The 90/10 Problem

There are many things in this world that make me angry. There many things that should and often do incite a righteous indignation in me. However, there is nothing that makes me more irate than when my cats wake me up moments before my alarm is to go off. I’m serious. If WMDs were stored on my nightstand I tremble at how I might respond in the moment. There is many a morning that finds me still seething as I drive myself to work yearning for the morning that I can evict my feline aggressors and sleep until my heart’s content. I, like many people, find myself longing for the weekend. To do so on Friday is one thing, but when it’s Tuesday morning…

I find that this yearning for a weekend’s respite is hardly a remote behavior. I am surely not alone. I hear the desire from my coworkers and friends as well. ‘Only two more days.’ ‘Only six more hours.’

We spend 90% of our time wishing we were living in the other 10%.

Something is wrong with the way we are viewing work.

Before I go on I want to say a few things.

1     I understand that I speak from a position of privilege living in a society in which I even get days off. Still, I believe that we all need to reevaluate how we consider our vocations.

2     Part of the curse delivered to Adam and all his kind (us) ensures that our work will always be just that--- work.

With those caveats out of the way, let me continue.

Something is wrong with the way we are viewing work. We operate under the faulty assumption that if we could only get that job; if we could only win the lottery; if we could only marry that person who would allow us to stay home, then our lives would be infinitely better. Even the best of us spend many of our working hours fantasizing about what we’ll be doing come five o’clock Friday. If you are a bit more controlling like me, you make lists of what you’ll do when you get the time. Much of the time, I don’t even have anything in particular to do on the weekend yet still I yearn for it. Is this really the way that the Lord wants us to live? Constantly desiring some future event while despising the present? Creating idols out of weekends and time off as if they were the day of glory? Surely not.

As I was considering my own conflicted desires, I fell upon three ways we should change our views about work.

Vocation as service

We know that Paul tells his readers (specifically slaves and indentured servants) that “whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as if working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” Zealous believers throughout history have noted the value of manual labor and vocation as an opportunity to serve the Lord. If our focus is on the Lord, every act, every muscle we move, and every word we type can be a service rendered to the Lord. So often we are blinded to this by the stress of expectations or our own grumbling. One way we can alter our course in regards to work is to actively seek to serve the Lord with every action, every movement, and every thought.

Vocation as mission

Our identity as Christians is a bit of a misnomer. We are not simply humans who happen to follow Jesus. We do not add “Christian” to our identification and then progress as before, reaping paltry consolation from God. As new creations in Christ we are not only given new life, we are also given a new mission. The two are inexorably linked. There is no option in which the two are separate. If we are born again in Christ Jesus, we ARE on mission for Him.

Jesus, of course, made this evidently clear in His instructions to His disciples (of which we are included): “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

We know these words. We have memorized these words, but we all know that there are many days (the majority of days?) in which we consider our jobs to be a necessary evil removed from the scope of our Christian identity. However, how would we view our work differently if we truly took to heart Jesus’ command? If instead of just ‘making it through’ the workday we viewed our time at work as a limited opportunity to speak into the lives of those with whom we interact?

For a short period in my life I was able to have a job without the need for the finances it provided. (Please, stifle your groans for a moment). During this time, the sole reason for my employment was to influence my coworkers toward Christ. The two and a half months I worked at that McDonald’s, I knew what I was there for. I surely had days in which investing in my fellow workers was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew why I was employed. In the years since, as the responsibilities and bills have mounted, I have occasionally returned to that time and the clarity in which I saw the situation.

If we truly believe that the Lord will provide for us, what is keeping us from embracing this clarity? If we truly saw our time at work as a limited resource and the time with our coworkers as slivers of eternity, how might it change the way we approach the days?

Vocation as practice

There is a discipline that comes with completing a task. There are moments in which we see clearly that we do not possess the necessary strength/wisdom/intelligence to complete our tasks. These moments of humility (should) drive us close to the Source of all gifts. In this way, vocation can be an opportunity to practice the faith we so often preach. The heat of the moment is when our faith is tested. It is under trial that the fruits of the Spirit will be manifested. In the ebb and flow of the workday we are met with innumerable opportunities to give in to anxiety and sin or, conversely, draw near to the Lord.

A man who knew the potential for such situations was Brother Lawrence, a 17^th century Carmelite monk (born Nicholas Herman). Early in his life, Brother Lawrence was stricken with doubt and uncertainty about his spiritual state. This uncertainty led him to enter a monastery. There he was often tasked with monotonous kitchen duty. Yet it was during this service that Brother Lawrence came to develop a deep and profound understanding of how to draw near to the Lord in all situations. 

He confidently spoke from personal conviction of the need to maintain an open dialogue with the Lord throughout the day. He learned that even the lowliest task had the potential to draw him closer to Christ. “Nor is it needful that we should have great things to do… We can do little things for God; I turn the cake that is frying on the pan for love of Him, and that done, if there is nothing else to call me, I prostrate myself in worship before Him, who has given me the grace to work; afterwards I rise happier than a king. It is enough for me to pick up but a straw from the ground for the love of God.”

Through a friend, he advised: “Whatever we do, even if we are reading the Word or praying, we should stop for a few minutes—as often as possible—to praise God from the depths of our hearts, to enjoy Him there in secret. Since we believe that God is always with us, no matter what we may be doing, why shouldn’t we stop for awhile to adore Him to praise Him, to petition Him to offer Him our hearts, and to thank Him?”

How might such an understanding of the nearness of God change our attitude at work? Perhaps we might cease to view the workday as oppression to endure and instead view it as the means by which we might commune with the Lord and be transformed into His likeness.

In all these ways we can seek to transform a time of potential drudgery into moments of vivid and profound growth in our sanctification. Let us all prayerfully consider the motivations and attitudes as we serve our Lord here on earth.

In the Absence of Words: Embarking on a Journey

For the last few months I’ve been thinking about prayer and Scripture. See, I enjoy teaching the Bible. I enjoy asking questions and proposing applications. I’ve been doing this in student ministry for nearly ten years and I have learned the gifts I have and the things that I don’t do well. I’m pretty regular with my own reading of the Bible (I don’t say this with any pride) but I’ve always been a little reticent when it comes to prayer, especially spoken prayer. Throughout the month of January, my church has been going through a study on prayer. None of it was especially revelatory if I’m honest, but it got me thinking: am I just learning about prayer or am I doing it? Is the knowledge I’m learning simply enabling me to teach others or is it actually affecting my behavior? These questions ran up against, and coalesced with some other thoughts I’ve been having about teaching others. A question emerged: Am I learning or am I experiencing?

So I made a course change. I dedicated myself to give up teaching for a month. In my Sunday school class we decided to focus entirely on reading the word aloud and to praying for the things that we always say we’ll pray for but never do. It is hard? Yeah. On day one, I had to fight back the tendency to fill the silence with my own observations. It is awkward at times? You bet. Are there weird silences? Absolutely. Perhaps though, the Lord will speak in the silence. Perhaps the Holy Spirit will move in the absence of exegesis. Perhaps we need to feel uncomfortable to ever be able to grow. I have no idea what the outcome of this course will be, but I figure that the world will benefit from less of me and more of the Lord.

Evil and the Radical Response Pt 3

This is part 3 of a 4 part essay. If you have missed the other parts, go back and read them first. It will make more sense that way (I hope).

Jesus’ Absurd Response

So if our response is not to be neither anger nor despair, then what should it be? I believe that if we revisit some familiar words of Jesus, we can find our answer. Gathered upon a hillside, Jesus laid out the heart of His kingdom. His sermon cut to the core of hypocrisy revealing the importance not of religious ritual but a redeemed heart. Motive, not mere repetition, is the defining characteristic of one’s faith, Jesus taught. He spoke to a mixed group of the committed and the curious. His audience was largely poor; though I’m sure some scribes and Pharisees inclined an ear to hear this new rabbi’s teachings. What was true of all was that they lived under Roman authority and had for the last 90 years. Their own ‘revolution’ story, the Maccabean revolt, was 200 years past (roughly as long ago as America’s) and had ended in eventual defeat. Though Rome afforded the Jewish ruling class a measure of autonomy, everyone knew that the governors and procurators held ultimate authority. The presence of Roman soldiers made sure of that. I say all that to say this: Jesus’ audience knew oppression. They know what it was like to be unjustly treated, by Rome and by their own people. The words He speaks are spoken (mainly) to the common man and the under-privileged; not to the powerful and wealthy.

You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’³⁹ But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. ⁴⁰ If anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, let him have your coat also. ⁴¹ Whoever forces you to go one mile, go with him two. ⁴² Give to him who asks of you, and do not turn away from him who wants to borrow from you.

⁴³ “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ ⁴⁴ But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ⁴⁵ so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. ⁴⁶ For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? ⁴⁷ If you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? ⁴⁸ Therefore you are to be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

Jesus begins each of His two thoughts here with maxims long-held by the rabbinical authorities. He uses them to show how the coming of Christ fulfills the Mosaic Law and shifts the center of religious understanding from a place of absolute justice to one of grace.

You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’³⁹ But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. 

Right out of the gate, Jesus confounds the way justice worked in 1^st century Palestine and in 21^st century America. Our entire world is built upon the notion that we deserve the right to pay our enemies back for the wrongs done to us. Contemporary (and classic) literature, music, and film exude this justice. But what does Jesus say? “Do not resist an evil person.” Jesus calls us to voluntarily give up our demand for justice. In fact, He goes on to call us to give our oppressor that which they don’t deserve or even require of us.

⁴⁰ If anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, let him have your coat also. ⁴¹ Whoever forces you to go one mile, go with him two. ⁴² Give to him who asks of you, and do not turn away from him who wants to borrow from you.

Jesus’ second quotation speaks to the motive behind these radical responses.

⁴³ “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ ⁴⁴ But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 

Not only does Jesus tell His audience not to seek retribution, He goes so far as to tell them to do the same to their enemy as they would their neighbor (which within the historical context meant a lot more than it does today). Instead of inspiring anger, grief, bitterness, or seeking retribution, Jesus intends prayer to be the response that characterizes His followers when they are oppressed. In fact, Jesus says that this very act will make one more like the Father in heaven. You are, Jesus tells His audience, to be the opposite of your enemies, responding to hatred with love, not with more hatred.

This is not an unfamiliar verse. This sermon does not lie hidden in the depths of some obscure biblical book such as Zephaniah or Jude. So why is Jesus’ teaching so rarely applied today? Why are Jesus’ commands to respond to evil with love, not more evil, something relegated to children’s Sunday school? Children’s Sunday school hits pretty close to the truth. “Turn the other cheek” is one of those platitudes we impart to our children but mostly neglect as adults.

First, I think we neglect the implications of the sermon because, frankly, it is hard. Our emotions get in the way. Our God-given desire for justice drives us in directions antithetical to Jesus’ teaching. We forget that “vengeance belongs to the Lord.” We have to fight back the feelings of anger when we have been wronged. Our natural desire is to strike back, to answer tooth for tooth ---- or worse. But we are not natural men and women anymore. We are new creations, created in God’s image for good works. How did Jesus respond when falsely accused? When tormented? When mocked? When murdered?

 ⁵ Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, ⁶ who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, ⁷ but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. ⁸ Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

The second reason I believe that we neglect the implications of Jesus’ teachings here are because we have other options available to us. Jesus’ first audience was the oppressed and subjugated. The Jews of Jesus’ day knew that they were a subjugated people. Their options for resisting authority were A) take it and be bitter, B) personal armed rebellion, or C) Jesus’ radical command to love one’s enemy. Most of us in the western world don’t have to incite an armed rebellion against our oppressors. We have more options. We can counter-sue the person abusing us, we can call the police, and we can call upon our nation to go to war. As citizens of privilege, we have more rights and avenues afforded to us. Yet, simply having the legal right to strike back legally or militarily against our enemies does not negate Jesus’ command to turn the other cheek and to love those who hate us. Having the option does not mean that we should use it.

Jesus’ command is radical. Jesus’ command is absurd. Jesus’ command is a relinquishment of the right to be hateful, bitter, and to revenge. It is antithetical to every gut-level notion of self. Yet this s what we see modeled in the life of Jesus Himself. Jesus the Christ relinquished His rights: His rights before men as an innocent man falsely accused, and His rights before the Father.

Jesus chose not to strike when He could have.

He chose to forgive when He could have chosen bitterness.

He chose to love those who hated and mocked Him.

These commands of Jesus are not mere words; they are displayed by the actions that cost Him His very life.

Evil and the Radical Response Pt 2

This is part 2 of a 4 part essay on our response to evil. If you didn't read the previous section go back and read that first.

Response #1

We long to see the Kingdom of the Lord revealed in its totality. We long for the day when anger, hatred, war and strife will be done away with. However in the absence of that we have a tendency to respond in a couple of ways. The first way we respond is with hatred.

Before I go on, I want to emphasize that I don’t want to speak too harshly about these responses because they are completely understandable and natural. However we who follow Jesus are no longer natural men and women, we are new creations and we must constantly strive to put on that new identity.

By saying that we respond with hatred my aim is not necessarily to condemn us. When someone attacks us or our interests it is often our first response to answer back in kind. When someone talks negatively about us at work, we want to defend ourselves and rattle off their faults and failings. When someone maligns our child our gut-level response is to come out with fists flying. Often, even when the attack or oppressor is more abstract and less direct, we find ourselves leaping to the worst possible solution or to broad generalities that don’t speak to the truth of the situation.

I find that this is the case with situations in which we can paint someone as an “other”. It becomes far easier to fight back against an unseen or nebulous opponent. Our responses don’t have to be tempered by the humanity of the adversary or the troubled situation they are coming from.

I encountered this one day while I was in college. Nearly all of us have this story. The story of “where you were”. I am of course speaking of where you were when you heard about the attack on 9/11. It was the second day of class of the year. I overheard several classmates discussing some nameless tragedy in class before the professor came and dismissed us all. Unknowing, I joined the body of students walking back to the dorms only to find the reality of the situation on the TV when I got back. For me, one of the most remarkable and chilling experiences came later that day though. Eventually, after a few hours, all classes were cancelled. It was the beginning of the semester and every student, resident and commuter alike, were on campus, just milling about. Nobody knew quite what to do. Everything was rumor back then. We didn’t have well-produced websites and Twitter accounts for terrorists to claim responsibility for their deeds so all we had was vague conjecture about ‘Middle-Eastern terrorists’. I moved throughout the mass of people near one of the main buildings on campus and listened to the collective voice of the people, excerpted from passing conversations. The consensus? “We’ve got to get them back.” “We to bomb them back to the stone age”. And for me, one of the starkest comments I heard was more personal in descriptive: “We’ve got mow them down.”

It is completely natural for us to feel hurt when we have indeed been hurt. Too often, though, we fly off without considering the gravity and complexity of the situation, let alone the human angle.

I find the case of Europe to be particularly enlightening right now. Due largely to the civil wars in Syria and Iraq, many young (18-25) European Muslims are flying down and joining the war in the Middle East. Many of these men and women come from stable, loving homes; from a religious upbringing that we would not consider radicalized. But the emptiness of the human condition and the brokenness of man leads the to paths of hatred and violence. But consider their parents, who never imagined that their children would be capable of such hatred and evil acts. What if they were our neighbors? Would we view the attackers differently? Would we be quicker to offer consolation; to offer grace?

Just a few thoughts.

Response #2

The second response we tend to have to evil and violence in the world is depression or at the very least thoughts of despair. Again, these thoughts are born out of a yearning for God’s peace and justice to reign over His creation. They rise from the desire to live in a just and equitable world free from the hateful and selfish demands of men and women who seek to control the world in which they live by controlling the lives of others. These thoughts of despair cut out the heart of joy that is to define the Christ-follower. They rob us of the freedom in which we are to live in the Spirit.

So often the nightly news bothers me so much that I am tempted to draw back and disconnect from this hateful (and hurting) world. We know that this should not be, but the momentary emotions of our hearts lead us to abandon hope for despair.

How are we to do as Paul commends us when the oppression of the evil one weighs so heavily upon us?

Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

We know these commands to be true but in our pain and in our bitterness we sink deeper into the despair of the worn and beaten down.

As we saw, Jesus knew what kind of lives He was calling His followers to. He intended them to be aware of the cost of such discipleship. He afforded nothing for their safety or prosperity. In fact the only promise He made was that they would have trouble.

Peter wrote to a group of people embroiled in such trouble; people scattered across the Roman Empire suffering for the faith that had been called to. To these stalwart saints facing persecution and death he wrote:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, (1 Peter 1:3a-6)

Peter comforts these embattled saints by reminding them of the power of the Lord in calling them to salvation. They, who were once not a part of God’s family, had been drawn in by the power of His grace not by any machination of Man. In light of their temporal and real sufferings Peter draws their gaze to their inheritance (the fulfillment of salvation) which cannot be destroyed by clubs, or bombs, or flame. He speaks of their hope as one which will never fade into obscurity or be halted by death. While the powers of this world have dominion enough to choke and starve; to torture and kill, they lack the power to even touch that which the Lord has protected. Their hand only reaches as far as the Lord will allow. It can never touch our inheritance as beloved sons and daughters of God. These are the words of encouragement Peter writes to those believers living through the fire of persecution.

Who are we to doubt the power of God? If the Lord was able to preserve those who faced death at the hands of an ungodly empire, who are we to doubt His power to preserve us in the face of temptation, harassment, ridicule, and indeed physical attacks?

The answer is obvious. Though the emotions often drown out the truth of Scripture, we must fight to cling to the very words of God which encourage us to trust not on our own understanding but upon Him. When evil and oppression lay siege to our soul we must always rely upon the Word of Truth.

Evil and the Radical Response Pt 1

I've been working on this for a few weeks. To aid in reading, I wanted to break it up into four parts. Here is part 1.

Peace and love have taken a beating lately. Aside from the daily frustrations and injustices, Islamic terrorists executed attacks in Paris and Nigeria. Beyond all that, governments around the world have basically admitted that similar attacks are inevitable. Wars and rumors of wars trend online and the nightly news brings us little comfort. Here in Michigan, a wintery oppression has dropped a canopy of gray upon the earth. Bitter winds have closed schools and driven all but the hardy (or the foolhardy) into their homes. Hope has been a far distant light obscured by a curtain of despair. Joy has been remarkably absent.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I find myself remarkably troubled by the evil and injustices of this world. A brief trip online (if that’s possible) leaves me dejected and despairing, both emotions that I know should not define my existence as a Christ-follower. Yet I find myself increasingly distressed by the ominous shadow cast over this planet.

The Problem

I know that I should not be surprised by the presence of evil in this world. Scripture recounts to us the degradation of humanity as far back as Noah’s time:

Now the earth was corrupt in the sight of God, and the earth was filled with violence. God looked on the earth, and behold, it was corrupt; for all flesh had corrupted their way upon the earth. (Genesis 6:11, 12)

My head knows that this is true, that I should not be surprised by the corrupted state of this world as if it were a new thing. There is nothing new under the sun and the evil acts of man are certainly no exception. Yet so often our hearts are troubled and left trembling and confused by the presence of evil. Many times we are tempted to doubt the goodness of God in light of the sinfulness of man.

As believers who were called out of evil and sinful lives, we often fall prey to the faulty assumption that our new life in Christ will be immune to the pervacious infection that plagues mankind. Of course we would never put it in such broad and expansive words but we react nonetheless when the hatred and evil rears its ugly head in our own lives. Someone hits our car and drives off without a note. A co-worker sets to passing hurtful gossip and opinions about us at work. Our Facebook and Twitter feeds are full of hateful and ungracious comments. I don’t know about you but I often recoil at those things and want to retreat into my own world (or in my case, into nature). These reactions only show that we harbor the roots of this faulty assumption about the expected affairs of the Christian.

Perhaps the first followers of Jesus had a similar expectation because Jesus took them aside to dispel such notions directly before He was to be betrayed by a corrupt and unjust justice system:

If the world hates you, you know that it has hated Me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, because of this the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you, “A slave is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you; (John 15:18-20a)

Jesus goes great lengths to make His disciples clear that they should not be expecting a rose-petal strewn path. Their fate was bound up in their Master’s, and so are ours. We should not expect the world to suddenly become a heavenly kingdom when it is populated by the lost and the lonely. The hurting population of this world yearns for reconciliation but in the absence of that, for distraction and power. The flesh craves lust and power and meaning from wherever it can be found. It should surprise none of us that those desperate desires would result in a swath of broken dreams, broken hearts, and (saddest of all) broken bodies.

When we are confronted by the harsh and bitter realities of a broken, fallen world we often have one of two responses.

When God Destroyed Me

There are plenty of times that I don’t feel qualified for doing student ministry (most times if I’m honest). The longer I stick around working with students the older I feel, the less I know, and the more things I realize that I’m not any good at. I’m not just talking about Instagram or Twitter but simple stuff, like retreat registrations and emails. Sometimes I marvel at all the ways that I don’t fit the job description that I would write for myself.

And then…

There are days like today. As I was running this evening (all my best thoughts come while running or hiking) I was overcome by the prayer requests of one of my students. There were so many similarities between this student’s story and mine. I ached in prayer for the Lord to move in and reveal truth and heal hurts. My body physically hurt (probably helped by the fact I hadn’t run in a few days) with emotion. It was as if my entire being was crying out in prayer (minus actual words).

And I was reminded of something from years ago…

I have always had a strong empathetic reflex. Even before I became a Christ-follower I would often be struck by severe pangs of pain, sorrow, and joy over the concerns of others. I remember one such encounter that left me ruined. I was at a Halloween party and a friend’s house (I didn’t have many friends). I didn’t know anyone at the party besides the host and so I awkwardly mingled my way around, upstairs, downstairs, outside. I watched as the other guests watched The Lost Boys in the basement and I felt an overwhelming, palpable darkness and despair. I had to leave the room. I made my way outside (it was somewhat warm for October) into the backyard. The host’s mother had a converted school bus out back. To this day I remember watching the adolescent lust as couple after couple circled off in the backyard to give away parts of themselves they would never get back. I briefly entered the bus to find the seats nearly full with other teens. I remember the darkness. My chest felt like it was caving in. I sat down beside the bus and sobbed silent tears. I felt destroyed at the brokenness and despair of the strangers who surrounded me.

Perhaps, God was preparing me. Perhaps He has designed this reaction in me to keep me from being judgmental or distant. Perhaps His desire is to break me to the point where all I can do is to cry out to Him in prayer.

Most often, that’s I can do.