Choosing to Live Sensibly

Most people have done things they look back upon and view as a bit wacky. “What was I thinking?” Sometimes they were done for love. Sometimes they were done to relieve boredom. Sometimes they were done for the thrill and attention. And sometimes they were done because of personal convictions. Then there are the things done that are downright insane with potential life-threatening consequences.

  • A stuntman named Freddy Nock is known for walking on tight ropes over mountain gorges, often on an upward slope without safeguards.
  • Skydiver, Luke Aikins, jumped from 25,000 feet (7,620 meters) without a parachute in 2016, landing in a giant net and setting a world record. Yes, he could have easily missed the net.
  • Then there’s a man named Amou Haji from Iran who hasn’t showered in more than 60 years. He believes that bathing will make him sick. And, of course, he doesn’t live with anybody.*

It Makes Sense to Me

Interestingly, every one of these and others that have done or are doing things considered weird or “off the deep end,” believe they have “good” reasons for their actions. That which is seen as reasonable, justifiable, and positive is always determined according to an individual’s values and worldview. Amou, the non-bather, has explained the reasoning behind his position. He got quite sick after taking a bath when he was young. Because he values feeling well, it logically followed in his mind to never wash himself again.

The same idea can be applied to how a society or an entire generation thinks. Common thought processes and unique patterns of logic develop in groups that make sense to the members but many times not to “outsiders.” We often look back in history and negatively judge people for their stupid actions or beliefs. But many individuals we think of as nutty or deranged were actually quite intelligent, maybe even more so than ourselves. It’s the way they viewed the world, understood reality, and determined values that shaped their dubious and sometimes atrocious behavior. Beliefs are the machines that produce our actions and lifestyles.

Glad I’m Not the Crazy One

But before we divide the present population between the right-minded and the crazies, maybe we should ask ourselves some questions.

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Choosing Patience

I always saw myself as a laid-back, easy-going person. That was until my first year of teaching remedial English to 8th graders in a California inner-city school. My carefully composed lesson plans were sabotaged daily by 13 and 14 year olds who derived perverse pleasure from watching my frustration grow. I would come home each afternoon exhausted and dreading the next day. A few years later, after I had transitioned out of teaching public school and into working with Youth With A Mission, God had to deal with my heart. He revealed to me that I was holding onto hatred for some of those kids. And to be truly free of the torment I still carried, I had to forgive each of them by name and pray blessings on them. It was not a fun process, but it was necessary. And out of it I grew to understand more of how God wants His Holy Spirit to work in my life. I am to take on more of His characteristics.

We are told in Galatians 5:22-23 that there are certain God-given qualities called the Fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. I have talked about love* and Joy** in past posts and will soon post one on peace. But the quality that I have been pondering lately is that of patience. An older name for it is long-suffering, which always sends uncomfortable chills down my spine when I say it. Is it really necessary?

We don’t produce it

The first thing that comes to my mind is that patience is a FRUIT of the Spirit. One of the definitions of fruit is “result” or “effect.” Thus patience, along with the other qualities on the list, is evidence that the Holy Spirit is living and active in me. The other thing that comes to mind is that fruit must be cultivated to grow; it does not suddenly appear fully ripened and ready for harvest without a caretaker making sure the plant or tree is properly nourished and dangerous pests are eradicated. In other words, once the proper seeds have been planted and the environment suitably prepared, the fruit will naturally come . . . eventually.

I often hear people (especially Americans) talk of their need for more patience. Most of us intuitively desire the valuable attributes of being able to wait, endure, and stick with something when results do not appear as quickly as we prefer. However, I have been warned of praying the “dangerous” prayer of, “Lord, make me more patient.” Afterall, there’s nothing magical, mysterious, or instantaneous about growing patience. Difficult and painful circumstances along with delayed gratification are always necessary for this particular fruit to form into maturity. And God seems to value this quality to such a degree that He is ready to answer this prayer with plenty of opportunities for it to develop.

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Choosing God’s Way of Perfection

As a kid, I loved to do pencil drawings. I received so much affirmation from my sketches that I decided at a young age that I should learn to paint and become a professional artist when I grew up. But the problem was that for every drawing or painting I completed, there were 10 I abandoned part-way through. They just never looked right. I became unsure of my ambition to attend art school once I realized that I couldn’t distinguish certain shades of color. My younger brother burst into hysterics one day over a self-portrait that I considered perfect. He pointed out through howls of laughter that I had painted myself green. That pretty much ended my dream and at the same time assured me that I couldn’t trust my own abilities.

I realize now that my idea of a perfect drawing or painting was so narrow that I could never fulfill it. In my belief system at the time, there were only two ways to create a picture, the right way and the wrong way. Unfortunately, my understanding of art wasn’t mature enough to question any unarticulated definitions of right and wrong. And so, my old sketchbooks are littered with abandoned and incomplete drawings. I’ve often wondered what could have been if I had learned to relax, appreciate the process, and creatively discover something new rather than fixating on a specific end product and the fear of not attaining it.

Avoiding Failure

What is it that lures people into the perfectionistic trap? I’m sure there are many answers to such a question, depending on the specific task at hand. Some might say they just want what they do to be the best it can be. Others link their personal value to achieving specific goals. What they accomplish, however, rarely matches what they believe ought to be.

For me, perfectionism has always manifested when I narrow down success at a task to a razor-thin definition. If I don’t see how my expectation can be attained, I usually stop trying. And when it comes to making decisions, my greatest concern is to avoid making the wrong one. Therefore, I tend to procrastinate. Putting off a conclusion as long as possible feels like a better option than failure.

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Choosing to Not Turn Myself into an Object

During my senior year in high school, my football coach referred to me as a “great athlete.” I was shocked but ecstatic that he would say such a thing. That was NOT how I saw myself. I had had minimal interest in athletics most my life, never finding deep personal fulfillment on any particular team, preferring to spend time reading books. Playing sports (when I did) was mostly a pathway for acceptance from peers. But with those words, uttered from a man who had driven us hard into the Oregon State Quarter Final Playoffs (where we were soundly defeated), I felt as if I had found myself. Soon after the season ended, the same coach encouraged me to try out for a college team (albeit a small one). I was pumped with a new and alluring picture of myself: Jeff the athlete!

What am I, really?

It wasn’t until a long conversation a month later with my girlfriend (who would eventually be my wife) that I faced what was really going on inside. I didn’t really want to play football. It was the newly-embraced athletic image that I was seeking to maintain. Even then, however, I did not yet realize that I was seeking a narrow, two-dimensional picture of myself that could easily answer the question, “who am I?” Being an athlete was such an easy, ready-made handle that was difficult to let go of.

I ended up not playing any sports in college. And the answer to my question remained elusive. Even as I tried various activities and jobs over the next few years, I was unable to compress myself into a neat and tidy manageable understanding of who or what I was.

Lesson learned: The longing for a clarified identity never leaves. I always feel driven to center my self-understanding on that one thing that makes me feel unique, that I can do better than those around me, or that just makes me feel good.

Child of God at My Core

Many years passed before I began to explore what an identity centered on being a child of God truly means. Seeing myself as God’s son changed everything. But I had overlooked it for so long. There are many biblical references to this being what God’s intention had been all along. And slowly, I came to realize that embracing this identity protected me from turning myself into an object. As a child of God, I would not be dependent on any biological, emotional, intellectual, financial, sexual, or vocational quality that may or may not be there when I would need something solid to hold onto.

I saw that the implications of this identity are enormous.

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Choosing to Hope in Resurrection

Grim news continues to come out of Ukraine. Mass graves are being discovered. And stories of torture and executions are multiplying. Not since World War 2 has Europe been the site of such atrocities. But now, with another apparently unhinged despot doubling down on justifying his aggression, there are nuclear weapons of mass destruction at play. What were at one time far-fetched plots for military thrillers, now are daily headlines. And to add to it all: is the pandemic really over? Could a new strain of virus be around the corner, along with the uncertainty of how to deal with it? Runaway inflation? I feel depression knocking at my door, and I can’t see how it’s going to end.

“Hope” is a nice word for such a time we’re in now. But how does that word play out in this season of war and potential mass destruction? How do we find real hope when most the news coming at us feels dark with no reliable light at the end of the tunnel?

What Does It Actually Mean?

An online dictionary defines hope as “the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.” While this is how most people generally think of hope, I have a problem with this definition. It reduces hope to a mere feeling. And if I’ve learned anything about feelings, it’s that they’re unreliable and rarely stick around through every season. For such a time as this, I need something that works apart from my emotions and that I can rely on regardless what I’m feeling as I scan the news.

I prefer to understand hope as the belief that there is good in the future. Beliefs can be felt at times, but they aren’t dependent on feelings. To believe that there is something ahead that can give me a kind of goodness that will make my present pain and confusion melt away gives me strength to endure today. Hope is more than wishing for something to be true. It’s the confidence that the way things are now is not the way they’re going to remain.

Not Everything is Worthy

My definition, however, requires hope to be rooted in something that can deliver the goods. Sometimes I put my hope in things that do not have the capacity to produce what I am ultimately longing for. “I hope I can make more money and finally find peace.” Or “I hope I can find a ‘significant other’ and finally feel secure.” And even, “I hope a certain person gets elected as president so I can finally feel good that my country’s problems are going to improve.” None of these, though they involve significant issues that impact my life, are worthy of my hope. They can’t deliver the bottom line of what my heart is longing for. Unfortunately, many of us have built our lives on a series of false hopes. We believe that if a particular thing will change or can be added, or be taken away, then we will finally be able to have good lives. Yet, even if on the surface we get what we want, sooner or later we will once again feel disrupted, agitated, or empty.

Hope, however, is a necessary ingredient for life. There are many things we can live without, but hope is not one of them. And so, we continue to seek things that are solid enough to hold life-sustaining hope, things that can withstand the uncertainties of life in this world. Deep down we know that our lives and the ability to keep going depend on it. We’ve got to have hope.

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Choosing a Messiah

I just finished reading the novel Dune, by Frank Herbert. It had been on my to-read list since I first heard about it back in high school (a long time ago). Now, with the most recent rendering of the story on film in 2021, I decided I would read it before watching the movie.

The book, published in 1965, is said to be the best-selling and most influential work of science fiction ever. And after reading it, I understand why. It’s an imaginative tale of adventure set in a galaxy far, far away (sound familiar?). But at the same time, it delves into political, economic, and ecological theory. In addition, religious and philosophical thought abundantly permeate its more-than 800 pages of storyline and appendices. It is overall a ponderous yet intriguing read. The idea that caught my attention and imagination, however, was the author’s presumption of what an effective savior must be. A good story, in my opinion, needs some kind of rescuing hero. And this one provides that.

In Herbert’s tale, the protagonist is a messianic figure. A young man rises up to liberate an entire marginalized and oppressed people group. He is trained from infancy to lead, strategize, fight, and is endowed with supernatural-like powers that set him apart. I won’t tell you what happens (although I haven’t seen the movie yet), but it involves epic battles, mysterious prophecies, power-hungry villains, and giant sand worms the length of multiple football fields.

Anointed for a Task

As a follower of Jesus, my ears perk up when I hear the word, messiah, mentioned. I used to think it was unique to Christianity. The word originally comes from Hebrew and means “anointed one.” It was translated into Greek as chrīstos. And thus, Jesus Christ means Messiah Jesus. In the Old Testament, prophets, priests, and kings had oil poured over their heads (the anointing representing God’s Spirit) to indicate that they had been set apart for a unique heavenly task. Therefore, when the Jews started looking to the future for The Anointed One to come, rescue them from their oppressors, and reestablish proper worship of God, they were waiting for The Messiah, the One to make everything right. And many of them are still waiting.

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Choosing to Declutter

Is “spring cleaning” a real thing?

For some, this annual purging is what marks the official emergence from the dark survival mode of winter. It’s a time to step into the bright and hopeful newness of a fresh season. It’s a regenerated start, embracing warmth, sunshine, flowers, and cleansing breezes fluttering the curtains in open windows.

But when did all this grime on the glass clouding my vision accumulate? This layer of dust stirring up my allergies? Actually, there’s a whole lot of debris, disorder, and unnecessary stuff in here. A deep cleaning is in order. It will surely reinvigorate and help inspire a new perspective on life!

Yes, this is how some people think.

But not everyone.

Few people, if any, consciously enjoy dirt and disorder. There are, however, situations and conditions that predispose individuals to accept the accumulation of crud and inconsequential items as necessary, or at least preferred over expending the energy needed to do dispose of it all. Effective cleaning, be it ridding a room of useless kitsch, allergen-carrying particles, or sickness-causing germs takes intentionality as well as a bit of passion. One must hate or at least strongly dislike the negative impact of accruing unnecessary stuff. The Mayo Clinic website has as article describing what is called “Hoarding Disorder.” Excessively acquiring items that are not needed or for which there is no space. It creates health, safety, and social problems. And when the person cannot see it as a bad situation, it typically gets worse and doesn’t usually end well, on multiple levels.

While I am not an impulsive cleaner, I have come to appreciate an uncluttered and sanitized house. This is primarily due to being married to someone who is passionate about cleaning and organizing (and not just in the springtime). I sometimes argue with her about the things she wants to get rid of. “We may need that someday.” “It will feel weird to not have that.” “But that reminds me of things I don’t want to forget.” Or “That just sounds like too much work.” In the end, however, it feels good to have a living environment that is free of unnecessary stuff. And rarely do I ever miss any of it (especially the dirt).

Another Level of Cleaning

The house of one’s heart can have the same needs as a physical home. We accumulate spiritual pathogens as well as emotional baggage and debris over time. Especially through the dark winters of life, unhealthy stuff clings to us. And many of us just continue to live with it all, even when deep down we know it’s time for a seasonal change, not realizing that there is a cleansing process available.

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Choosing Redemption for My Imagination

It was a cold night in late October when I saw Saint Basil’s Cathedral in Moscow, Russia with my own eyes. I was carrying my one-year-old son, and my wife had the hands of our other two small children as we hurried across Red Square. We had only one evening in Moscow before heading home, and we wanted to see the changing of the guard at Vladimir Lenin’s tomb. The sun had already set, and we were late for the beginning of the formal procedure. But once we got there, it was the cathedral off to the left that drew my attention. I was struck with a sense of awe. I had seen photos all my life. Yet it was when I stood there next to it with the multiple spotlights illuminating the bright colors that I was overcome with the wonder and beauty of this 16th century piece of architecture. I remember thinking, “This was at one time just an idea in somebody’s head. And now, here it is, a physical reality!”

From what I have read, the first Czar, Ivan the Terrible, commissioned it to be built. But the architect remains unknown. One story says that Ivan, in his determination to make sure the cathedral remained forever unique, had the nameless designer blinded so he would be unable to duplicate his masterpiece. Yes, there are reasons Czar Ivan carried the unpleasant name that he did.

Seeing What Does Not Yet Exist

Remembering Saint Basil’s Cathedral gets me pondering the wonder of the human imagination. What did God have in mind when He gave people the capacity to create? The act of generating something new involves bringing into being that which was previously an intangible idea. Ultimately, everything that has been made or shaped by human hands at one time was merely a notion in someone’s thoughts or dreams.

Stuff that did not exist became “realities” through the process of imagining “What if?” There was a time when things like gunpowder, the compass, the airplane, the space shuttle, and even the internet were not. But the movie screen of the human imagination pictured them, or at least the need or desire for something like them. And from there, individuals simply started acting on what they “saw,” and new things, wonderful things, came into existence.

Creativity is so cool!

The Dark Side?

But there’s another aspect to it. The “What if?” question that is so closely linked to the imagination can have a less desirable application as well. When the movie screen of my mind is allowed to project potential scenarios based on fear, anxiety, pain, selfishness, or just plain evil, things more ominous can come into being. Similar to positive creation, all it takes is for me to begin to act on the darker images flashed onto the walls of my mind, and grim realities that weren’t there before begin to take shape.

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Choosing a Divine Family

I was attending college in Southern California when I had my first discussion with a Muslim about the nature of God. He was from Iran, highly intelligent and very polite. After listening to my stumbling words trying to explain the Holy Trinity, using my Sunday-school knowledge, he asked a one-word question: “Why?” I had learned the quaint analogy of the Trinity being like the three components of shell, yoke and white making one egg. There was also the one compound of water expressed in its three forms of liquid, steam, and ice. But no one had ever explained to me WHY the Trinity was important for my understanding of God. Was it? Or did it merely operate as a theoretical abstraction that needlessly divided people? I was speechless. My friend smiled but was kind and let the matter drop.

Several years later as my relationship with God was deepening, I came back to this topic. Besides Muslims, I had since bumped into Unitarians and Jehovah’s Witnesses who ridiculed the absurdity of worshiping “three gods.” It was intellectually embarrassing. Was this Christian doctrine necessary for my faith? It certainly wasn’t convenient for my logic. I needed to explore it in earnest.

Why Trinity?

The first thing I realized was that the word “Trinity” is not in the Bible. It was coined by early Christians to describe a head-scratching phenomenon that careful study of the biblical documents revealed. Not only were there passages that stated there is only one God (Deuteronomy 4:32, Mark 12:29), there were passages where Heavenly Father was referred to as God (Isaiah 64:8, Galatians 1:1, Ephesians 4:4-6), passages where Jesus was referred to as God (John 10:30, Philippians 2:5-6, Colossians 1:15-17), and passages where the Holy Spirit was referred to as God (Acts 5:3-4, Ephesians 4:30, 2 Corinthians 3:17). How could this be? Some might have thought these were just the result of unreliable manuscripts. But others understood that an important aspect of God’s nature was being disclosed. They took the word for “three” (tri) and the word for “unity” and squeezed them together to form a description that in English is known as Trinity (Tri-unity)—three united as one.

There were a lot of people that didn’t like this understanding of the divine; it didn’t make sense to them. One guy in particular named Arius (Google him) led an opposition movement. He explained that Jesus was not an eternal being of the same divine substance as God the Father who had no beginning. Instead, Jesus must have been God’s very first creation—a powerful but limited, angelic-like being. This idea was easier on many people’s brains and Arianism gained a large following.

Another guy named Athanasius (Google him too) became the outspoken challenger to the teachings of Arius. Besides pointing out the scriptures that reference Jesus as God, Athanasius was concerned about our whole understanding of salvation. He wondered, if Jesus Himself was not fully God, what good did His death do in saving us from our sin? By stripping Jesus of divinity, Athanasius understood that our redemption would be empty and meaningless because only God Himself is holy enough to atone for all the sin of humankind. 

In the end, the relentless determination of Athanasius won out, and the Western, Eastern and Coptic Churches rejected Arianism and embraced a purely Trinitarian understanding of God. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit all have no beginning, no end, and work together so perfectly that they are rightly referred to as One.

And yet, I wasn’t satisfied.

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Choosing to Fight Fear

I woke this morning and didn’t feel like getting up. Yes, my body was sore from some recent ambitious exercise. But that wasn’t the reason I wanted to stay in bed. I realize now that I was wrestling with fear. I was feeling apprehension over the outbreak of war and all the uncertainties that accompany that. I was feeling anxious that we are going to run out of money. I was worried that there are things I should be doing that I’m not. I was feeling afraid that somehow I have missed my life calling, though I don’t know what else that might be. Remaining under the blankets felt like the overall best option for the day.

I finally decided to get up and make coffee for my wife. While standing there grinding the beans, my thoughts turned to Psalm 46, which I have been meditating on the past few days. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea…” I began to feel better.

Fear versus Courage

Angst lurks around every corner seeking to entrap us. I still wonder if this pandemic will ever be completely over. Inflation is stretching finances thinner and thinner. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine adds to the circumstances that create fertile soil for fear of all kinds. And once we give in to one it seems that there are 20 more pushing behind it. Feelings of fear quickly multiply when we let them. But how do we stop it all? Winston Churchill supposedly said, “Fear is a reaction. Courage is a decision.”

I agree. Fear seems to pounce without warning, giving the impression that we have no option but to submit and let it maul us. Courage, however, is a choice to defy fear—act the opposite. Rarely, if ever, do I feel courageous. So, I can’t count on my feelings to come around. It was the cold decision to get out of bed this morning that challenged my paralyzing thoughts. In the same way I must actively choose to fight any fear that would try to dominate me during this season.

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