less excuse not to have accomplished something “great” already. I was humbled by how quickly God did a “price check” on what I was selling, just to help me see whether I was serious or not.
The Who
My second problem is who I’m looking to for modeling. Since I am a driven person, with yardsticks and benchmarks and all the works. I usually look toward people who have a best-selling book or a rags to riches story or some phenomenal rise to star status. This puts unbelievable pressure on me, at least on a subconscious level, to validate my worth. It also does absolutely nothing for strengthening my walk with Christ. It automatically skews my perspective so that I disregard and dismiss anything that doesn’t seem like the next big thing. Making it improbable if not impossible for God to successfully share my purpose with me.
Moving forward, I am striving to look not toward people who are renowned and famous and shiny, but toward those people who are broken, honest and humbly following the call of God. People who are open with who they are, who let their wear and tear show, who aren’t ashamed of where they’ve come up short and aren’t offended by where others have come up short. Of course there is overlap with the happy, shiny people. Many times a broken person will rise from it and use the very thing they’ve always struggled with as their way to make a positive difference in the world. So I’m not saying fame, and or fortune, will strike you from my most admired list moving forward.
My oldest son has a stuffed animal (woof woof, not making a barking sound, that’s the dog’s name), who goes everywhere with him. It’s his favorite toy. It’s dirty, beat up, torn, all but broken. In fact, I think it only has half a dozen “beanies” left in it, so maybe you could technically say it is broken. It means more to him than 100 shiny versions of it. It means more than bigger, cooler, newer versions of it. Its imperfections make it perfect. Those have been broken, who have allowed God to repair them and make them whole, and then who have been unselfish enough to allow the world to bear witness on it, those people are beautiful because of their brokenness. I think we all should long for that type of healing, that type of genuine relationship with God and with others. I know I do. That being said, we should look to others who are accomplishing it as a source of inspiration and motivation.
I poked some fun at Tiger earlier. I must apologize. Depending on how he approaches his life moving forward he could be both a bad AND a good example of a role model. Just like every other human being walking the earth. Corporations and the general public are going to be less likely to look forgive and forget, because he’s not quite as “shiny” as he used to be. But he still has the potential to produce beauty from this brokenness. Just like every other human being walking the earth. Ah, the power of redemption.
When I started writing this blog, it was mostly just an exercise of documentation. I was carrying around a jumbled mess of paper, handwritten notes, scribbles, tucked in a manilla folder. Trying not to forget any of the insights being shared with me along the way. It was growing harder and harder to read my own handwriting or to understand what I meant when I wrote it down in the first place. So, knowing that a blog would be a nice and easy way to organize my thoughts and track my progress, I started moving all those scattered thoughts into a new and improved online home.
The blog has also helped me organize my thoughts and connect some dots. Along the way, having separate thoughts and ideas merge and mingle with one another has created deeper understanding.
Today, the blog will begin to do an even more critical job: hold me accountable. I just pressed send on an email to a small but mighty group of acquaintances. I’m not asking anyone to read this blog frequently. You don’t have to for it to do its job. Just knowing that you might check in here and there will hopefully be enough motivation to keep me logging on and continuing this path. And I know enough about myself to know that I need that accountability.
And finally, eventually, maybe someone out there will benefit from a simple lesson or two that I’ve learned along the way. Wouldn’t that be something?
Just as recently as last week, I was struggling with whether to push this blog out to people, go out on a limb, be vulnerable, or simply keep it to myself and continue my journey under the radar. I almost asked my wife what to do, but I’ve too often turned to her for answers to questions I should have aimed at God, so I fought the temptation. And I asked God instead. He responded during the church service I attended later in the morning.
We were dissecting the Lord’s Prayer and about halfway through the pastor referenced a passage in Isiah 58, starting in verse 6. It calls for us to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to serve those in need and we will be rewarded fully. He challenged the audience to ask the question,
“Do I have something in my soul worth offering, something that would bless someone in need?”
Good enough for me. I guess we’ll see what the answer is soon enough.
It’s one of those books that everybody’s talking about. So, if you are a writer, or alive for that matter, you risk being a pop culture outcast if you haven’t read it. So, I picked up what was being tagged as a dramatic and inspiring piece of work, “The Last Lecture” by Randy Pausch. Several people specifically recommended it to me, saying that I would love it. That I had to read it. So I finally broke down and grabbed a copy. Only halfway into the book, I put it down for good. I didn’t like Randy. Couldn’t stand him. Thought he was a conceited, self-interested, selfish man who chose leaving a legacy behind instead of spending his last days with his family. Then I paused. Wow, what a cynical reaction to something that usually brings tears to readers!
I quickly realized why I had such a visceral reaction to Randy’s story. He was just like me. As I mentioned in an earlier post, if I’m not careful my natural desire to be a successful, published author, to achieve my own 15 minutes of fame (or hey, 30 if I’m lucky, right?) will take over and drive my decisions, overtake my passion, steer my heart. I’m not suggesting, necessarily, that Randy’s motivation during his final days was wrong or misguided, only that in him I saw something about myself that I didn’t like at all. It was a wake up call that if I spend too much time focused on the footprint I leave behind, I will have neglected the path I took to get there and the example I set along the way.
the way to (t)here 
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