“ON OPENING MY EYES WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE THEM CLOSED (AND SEEING ANOTHER KID WITH HIS EYES OPEN)”
“Judge not!” (Matthew 7:1)
“ ‘Jesus’ instructions with regard to judging others is very simply put; He says, “Don’t.’ ” (Oswald Chambers)
I was probably about five- or six-years old when I noticed that another boy in my Sunday School class had not closed his eyes when the teacher told us that we should all close our eyes and pray.
I, of course, knew that I had to inform the teacher of this infraction. (Hey! Someone has to keep law and order, and hold back the chaos!) The teacher thanked me, and went on with the class. I’m not sure if she had to suppress irritation or a laugh. Maybe both.
Since then, I have become much better at trying to disguise my judgmentalism. I wish I were better from it, but I can’t honestly say that. No, I am better at trying to disguise my judgmentalism.
Take driving, for example. I hate it when people weave in and out of traffic. It keeps me from effectively weaving in and out of traffic.
My wife is a really good woman, and my best friend. However, every once in a very great while, she forgets to turn off a light when she leaves a room, and I feel a deep-seated need to point that out—despite the fact that my dad used to do that, and I swore I would never do that.
However, I sometimes forget to turn off one or more lights when I leave a room. That is, of course, an entirely different matter.
And then there are the big things that I judge other people for. There are also the similar, but even bigger, things that I (the judge) have done.
So, what can I do to grow past my young, judgmental, tattle-tale-ish self?
Well, for one thing, I can try to pay attention. When am I feeling judgmental and/or thinking judgmental thoughts? Awareness is not growth or holiness or compassion, but it can be a prelude to those good things.
I can ask myself a simple, but uncomfortable, question: In what way or ways is my behavior similar to what I am judging in the other person? Often the things we are most irritated with in other people are precisely the things that we are struggling with in ourselves. Or, more often perhaps, they are precisely the things that we are not struggling with in ourselves.
The truth is that judging other people is one of my favorite sports. However, it doesn’t burn very many calories, nor does it tone up any muscles. In fact, judging doesn’t do anything good at all. It doesn’t help me or the person I’m judging. It doesn’t glorify God.
Are there times when a person needs to be confronted about what they are doing? Yes! However, if I have my rebuker in overdrive, the problem is mine, and not the other person’s problem.
“FEEDING THE GOOD WOLF”
“10 Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.
11 Do this, knowing the time, that it is already the hour for you to awaken from sleep; for now salvation is nearer to us than when we believed.
12 The night is almost gone, and the day is near. Therefore let us lay aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.
13 Let us behave properly as in the day, not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual promiscuity and sensuality, not in strife and jealousy.
14 But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh in regard to its lusts.” (Romans 13:10-1, New American Standard, 1995)
No doubt, most of you have heard the story about the two wolves. There are variations of it scattered through various American Indian tribes.
My favorite version says that a young boy went to his grandfather for counsel because of a recurring dream the boy was having. In the dreams, two wolves were fighting to the death. One was brave, generous, and good. The other was vicious, indeed evil. Both were strong. The boy felt that both wolves were within himself.
The grandfather listened intently. After finishing his story about the dreams, the young boy asked, “Grandfather, which wolf will win?”
The grandfather replied, “Whichever one you feed.”
I know how to feed the evil wolf within me. I’ve had lots of experience. But, what do I do to feed the good wolf within me? I think I know that, too. It isn’t knowing that matters, however. It is doing.
So, what do I do to feed the good wolf inside me? Let me list a few things that work for me. Some are probably unique to me. Some may be universal. Other ways of feeding the good wolf may be helpful to some folks, but not to others. As we say in 12-step work, “Take what you like, and leave the rest.”
- Getting enough rest feeds the good wolf.
- Being active physically feeds the good wolf.
- Eating regular, properly portioned, healthy meals feeds the good wolf.
- Having good, clean fun feeds the good wolf.
- Listening to good music feeds the good wolf.
- Spending time with people I really like feeds the good wolf.
- Spending time outside feeds the good wolf.
- Helping others feeds the good wolf.
- Making lists and putting checkmarks by things I’ve done feeds to good wolf.
- Doing housework feeds the good wolf. (My wife would be justifiably pleased if I fed the good wolf in this manner a little more consistently.)
- Reading (or rereading) really good books, poems, and stories feeds the good wolf.
- Writing is another way of feeding the good wolf.
I think I’ll feed the good wolf a lot today! Writing and publishing this blog is one step.
“CONSISTENCY IN LIVING AND THE RIGHT TO WORSHIP”
“Psalm 15:1 A psalm of David. LORD, who may be a guest in your home? Who may live on your holy hill? 2 Whoever lives a blameless life, does what is right, and speaks honestly. 3 He does not slander, or do harm to others, or insult his neighbor. 4 He despises a reprobate, but honors the LORD's loyal followers. He makes firm commitments and does not renege on his promise. 5 He does not charge interest when he lends his money. He does not take bribes to testify against the innocent. The one who lives like this will never be upended.” (New English Translation) “Psalm 15: 1 God, who gets invited to dinner at your place? How do we get on your guest list? 2 ‘Walk straight, act right, tell the truth. 3 ‘Don't hurt your friend, don't blame your neighbor; 4 despise the despicable. ‘Keep your word even when it costs you, 5 make an honest living, never take a bribe. ‘You'll never get blacklisted if you live like this.’” (The Message)
The story is told of a pastor who showed up for Sunday morning worship, only to find a long line of people waiting to enter. They were being questioned by one of the deacons, and then they were being turned away. No one was entering.
When the pastor got to the door, he was really angry. “What are you doing?!” he asked the deacon. It was not a question; it was an accusation.
The deacon calmly explained, “Oh, pastor, I’m asking people how they have lived this week. Only those who have made a serious attempt to live the Christian life are being allowed in.”
“Oh!” said the pastor, somewhat mollified. He started to walk past the deacon to enter the sanctuary, but the deacon put out his arm to stop him. “No, pastor, I’m sorry, but you can’t go in either.”
At this point, the pastor awoke from his dream. Or was it a nightmare?
Now, in a sense, the story is way off-base. Jesus welcomes sinners of all kinds, even us religious ones. Jesus came for riff-raff like you and me. In fact, even those of us who are the most riff-raffy are greatly beloved and accepted.
In another sense, perhaps the story of the pastor’s dream is pretty biblical.
Take Psalm 15, for example. Scholars often refer to as an “Entrance Torah/Teaching.” Some have argued that the worshipers asked the questions in verse 1, and the priest or temple official (or officials) responded antiphonally with vss. 2-5. Only after this could people enter in order to worship in the temple.
I don’t know if that is true. Maybe so, maybe no. But what is true is that this psalm closely links our worship with our daily lives. Whether we’re telling the truth, honoring the right people, being kind and generous—these matters are radically important when we go to worship God.
And it’s not just a matter of external “good deeds.” Notice vs. 2. In Hebrew, it sets forth as one of the entrance qualifications “speaking the truth in his heart.” There is a profound truth implied in that little phrase: We always lie to ourselves first. Real worship begins with telling ourselves the truth. We all delight in telling other people the truth about their lives (or, at least, what we think is the truth about their lives.) However, it is recognizing the truths about ourselves that is part of the qualification for worship.
The Hebrew in vs. 2 is very interesting. Each of the verbs is a participle—“living” (literally, “walking”), “doing” and “speaking.” In Hebrew, participles sometimes suggest ongoing or continual action that flows out of the very being of a person. This verse may be reminding us that their needs to be a consistency to our lives. This is a consistency of both doing and being.
The ending of verse 5 also has a participle. This may serve to drive home the point that, if we do not wish to be “shaken,” we need to be unshakably consistent in our daily living, if we wish to worship God in a meaningful fashion.
So, does this amount to “salvation by our own works”? I don’t think so. In point of fact, I believe that there is only One Person since the Garden of Eden who really had the right to worship God in the temple or anywhere else, and that his name is Jesus. He is the only qualified worshiper. He opens the door for the rest of us rag-tag worshipers.
However, Psalm 15:2-5 still stands guard over true worship. If we want to worship God, we had better at least be striving to be consistently people of integrity.
“WHAT NOT TO DO WHEN I’M DEPRESSED”
I am a little depressed today. The problem with being a little depressed is that depression grows up really quickly.
It might be helpful to list some of the things that I think are contributing to my depression. Here they are, complete with bullet points.
- I haven’t been sleeping well.
- I got some bad news (at least, it seems bad for me) about one of my jobs.
- A good friend and I exchanged some unkind words recently.
- I was back up to 170 pounds this morning. (Hey! Do you want an honest blog post or not?!)
- I don’t do well with cold, gray days. (I may have a touch of seasonal affective disorder—or maybe I just don’t like cold, gray days.)
- I’m depressed because I’m depressed.
That last contributing factor is the most serious one. The really devastating thing about depression is that it feeds on itself. The words of Frederick Buechner about anger come to mind.
“Of the Seven Deadly Sins, anger is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back–in many ways it is a feast fit for a king. The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the feast is you.”
The same may be said of depression. In fact, some psychologists think that depression is anger turned inward.
When you’re depressed, you don’t want to do anything. There is a particular to aversion to doing anything that might help you get out of the depression.
So, I am trying to do only things I don’t feel like doing for the rest of the day.
- In fact, I have already taken a nap. Take that, depression!
- I don’t feel like taking care of or playing with our puppy, so that is what I have done and will do several more times before I go into work.
- I don’t feel like shaving, so I will.
- I don’t feel like exercising, so I will go out and walk for two miles.
- I don’t feel like going into work, but I will anyway.
- I don’t feel like posting anything on my blog, but I will anyway.
Hey! I feel a little better already!
“WRITING THE EXTRAORDINARILY ORDINARY”
I was talking with another writer the other night. I asked her what she had written this week. She hadn’t.
I tried to console her with my own truth: “I didn’t write much this week either,” I confessed. This led to an interesting discussion about why it is difficult to write.
I can’t speak for Jenny, but I do know that I have several problems that get in the way of writing. For one thing, I sit around waiting for inspiration or great thoughts to hit me. All that hits me when I do that is the desire to distract myself with on-line word games or a Snicker’s bar.
And then there is garden-variety laziness. Writing is work. Well, maybe not the physical act of writing. The hard work is the mind and heart and soul that you put into writing. Sometimes, writing flows for me, but not often. I have to be aware of what I am feeling and thinking. Even more difficult is thinking and feeling what my characters are thinking and feeling.
But I think that my biggest problem is that I don’t want to write about ordinary stuff. I want to deal with cosmic issues. And here is the problem with that: I don’t know much (or even suspect much) about cosmic issues.
However, here is what I think in my better moments: There is no such thing as “ordinary stuff.” I listen to other people’s stories, and I see this clearly.
However, my own life seems pretty ordinary to me. Still, there are moments when I see the truth. My story may be more comic than cosmic, but my life may impinge on great issues. I need to begin to see my life as it is—as an interesting life. Interestingly boring—that’s what my life is. As someone has said, I need to “dip my quill into my own heart’s lifeblood and write.”
All stories are interesting. To think of them otherwise is one of the gravest mistakes we can make.
And good writing about ordinary things makes for good reading. One of the many functions of good writing is that it lifts us out of ourselves, and then takes us back to ourselves. Of course, bad writing makes our “ordinary” lives seem drab and mundane. But, when we return to ourselves after reading a good poem, story, or book, we come back to find our selves slightly changed for the better. Perhaps we begin to see that our own lives are more interesting than we had previously imagined.
“THERE’S HOPE, AND THEN THERE’S HOPE!”
“Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.” (Psalm 42:5, KJV)
“Many things are possible for the person who has hope. Even more is possible for the person who has faith. And still more is possible for the person who knows how to love. But everything is possible for the person who practices all three virtues.” (Brother Lawrence. Read more: https://www.christianquotes.info/top-quotes/16-encouraging-quotes-about-hope/#ixzz4wiEMwLpV)
My sponsor, Bob, is good about encouraging me, but at times he also challenges me. For example, part of my report to my sponsor this morning was the following:
Subject: REPORT AND AFFIRMATION
Dear Bob,
“I plan to live in recovery today, without exception I hope!”
AFFIRMATION: Today, by God’s grace, I will an exceptionally 12-step life.
My sponsor replied, “Get rid of the qualifier, ‘I hope’. You cannot give yourself permission to fail. Do or Don’t, there is no try.”
Enjoy your day 😊
However, I e mailed him the following reply:
“Not so sure you’re right on this one. After all, hope is one of the three eternal virtues (1 Corinthians 13: 13).
I think that the crucial question is this: In whom or what am I trusting? If I am trusting in myself or my unaided efforts, my “hope” would be another word for despair.
But if I am hoping in God, that is an entirely different matter.
However, your comment has invited me to ask a very difficult and important question. Is my hope centered in God?
I hope (!!) this clarifies matter. 😊
Warm Regards”
But in a very profound sense, my sponsor is right. I do frequently use hope to give myself an out for failure. And when hope is used in that way, I am setting myself up for failure, and hope is not biblical hope.
“Hope thou in God,” says the psalmist (Psalm 42:5, 11). And God is the One in whom I can hope confidently. God forgives my sins, but God does not make room for those sins. Rather, God makes room for me. And a huge part of that “making room” for me is cleaning out all the moral, relational garbage that I tend to cling to as if it were some sort of treasure.
“ON BEING A SURROGATE FATHER TO A SMALL BALL OF FUR”
“Oh God, please help me to become the man that my dog thinks that I already am!” (The prayer of an honest man.)
“Then God said, ‘Let us make human beings in our image, to be like ourselves. They will reign over the fish in the sea, the birds in the sky, the livestock, all the wild animals on the earth, and the small animals that scurry along the ground.’
So God created human beings in his own image. In the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.
Then God blessed them and said, ‘Be fruitful and multiply. Fill the earth and govern it. Reign over the fish in the sea, the birds in the sky, and all the animals that scurry along the ground.’ ” (Genesis 1:26-28)
We now have a very small puppy. I feel that old pride, fear, and solicitude that I used to feel for our children when they were babies. I wish that I had continued to feel those feelings, and that I had acted accordingly as our children grew.
Our six-week-and-one-day-old puppy is going to help me get up early in the morning on a more consistent basis. She awakened me—and my wife, of course—at about 3:18 a.m. So, she is with me now in the study—the dog, that is. (My wife has gone back to bed.) The dog is sleeping in her cage, while I work at my desk and listen to WGUC. 3:18 a.m. is early, even for me.
Even though my wife did all of the heavy lifting with our children, I do remember some pretty sleepless nights. Or, at least, some nights with sporadic sleep! There is a reason why young people have babies. Perhaps only young people should have puppies as well.
Our puppy is reacquainting me with some very basic, uncomfortable truths about myself. The main reminder is this: I am a very selfish person. This is not exactly a new revelation. The truth is this: I have much more in common with our puppy than I have with you, God. My dog and I are both your creatures. We are both limited and full of ourselves.
God, you have made us human beings in your image. Perhaps our rulership over creation is actually a matter of loving creation, and helping the rest of creation to become more than it is. Perhaps (as C.S. Lewis thought), we are to raise even our pets to a higher level.
Perhaps. But in order to do that, we/I need to be and become our own selves. We/I need to be like you. That was the original promise (or fact?), according to Genesis 1:27. The original lie was that we needed to disobey God in order to really become like God (Genesis 3:5). The promise (or fact?) was that we were like you. Help us/me to live in the promise/fact, and not to buy into the lie.
SHAKE AND STOMP!
The story is told of a mule that somehow stumbled into an unused well.
The good news? The mule was, quite surprisingly, unhurt.
The bad news? The mule couldn’t get out.
More good news! The farmer found his captive mule very quickly.
Really bad news. The farmer couldn’t figure out any way to free his mule.
A bit of better news. The farmer went to his neighbor for advice and help.
More than a bit of bitter news. The neighbor couldn’t figure out any way to help get the mule out either. The farmers were very poor, and couldn’t afford a block and tackle, much less a crane.
They did, however, have a shovel apiece.
So, they made a very difficult decision: They decided to bury the poor beast.
But they soon found that burying the animal was harder than they had anticipated. When they threw a shovelful of dirt, the mule would simply shake it off and stomp.
Eventually, they had put so much dirt in the well that the mule gave one last shake, stomped, and stepped out of the well. He was dirty and (no doubt disgusted with the rescue method), but otherwise unharmed.
I doubt that the preceding story is factual, but I do think that it is true. Or, at the very least, it contains truth.
There are times when we all stumble around and fall into a well. We can’t figure out how to get out. (Getting in is always easier than getting out, isn’t it?)
Perhaps even those who mean well can’t figure out what to do to help us. But at least, they can give us a decent burial.
However, if we can shake off their well-meaning attempts to write us off as dead—if we shake and stomp—we may find that we can eventually get out of the well.
I’ve actually had people I love treat me as if I were dead. They have their reasons. I’ve given them reasons. I love them, but I have not always treated them in a loving manner. They have thrown shovelfuls of verbal abuse and silence on me.
However, I have shaken it off as best I can, and stomped. (I’m too stubborn to die without doing some stomping.)
Goodbye, well pit! Hello freedom!
Do you need to do some shaking and stomping today? You can’t always control what people or life throw at you or on you, but you can shake and stomp.
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