“NO IMMEDIATE CONSEQUENCES?”
Some of my friends got together for a breakfast the other day. One of the guys asked a very provocative question: “If you could change one thing in the world, what would it be?”
Some said one thing. Some said another. I said, “I don’t know.”
The most interesting response was from Brian, who said, “I would make the consequences of all actions immediate.”
I thought this was interesting at the time. The more I’ve thought about it, the more interesting it has become.
But who says that it isn’t already so? Don’t our actions have immediate consequences?
No, in fact the Bible itself seems to acknowledge this reality of deferred consequences, and its problematic nature. For example, Ecclesiastes 8:11 says, “Because the sentence against an evil deed is not executed speedily, the heart of the children of man is fully set to do evil” (English Standard Version). However, Ecclesiastes is a pretty cynical book, and needs to be read and quoted with great care. (In fact, I encourage people not to read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance or the book of Ecclesiastes when they are already mildly depressed.)
On the other hand, I wonder if, in the most profound sense, the most serious consequences of all actions are not immediate. Or, at least, the consequences follow very quickly on the heels of our actions. I overeat, and it doesn’t take very long at all before I feel too full, guilty, and sluggish. I speak unkindly to my wife, and regret that I have hurt her.
However, there is a problem: If I do not swiftly heed my immediate consequences, it doesn’t take long before I am not able to take heed to those immediate consequences. Before long, I persuade myself that there aren’t any immediate consequences.
Why? I suspect that the answer is this: One of the first consequences of every wrong action is that our conscience is numbed. The Bible also acknowledges this. For example, Hebrews 3:13 says, “But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.” (English Standard Version)
Hardened by the deceitfulness of sin! Yes, I’m afraid that I have way too much experience with that. You?
Sin is a lot like certain deadly viruses and cancers. Like those viruses and cancers, the first thing that happens is that sin turns off our immune system.
Or, to change the analogy, like a burglar, sin first turns off the alarm system. Then, sin steals our joy, good relationships, peace, and self-respect. Soon, we are an empty and haunted house.
Well, this is a cheery thought on an overcast day, isn’t it?! Is there any hope? How about a little sunshine? I am glad that you asked!
According to the New Testament and classic Christian theology, Jesus Christ died for all our sins and their consequences. He took the whole tangled mess that is us upon himself. And that mess that is us killed him.
However, rumor has it that he didn’t stay dead. And when he came out of the tomb, according to the New Testament, we came out with him.
And so did our innocence.
And after his resurrection, Jesus, along with God the Father, sent the Holy Spirit to live in us. We now have the Holy Spirit living in us. And the Holy Spirit doesn’t put up with any crap from us. The power of immediate consequences is one of the gifts that God gives us through his Holy Spirit.
And we should thank God every day for the gift of immediate consequences.
“Bait or Poison?”
A good friend of mine is struggling with an invasion of ants. This is not unusual this time of years. She and her husband have put out lots of ant bait, but it is taking a while for all the ants to get the message that they are not welcome.
She wasn’t sure if the “bait” was working or not. I commented that it takes some time. And then I added, “They call it bait, but it’s really poison!”
Immediately, my mind went to James 1:12-15.
“12 Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. 13 Let no one say when he is tempted, “I am being tempted by God,” for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. 14 But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. 15 Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.” (English Standard Version)
Apparently, people in James’ day (about two thousand years ago) were prone to blaming God for their evil. Imagine that! I’m sure glad that we don’t do that these days!
James is very mathematical at this point;
Desire Sin Death
And it’s something we do to ourselves.
Of course, we wouldn’t (hopefully) do this on purpose. We don’t necessarily start out desiring our own death.
And, of course, not all desires are wrong. But when we indulge wrong desires, or even right desires excessively, we set the chain in motion. Like the ants in my friend’s house, if we take the bait, we have taken the poison. We can call it bait, but it’s still poison.
“Speaking the Truth in Love”
“Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ,” (Ephesians 4:15, English Standard Version)
Yesterday, our pastor spoke about “little” lies. I think that his sermon could probably be boiled down to three words: There aren’t any! There aren’t any little lies, that is. Of course, there are lots of lies.
In our community group last night, we talked about lies and about how difficult it is to tell the truth. It is also difficult to hear the truth.
I pointed out that, in Ephesians 4:15, Paul tells the church that they/we are to “speak the truth in love.” I really wish that he hadn’t said that. Speaking the truth is really hard. Loving is really hard. When you put the two together, you are challenging people to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, while walking a tight rope blindfolded over a lake full of hungry alligators.
So how do I speak the truth in love? I don’t know, but I will share a few suspicions with you.
In the first place, I need to be sure that I am speaking the truth. I have a tendency to say that I am speaking the truth, when in reality, I am simply spewing my opinion.
Second, I need to make sure that my “truth” is really truth, and not simply facts.
But aren’t truth and facts the same thing?
Nope! At least, not always.
Truths are always deep and important. Indeed, truths are vital. They are a matter of life and death.
Facts may be important, but often they are pretty trivial. If my wife is telling me about something that happened on Wednesday, but she says that it happened on Thursday, I don’t need to tell her “the truth.” Who cares?!
Now, of course, in a court of law, that fact (Wednesday or Thursday) could be the difference between a guilty verdict or an acquittal. Facts do matter in some situations. But in most cases, truth and facts are not the same thing. If I get confused about that, both love and truth go out the window.
Third, if I am to speak the truth in love, I need to ask and answer several questions:
- What is my motivation? Do I really value the other person, and that is why I need to tell them the truth?
- Do I have a close enough and good enough relationship with this person to speak the truth to him/her in such a way that they may be receptive to that truth? (Note that I said “. . . may be receptive . . . . There are no guarantees.)
- Is this the best time and are these the best circumstances to speak this truth to this person? A person has to be somewhat ready to hear the truth. We may or may not be able to discern timing. We need to lean heavily on the wisdom of God with regard to the matter of timing.
A final thought: Perhaps, before we don our armor, jump on our steed, and join in the battle for truth, we need to practice on ourselves. Maybe we should tell ourselves the truth, but do so in a loving manner. But that is a subject for another day, perhaps for tomorrow’s blog post.
“UNBELIEVING JOY”
A friend of mine suggested the topic of “unbelieving joy” for a blog post. Thanks, Mark! It was a wonderful suggestion. The topic is based on a story from the ending of Luke’s Gospel.
‘Luke 24:36 “As they were talking about these things, Jesus himself stood among them, and said to them, “Peace to you!” 37 But they were startled and frightened and thought they saw a spirit. 38 And he said to them, “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? 39 See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself. Touch me, and see. For a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” 40 And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. 41 And while they still disbelieved for joy and were marveling, he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” 42 They gave him a piece of broiled fish, 43 and he took it and ate before them.
Luke 24:44 Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” 45 Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, 46 and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, 47 and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 48 You are witnesses of these things. 49 And behold, I am sending the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high.”’ (Luke 24:36-49, English Standard Version)
The context is this: Jesus had been crucified and buried. The disciples were confused, sad, and terrified. In fact, they were devastated.
Several people had claimed that they had seen Jesus alive, but most of his disciples found this somewhere between difficult to believe and absolutely impossible to believe. They were still confused, sad, and terrified.
Then Jesus—initially incognito—walked to the village of Emmaus, talking with two of his disciples who were going that way. They didn’t know who this Guy was, but they did know that a blaze had been ignited in their hearts by his words. He had linked the tragic events of Jesus’ sufferings with the Words of their Scriptures, which we call the Old Testament.
This Stranger acted like he was going to travel beyond Emmaus, but the two disciples urged him to stay with them. He consented. And while they were having dinner, the Stranger had taken the bread, given thanks, broke the bread, and started to pass it around. And suddenly, their eyes were opened, and they knew that this was no stranger. This was Jesus!
He disappeared, and so did they. They hustled back to Jerusalem as best they could in the gathering gloom of night. They went to the place where the eleven disciples and others were hiding out, and said, “We have seen the Lord!” This was apparently what the disciples were talking about when Jesus himself showed up.
They thought they were seeing a ghost. Of course they did! “Dead men tell no tales.” When you’ve bought the ranch, the sale is final. No refunds. Right?
It is so much easier to believe in ghosts than that a dead man can be raised from the dead. It is easier, much easier to believe in ghosts or in another explanation, than it is to believe in resurrection. We can believe in anything else, or nothing at all. But resurrection?? Come on now!
The disciples were as much unbelieving believers as you and I are. In fact, one of the things that lends credibility to the gospel accounts is how the disciples are portrayed. If I had made up the story, I would not have had the disciples be this clueless. And tradition tells us that at least two of the Gospels were written by two of the original twelve apostles. I flat out would not have painted a picture of myself as these apostles paint. And even if the accounts were not written by the apostles themselves (Luke clearly was not one of the twelve), I would not have portrayed the early heroes of the faith as such bumbling fools.
But I want you to notice in particular that one of the reasons they couldn’t (or didn’t?) believe was because of their joy. According to verse 41, even after Jesus had spoken to them, even after he had shown them the nasty scars in his hands and feet, they still didn’t believe. And Luke gives a rather surprising reason for this.
Luke says that it was because they were too amazed to believe. I can believe that. Sometimes, things are simply too strange, too amazing to take in all at once. I can’t wrap my mind around certain things, so a thick fog rolls into my mind. I can’t understand and I can’t believe. Often people will say, “If I saw a miracle, I would believe.” No you wouldn’t! You’d be totally disoriented.
So the not-believing-because-of-amazement—that I can believe.
But Luke also says that the disciples couldn’t believe because of their joy. That has always struck me as odd. Until now, that is.
Some things are just too good to be true. And so, we opt for truth, rather than for joy. At least, we opt for what we take to be true, over joy.
Paul Simon has a wonderful song called “Something So Right.” Here are some of the lyrics:
“When
something goes wrong
I’m the first to admit it
I’m the first to admit it
But the last one to know
When something goes right
Well it’s likely to lose me
It’s apt to confuse me
It’s such an unusual sight
I can’t get used to something so right
Something so right.”
Maybe joy is like “something so right.” It is apt to confuse us.
But it’s deeper than that, isn’t it? The truth is that most of us don’t think we deserve joy. We’ve done screwy, wrong things. We’ve messed up our own and other people’s lives to the point where we are messes. No, most of us are scared to death of joy, because deep in our hearts, we know we don’t deserve it.
We are not simply surprised by joy, as C. S. Lewis said in his spiritual autobiography. (To the surprise of no one it is entitled “Surprised by Joy.”) We are not surprised; we are shocked by joy—so much so that we can’t even function or believe.
But is joy really about our deserving it? Or is joy about grace—especially the grace of God? What if joy is a gift?
I write these thoughts as questions because I too have a difficult time believing in joy. And when joy ambushes me, I have a difficult time believing because of joy.
I think I’ll choose belief and joy, as well as belief in joy today. How about you?
“Regaining the Outward Focus and the Upward Focus”
“Today, by God’s grace, I am not focused on my weaknesses, but on the strengths God gives me for His glory and the well-being of everyone. I will be upwardly-focused and outwardly-focused today.”
I tend to beat myself up for my weaknesses. This, of course, makes my weaknesses much stronger.
So, because my weaknesses are becoming stronger, I focus on them even more intensely. Round and round the mulberry bush I go.
If a strategy or habit isn’t working, it might be best to try something else. If a strategy or habit is making the problem worse, it would definitely be best to try something else.
My mom used to get after me sometimes when I was growing up for being too concerned about myself. She even thought my attempts at improving myself were sometimes too selfish. I have long since realized that she was right.
But how to get out of this hellish echo chamber? Is there a twelve-step group called “Self-involved So-and-Sos Anonymous”? Perhaps there should be. Or, perhaps, such a group would only be perpetuating the problem?
Two things might help my preoccupation with my weaknesses, faults, and failures. One is outward focus. Be grateful for things that are not me. Be interested in other people. Do some kind things for people every day. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Little kindnesses are often all that is needed to brighten someone’s day.
And then, there is the upward focus. I find that, when I look around in an appreciative and kindly manner, I am more about to look upward toward God. The converse is also true. Sometimes, I have to look up, even when I’m not sure that God is even there. Faith is not the absence of doubts. Faith is trusting God even when you have profound doubts.
Don’t get me wrong. It is sometimes necessary to look inward, and is not always an easy thing to do. However, if that is all that I do, if I never look around or up, I am going to get terribly cross-eyed.
I need to remember what Mrs. Whatsit said to Meg in A Wrinkle in Time: “Meg, I give you your faults.” Accepting my weaknesses, my faults, is absolutely vital to looking upward and outward.
“Vulnerable Courage”
Here is my journal entry from this morning:
Friday, April 26, 2019
I listened to Brenè Brown on Netflix yesterday evening. A bit salty in her language, but very good. (Also, she is very funny, which doesn’t hurt her talk at all.) Based on her talk, two good questions to ask myself are these: Am I showing up in the arena? Am I throwing my entire self into this?
Here is my 12-step affirmation for today: “Today, by God’s grace, I am entering the arena. I don’t have to win. I do have to (and get to) throw my entire heart, soul, and mind into the battle. And I am doing precisely that.”
I teach my final exegesis of Isaiah face-to-face class today, from 9:00 until 5:00. I am not as prepared as I would like to be. Or, at least, I don’t feel as prepared as I should be. However, I need to show up, whatever my state of preparation. Perhaps showing up is the name of the game. Perhaps showing up is the game.
Brown says that being vulnerable is one of the central characteristics of courage. She almost equates the two. I agree.
So, today I will be vulnerably courageous and courageously vulnerable.
Arena, here I come!
“NOT ENOUGH TIME”
Here is my journal entry from yesterday.
“Thursday, April 25, 2019
I am feeling guilty because I am not as prepared to teach tomorrow’s Exegesis of Isaiah class I should be. This is nothing unusual. I live with a low-grade guilt about such things. Students think they have a monopoly on this feeling. They are mistaken.
In fact, I never, ever, have enough time to do everything I want to do. But is that necessarily a bad thing?
Perhaps not, though it often feels bad.
A friend of mine who spent several years in prison said that the worst part of prison was the boredom. Lots of time, and nothing to do.
So, I can’t do everything I want. I can’t prepare as much as I would like for the classes I teach. I can’t spend as much time with my wife as I would like. I can’t ride the Little Miami Bike Trail as often as I would like. I can’t read as many books as I would like. I can’t write as many blogs as I would like. I can’t spend as much time weeding the flower beds as I would . . . O, wait! That may be overstating my frustration with time constraints.
Perhaps that too-much-to-do-and-not-enough-time feeling should be celebrated, rather than mourned. Maybe it is only when I chafe against my time constraints, that they handcuff me and cut into my wrists. If I wear these time limitations loosely, as a reminder of my humanity and of my zest for life, then these limits may cease to be a curse. Who knows? They may even become a blessing.”
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