“Aware of the Wicked, But Focused on the Good God”

Are you an optimist or a pessimist? Do you focus on the positive or the negative? The evil or the good?

Perhaps we should be biblical and focus on both. In fact, there is a psalm that, in just twelve verses, deals with both the wickedness of some people and the goodness of God—Psalm 36. I have been listening to and reading this psalm for the past week or so. The psalm may be short, but what it lacks in size, it more than makes up in depth and power. I plan to spend several days blogging about it. Here is the psalm in its entirety”

“Psa. 36:1        Transgression speaks to the wicked

                        deep in his heart;

             there is no fear of God

                        before his eyes.

2          For he flatters himself in his own eyes

                        that his iniquity cannot be found out and hated.

3          The words of his mouth are trouble and deceit;

                        he has ceased to act wisely and do good.

4          He plots trouble while on his bed;

                        he sets himself in a way that is not good;

                        he does not reject evil.

Psa. 36:5         Your steadfast love, O LORD, extends to the heavens,

                        your faithfulness to the clouds.

6          Your righteousness is like the mountains of God;

                        your judgments are like the great deep;

                        man and beast you save, O LORD.

Psa. 36:7         How precious is your steadfast love, O God!

                        The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.

8          They feast on the abundance of your house,

                        and you give them drink from the river of your delights.

9          For with you is the fountain of life;

                        in your light do we see light.

Psa. 36:10       Oh, continue your steadfast love to those who know you,

                        and your righteousness to the upright of heart!

11        Let not the foot of arrogance come upon me,

                        nor the hand of the wicked drive me away.

12        There the evildoers lie fallen;

                        they are thrust down, unable to rise.” (Psalm 36:1-12, English Standard Version)

That’s it—the whole thing! So, let’s begin by making some very general comments.

This psalm begins by acknowledging the presence and seriousness of sin. And Psalm 36 makes no bones about it: Wickedness is a serious matter. The psalm acknowledges that there are people who have become so devoted to evil that they have reached the point of no return.

Fortunately, in my judgment, such commitment is rare. Many people really do want to change, but don’t know how. They need a helping hand. I hope that I am one of those people. You probably are too, or you wouldn’t be reading this post. Take heart!

However, the psalmist recognizes that there are people for whom there is very little hope. How can they be identified? Primarily, says the psalmist, they can be identified by the fact that they have become so committed to an evil lifestyle that they don’t even want to change. They are too busy plotting evil to have time to plot a different, better course.

But then, in verse 5, the psalmist abruptly changes his focus. Now, he turns his eyes from the wicked to God. He says certain things about God that, if they are true, would make the most committed atheist want to believe in such a God. I do believe these things about God, but even when I was an atheist, I would have wished that I could believe in a God like the one described here.

Go back over verses 5-9. Read them slowly. Think about what they say about God. If God really is like that, oh my!

It is necessary to acknowledge that there are evil people in the world who really do not want to change. But it is also good to acknowledge that there is a God who is good to the very depth of God’s character, and that God’s goodness leads him to be good to all God’s creation. And such a God probably doesn’t need to change.

So, you want me to take out the word “probably” in the preceding sentence? Okay!

And such a God probably doesn’t need to change. Maybe we are the ones who need to change. We should change our focus from wicked people to the Good God.

“O, Ordinary Night”

DTEB, “O, Ordinary Night”

I like the Christmas song “O Holy Night.” In fact, I like it a lot.

However, I wonder . . .

I wonder if, for most people of that time, it wasn’t just another night. Most people were probably tired. Some were hungry. Some were worried. Some went to bed angry. Some couples were involved with some serious snuggle-bunnying. Others were fussing. Perhaps, if most people on the night of Jesus’ birth had written a song, it would have been entitled “Bah! Another Ordinary Night!”

However, I think that there is something very comforting about thinking of the night of Jesus’ birth as “ordinary.” Now don’t get me wrong. I think Jesus’ birth itself was something Special. Indeed, I believe that his birth was way beyond Special—even “Special” with a capital “S”.

But to think of “. . . the night of the dear Savior’s birth” as being ordinary recalibrates my attitude toward my own ordinary days and nights. Am I sure that ordinary days and nights even exist? Perhaps every day and every night are full of God’s glory and that, therefore, all days and nights are therefore holy. This is, in fact, what I believe with growing conviction day by day.

Perhaps the word “ordinary” should be banished from our vocabulary. At the very least, we probably shouldn’t throw it around as much as we do.

Have an extraordinary—and holy—day and night!

“A Good Kind of Laziness”

I am not a mind-reader, but I know what some of you are thinking. If you were paying attention to the title of this post, you’re thinking, “What!?! Laziness isn’t ever a good thing!”

Well, generally I would say “Amen” to that. However, it occurred to me this morning that there is laziness, and then, there is laziness. Let me explain.

We get Kroger fuel points, so when we get gas, I try to take all the gas cans I gather, so that we can get as much bang for our buck, and as much gas for our buck. My wife’s car was almost out of gas, so I went out late last night to put gas in her car out of one of our money-saving gas cans. It was only about 8:00 p.m., but that is late for me. It was cold, the gas cans are heavy, and the joint pain in my hands told me that I needed to power through the pain and the cold and the weight and the lateness of the hour, and just get this done.

There was a catch: I forgot to make sure that the gas cap on the five-gallon can was off. Do you have any idea how hard it is to pour gas out of a can when you haven’t taken off the cap? Short story long, I ended up spilling some gas on my old jeans. All this was the result of hurry and bad laziness.

My wife hates the smell of gas. I’m not all that fond of it myself. So, in spite of my desire to go to bed, I decided to do a load of laundry. But I hated just doing my gas-soaked pants, so I decided to throw in some wash cloths and towels and other hot water things.

You already see where this is going, don’t you? Yep! Bad laziness strikes again! Last night, after the hot-water things had been washed, I threw them in the dryer, turned it on and went to bed.

This morning, I got up and went downstairs to take the dog outside. I decided to be a good scout and fold the nice dry, clean clothes. “My wife will appreciate that,” I told myself. My self-congratulations were exceedingly premature. The clothes were dry alright. It was the clean thing that didn’t turn out well. As I folded the clothes, I discovered that they all smelled like gasoline.

So, I need to do them again as soon as my sweetheart gets up, if not before.

As I put the “clean” clothes back in the washer, I was invited by God’s Holy Spirit to think about what I had done and why. Was it that I like to conserve water and laundry detergent? Well yes, that may have factored in a little. But the bottom line was this: I was inattentive and lazy. The inattentiveness and laziness with the gas can cap had cascaded into laziness doing the laundry.

And then this thought occurred: If I had been productively lazy, none of this would have happened. Good laziness means slowing down, paying attention, and doing things right the first time. That is the best way to be lazy. And it’s a lot less work that my usual form of laziness.

Make it a good lazy day!

“Addicted to the Past”

“          Behold, I am doing a new thing;

                        now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

             I will make a way in the wilderness

                        and rivers in the desert.” (English Standard Version)

Addiction comes in many forms. One of the commonest forms is addiction to the past. In fact, it is so common that it isn’t usually recognized as an addiction. (If addictions are common enough, we baptize them and rename them “normal”—but they’re still addictions.)

It doesn’t much matter whether we are looking back with longing or with regret. Too much looking back is not a safe thing to do. I discovered this one time when I looked in my rearview mirror for too long and rear-ended the car in front of me.

What is wrong with looking back? In a sense, nothing. In fact, looking back at the past to learn from it can be very helpful. And sometimes, we all need to take a stroll down memory lane, just for fun.

But, at any age or stage in our lives, we mainly need to focus on the present and lean into the future. Looking back too often or for too long can cause more than automobile accidents. Such addiction to the past can cause life wrecks as well. Most things in the present moment are either enjoyable or endurable. It is when we begin importing the past (“It has always been like this!”) or the future (“It will always be like this!”) that we get into trouble. Such imports come with high tariffs.

The Bible teaches us to learn from the past, but not to spend too much time there. The Bible is mostly concerned with new things that God wants to do in our lives and in our world. God will and does work with addicts, but God refuses to live us in our addiction. Maybe one of the reasons why so many of us miss what God is doing is that we are looking back too much. It is hard to see things when you’re looking in the wrong direction.

Or, as my wife once said when I was reminiscing too much, “Honey, the past is a nice place to visit, but you can’t live there!”

“On Refusing to Make God’s Violent Language My Own”

I heard a paper presented at the annual Society of Biblical Language that made me profoundly uncomfortable. That does not make it a bad paper. Sometimes a body needs to be profoundly uncomfortable.

The basic thesis of the paper was that the violent language about God’s punishment of Judah in the Book of Jeremiah is profoundly disturbing. Such language can be—has been—used to justify violence in contemporary domestic relationships. This language participates in the very common practice of “victim-blaming.”

I checked out of the paper early. I couldn’t listen anymore. I can only handle so much truth at one time.

Of course, there are other ways of reading Jeremiah’s words. Jeremiah and other parts of the Bible can be read, not as God’s deepest intentions for Judah or the human race. Rather, these violent words can be read as the horrible consequences of our own decisions and behaviors.

Furthermore, I believe that it is always questionable to take the words of God, and use them to justify our own thoughts, words, and actions. God is God, if there is a God at all. We are not God. It might be wise to keep that in mind.

Two more observations might help (a little) with the violent language of God.

  1. The human race is violent. If God is to communicate with us at all, God must use language that we understand. Unfortunately, we are all fluent in the language of violence.
  2. Neither Judah, nor I, nor you, nor anyone are altogether innocent victims. Violence begets violence. Perhaps it isn’t that God’s violence begets ours, but that our violence gives birth to the violence of God.

When I was an atheist, I was violent. Now that I am a believer, I still struggle with violent thoughts and words. Especially on the highway, I struggle with my violent tendencies. The violence with which I need to wrestle is my own violence.

“Compassionate? Then Do Something!”

“Jesus was moved with compassion . . .” (Matthew 9:36, 14:14; and elsewhere)

“Having sympathy and compassion for all who are in temptation, a condition which we are sometimes in, we have a responsibility towards them. Sympathy always includes responsibility. Pity is useless because it does not have a remedy for the need. But wherever our sympathy goes, our responsibility goes too. When we are moved with compassion, we should go to the one in need and bind up his wounds as best we can.” (From Twenty-Four Hours a Day © 1975 by Hazelden Foundation.)

My brother used to say, “I feel for you, but I can’t reach you.” But a pity, or sympathy, or compassion, or empathy that doesn’t do something, doesn’t amount to anything. Whether you make a distinction between pity, sympathy, compassion, and empathy, what really makes the difference is acting. Love not only reaches; love reaches out.

God felt for his people who were slaves in Egypt. I’m sure of that. But God didn’t stop with his feelings. He did something: He freed them from slavery. Moses was God’s hand reaching out to God’s people.

Jesus felt compassion, but he didn’t stop there. He healed, he taught, he cast out demons, he fed the hungry. Jesus reached and he reached out.

Do I feel badly about racism in our society and in my heart? Then I need to do something about it! Am I grieved by sexism, Covid-19, hunger, war? That’s nice. Now, I need to do something about it!

What can I do today to embody my compassion for others? That is the question. My answer is either action, or my answer means nothing.

“Jesus Thinks of Everything!”

“Give her something to eat.” (Mark 5:43)

Jesus was and is incredibly down to earth.  Mark 5:22-43 tells the story of Jesus raising a young girl from the dead.  He had brought her back to life by saying two words, “Talitha Koum”—“Little girl, get up!”

But then, Jesus gives her mom and dad two commands.  The first was a strict command not to tell anyone what had happened.  That is strange!  Why would Jesus not want such a wonderful miracle to be generally known?  Jesus often tried to keep his miracles under wraps.  The reason is not usually spelled out, but it seems as if Jesus did not want his miracles to be people’s main focus.

But Jesus’ second command to the parents of the formerly dead girl seems strange too.  “Give her something to eat.”  What?!?  Did Jesus really need to tell them that?!

Well, yes, perhaps he did.  If the little girl had been sick for several days, she had probably not been eating much, if anything.  She needed to eat.

Then too, in the midst of strange reversals—whether the reversals are joyous or tragic—it is good to eat.  There is a reason why there are meals at both weddings and funerals.  Perhaps the parents needed to be told to do something simple and life affirming just to cope with such an amazing thing as having their daughter back with them, alive and whole.

Jesus thinks of everything!

“Gratitude and an Eye for Detail”

Do you have an eye for detail?  I do not.  At least, I don’t have such an eye most of the time or in most situations.

My “3-Minute Retreat” from Loyola Publishing challenged me this morning to develop such an eye.  (It was a very helpful retreat, which you can access for free at https://www.loyolapress.com/retreats/recibido-con-gratitud-start-retreat/.)

Toward the end of the retreat, the retreat master/writer asked a question: “Is there an aspect of creation that I should look at in more detail today?”  It is Thanksgiving Day, so the writer was explicitly connecting looking at things in more detail with giving God thanks.

I had never seen so clearly a connection between gratitude and observing things in detail.  And yet, in another sense, that is the way I try to live my life these days.  I try to notice those little realities of my daily life and give thanks for them.  I don’t always succeed of course, but I do try.

My wife is one of the best people I’ve ever known when it comes to awareness of details.  She knows what goes together and what does not.  (If I wear clothes that match, you can thank my sweetheart.)  Perhaps she was born that way, but I doubt it.  She probably had to learn the art of detailed awareness.

While it is rather late in life, perhaps I can learn the art of awareness as well.  Today—and every day—I can notice the details of my life and my world.  And maybe, just maybe, if I can cultivate such awareness, I can give God a larger fraction of the gratitude that God deserves.

“On Using a Wider Lens Camera for the Past”

But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:13b-14, English Standard Version. Paul has just listed a bunch of things, some good and some decidedly evil, that comprised his past. Only after he has remembered does he forget!)

The Hazelden website was down this morning, so I couldn’t do my “Today’s Thought” readings.  So, I found another Hazelden book that I have in my print library, Answers in the Heart: Daily Meditations.  I was planning to read the meditation for November 19, but instead, my eyes fell on the page on the left side of the book—the meditation for the day before.  I’m glad, this time at least, that my eyes did their own thing!

The page started off with an epigraph from Shakespeare:

Praising what is lost

Makes the remembrance dear.

The author of this meditation went on to note that addicts tend to look back on the past with regret.  This regret takes two forms: Either the addict regrets pleasures that he/she can no longer enjoy, or the addict regrets the damages done to himself or herself and others.  Most of my own regrets these days are about the damages I’ve done to others—and to myself.  Unfortunately, I have an excellent memory when it comes to the wrongs I’ve done.

The author of this brief recovery thought goes on to write the following helpful comments:

“As we meet with others and talk our way into a balanced view of ourselves, we are likely to revise our notions of the past.  To our surprise and joy, we find our focus widening; we are taking in other people.  We are no longer isolated figures, but part of a landscape thronged with family and friends.

“One of the great things about our newfound health is this ability to recall an expanding past with pleasure and joy as we achieve a wider, more generous perspective.  Our world grows and takes on more varied and deeper meanings.”

The meditation closes with the following affirmation: “Now that I am sane again, I can expand my vision of the past and find much to love and praise there.”

Using a wider lens for my past might lead to a more accurate and pleasing photograph. Zooming in on my very real mistakes and errors is like taking a closeup picture of a polluted patch of snow. and missing the panoramic view of the trees and mountains that surround the nasty patch.

My wife, who knows all about my past now, often reminds me that I was never quite as evil as I think I was.  Maybe I need to start listening to her.  I think I just will!

“Not Alone”

No, you are not alone.  I don’t care how alone you think you are or feel you are.  No, you are not alone.

In the “welcome” reading for newcomers to twelve-step groups, we read one four-word sentence to the newcomer that most of them cherish: “You are not alone.”  They cherish and remember these words because addictions make the addict feel horribly, terminally unique. She/he isn’t, but that thought, that feeling, is enough to drive the addict into the not-so-loving arms of despair.

But you don’t have to be an addict to think you’re alone or to feel lonely.  “Normal” people often have the same thoughts and feelings.  And of course, during this time of COVID-19-induced isolation and social distancing, we are all inclined to struggle with our aloneness.

However, I have a question for you.  Haven’t you ever felt alone, even in crowds?  That might suggest that togetherness is more than merely being around other people.  Even when we are with people whom we love and who love us, these feelings of loneliness can settle over our spirits like a grey fog.

Perhaps, then, we could use this feeling of loneliness-with-others in a positive manner by turning it around.  In other words, if we can feel lonely when we’re with people, perhaps we can feel companionated, even when people are not with us geographically.  (Yes, I know: “companionated” is not a real word.  But it ought to be!)

I am a beginner at this, but I am learning to have good relationships with people that I haven’t seen for years, as well as people with whom I come into contact via the phone and the internet.  This morning, I have had a wonderful, encouraging phone conversation with a twelve-step friend.  I just texted with another friend and sent my accountability report and affirmation to my two sponsors.  I had an interesting conversation with my dad, who has been dead for over thirty years.  I don’t think my dad and I understood one another very well when I was growing up.  We get along much better now.

My wife and our little dog are also in my heart.  In fact, I am going to have to ask God for a bigger heart to contain all the ones that I love.

And I am thinking about all of you who are reading this right now.  You also are in mind and heart.  I feel very close to you in this moment.

All of these people—and many more—are in my heart.  You can’t have any better companionship than that!  My life is relationally rich.  I am a multi-billionaire.

I am not alone and neither are you.  Let me say it again, whether or not you’re an addict:

You are not alone!

Follow on Feedly