Choosing Effective Protection
Masks. How effective are they? The debate continues. Since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic various coverings have been introduced in the attempt to protect against spreading the dreaded virus. Face shields. N95 masks. Full-body hazmat suits. The latter two fall under the category generally known as PPE: personal protection equipment. The full outfit, worn mainly by frontline medical workers, is quite intimidating when put on, and from what I’ve been told, not very comfortable. Yet it provides people with a greater sense of security, and along the way has likely saved some lives. But, what is the best way for average people to protect themselves? The answer hinges on what an individual sees as the real danger. Depending on the threat, the right protective covering can make all the difference. And it is especially true when battling an unseen enemy.
There are other invisible dangers in this world besides parasitic microbes. Yes, a pandemic is scary when we’re not sure where or how we might be infected. But what about the infestation of “spiritual viruses” that have eternal consequences? Do we as Jesus followers take them as seriously as we do nefarious microorganisms? These non-material adversaries also threaten us daily but assault the soul. They leave people broken, confused and completely lost: lies that are believed; shame and guilt that never leave; doubts; pride; fears; loneliness; despair. We have a spiritual enemy that spreads all this and more.
The Apostle Paul laid out God’s provision for our protection against such insidious infections and attacks in Ephesians 6:10-18. This passage envisions our struggle against unseen forces as a battle. Our survival, well-being and victory depend on our making use of armor that protects us from a hidden enemy intent on our destruction, or at least our ineffectiveness. The PPE that Paul outlines follows what was ancient-Roman battle gear. But the imagery is still applicable for Jesus followers today who are aware that spiritual sickness and brokenness are just as bad as, if not worse than, physical infirmity.
What is God’s Personal Protection Equipment for us?
The Belt of Truth (Ephesians 6:14a)
A lot of Jesus followers still carry debilitating burdens. Much of the baggage is rooted in the disinformation we believe about ourselves, the world around us, and particularly the nature and character of God. The power of a lie is that it feels true, and we then organize our lives around it. And when we rely primarily on what feels right within to determine what is real without, we are in danger of believing the wrong thing about so many life issues. Our lives easily end up stuck in places we never intended or wanted to be.
My baseline for reality must be grounded in something outside myself. Just as the other pieces of a Roman soldier’s armor were supported by and connected into his belt, truth for a Jesus follower is what binds the rest of God’s PPE together. If I am believing false stuff, particularly about my identity and who God is, nothing in my faith walk is secure. Jesus said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). He is the One who must define truth for me—what He says, what He does, what He reveals—regardless what I feel at any given moment. Am I cinching the truth of Jesus more tightly around me? It holds everything else up afterall.
Read MoreChoosing to Take Temptation Seriously
No matter how hard I try, why are some things so difficult to resist? Overeating? Harsh responses to those who correct me? Anxiety about the future? I know how I should respond, what I’m supposed to do, and what I ought to feel. But that rarely gives me what I need to actually do it and never provides what is necessary to truly feel it. No matter what they say, will power alone does not have what it takes to change me and keep me strong against all the types of temptation that push on me.
A 15th Century German-Dutch follower of Jesus named Thomas á Kempis wrote, “The beginning of all evil temptations is a mind not firmly fixed on its purpose…”* I have pondered what this means for quite a while now, and I think brother Thomas has something to teach us. The understanding of my purpose is rooted in the understanding of my identity. Who and what I believe myself to be forms the foundation for all that I do and why I do it. But to make it a bit more complex, it’s not just what I believe about my purpose and identity that is key. The essential point is that these beliefs are what motivate me and they, in turn, shape me. I act according to who and what I interpret myself to be. My identity informs all that I do. How I view myself and my purpose then becomes that which determines how I make all my life decisions.
What’s the Connection?
So, what might be the relationship between temptation and what I believe about myself and my purpose? I have come to see that that which I most identify with makes up the integral part of the blueprint of the desires and feelings I submit to as well as those I resist. If I see myself fundamentally as someone suffering because of my environment and other people’s choices over which I have no control, I will find it difficult to resist the temptation to see myself as a victim. And I will more easily submit to resentment and bitterness, feeling stuck, like I have no other choice.
If, however, I understand myself primarily as one who is loved and valued, I can see more options when I make decisions. My purpose can more easily come into focus by believing there are those who believe in me. What I root my identity in and draw my sense of purpose from contribute greatly to whether or not I am emotionally stable. Purpose and identity are shaped by these mindsets that have captured my allegiance.
The Key to Resisting
Temptation then, particularly what brother Thomas calls “evil temptations,” gets a head start within the mind that is not fixed on its true purpose. And he is speaking here, of course, of the purpose that flows out of what God says about an individual who has embraced His Son, Jesus.
Read MoreChoosing Gentleness
My desire as a boy was to be strong. I was verbally and physically picked on in elementary school. The longing to demonstrate my strength led to a few fights and endless daydreaming of what that day would feel like when I could show the bullies what I had inside me. And there were also the models of “manliness” I was exposed to. Athletic coaches were the most influential. They taught me that to get ahead in sports and in the world, I needed to push harder, and do whatever necessary to be better than the person in front of me. Success would come to those who could overpower the next guy. My cumulative adolescent understanding was that strength was proportional to aggression and determination to subdue anyone who stood in my way. But my feelings of weakness always seemed to be the most powerful things within me. And as a result, I never could sustain any personal campaign of viewing myself as a conqueror.
And then there was Jesus. I prayed to surrender my life to Him when I was a boy. But as I read the Bible stories, I couldn’t escape the feeling that He, as my model, was just as weak as me. Pretty disheartening for a kid trying to figure out the secret of vanquishing abusers and proving to everyone, especially myself, that I wasn’t weak. Jesus, afterall, let Himself be bullied and eventually gave Himself up to be killed on a cross. What hope was there for me?
Quiet Strength
I was several years into adulthood before a new perspective began to take shape in my mind. I noticed in certain people what I came to refer to as “quiet strength.” They didn’t flash muscles or aggressive attitudes. But there was an unmistakable solidness in their convictions, purpose, and courage. There were even the ones who were so secure in their inner firmness that they could prefer and let others get ahead of them without coming across as weak and inferior. How could that be?
Read MoreChoosing What I Love
The word ‘love’ in English is quite pliable. I can say that I love my wife and I love pizza, and most people will not accuse me of reducing my spouse to a mere piece of pepperoni nor seeking to marry an Italian meal. The word can refer to a need (a plant “loves” water) or enthusiasm for a particular thing or activity (my son “loves” the Vikings). It can also describe a profoundly tender affection for another (I love my children). In addition, it can reference almost every positive feeling between the two extremes. This flexibility, however, can sometimes lull us into not thinking about what we mean when we use the word. For a follower of Jesus, care in what we say we love and particularly in what we actually do love has important theological, and eternal, implications.
When I talk about the concept of love with others, I like to point out that it is much more than a feeling. It’s a choice. Most people agree in theory but then get a bit uncomfortable when we examine how we actually apply the term. When we use phrases like “falling in love,” or “falling out of love” there’s no getting around the idea that we’re talking about an emotion that can be there one moment and gone another. Such usage leaves the impression that we are helpless victims to this thing we call love. So much of today’s relationships, romantic and otherwise, are centered on what we feel about a person at any given moment, which is in constant flux. And that stirs some deep insecurity in relationships, not to mention the cynicism associated with the word love.
A More Durable Understanding
The biblical presentation of love, however, talks about something more reliable than good and affectionate feelings. How else should we interpret Jesus’ command to “love one another” (John 15:12)? He tells His followers to do it, no qualifications or exceptions. Most people realize that feelings cannot be commanded to come or go. Instead, feelings tend to follow our choices and what we focus our attention on. The love Jesus is talking about, therefore, is something we choose to do. It’s a matter of obeying Him.
A definition I find helpful for this understanding of love is choosing to give the highest good to another. It’s what God does for us and what he tells us to do for others. Sometimes the words that carry the meaning of love the best are I still choose you.
Read MoreChoosing Intimacy
Most of my life growing up, I often felt misunderstood. I tried to relate to those around me by being who I thought they wanted me to be. But it felt like few, if any, ever saw the real me and said, “I like that person.” That took its toll, and I easily withdrew within myself. I became, at best, a private person. I longed for a friend that would accept me for who I was, yet neither did I ever allow the real me, with all my fears, insecurities, and sin to be seen. I built protective walls of shyness to keep the anticipated pain of rejection manageable and as far away as possible. But something within always ached for a connection with another that would provide a reason to open the door of my heart and truly be seen and known.
As a teen, I realized the name of the quality I hungered for was intimacy. Marriage, I then presumed, would satisfy this yearning. A sexual relationship, afterall, is the epitome of closeness and connection. And though it initially seemed to do the trick, I eventually came to an unexpected realization: a person can be married, sleep in the same bed with someone and still feel lonely and disconnected at times.
A Universal Desire
I, like so many, have longed for intimacy in my relationships but have found it elusive. There are moments when it seems to be within my grasp, conversations or activities with a friend or with my wife where the bond feels almost other-worldly. It’s as if we can see into each other’s soul. Yet it doesn’t last, fading with distance and time. I want to believe, however, that those moments are glimpses of what can be mine continuously, forever. But how?
And then there’s my relationship with God.
Read MoreChoosing the Long Way
There’s something gratifying about finding a way to make a long journey shorter. I look to my GPS for help these days. But even as a kid, shortcuts were always appreciated. When I was 12, my friends showed me a quicker way to the store where we could buy candy. It happened to go through a stranger’s backyard and across his patio. I used it many times until an angry man stuck his head out a window and yelled at me, threatening to call the cops. Shortcuts may get me where I want to be sooner, but they can create unforeseen problems as well. Seeking the quicker and easier way can become a mindset and habit that infects all my decision making.
The temptation to reach goals faster, cut corners or bypass steps in a process shows up in a multitude of situations. Businesses consider it by offering lower-quality products. Builders face it when trying to increase their profit margin. Students have to make a choice when they discover a way to cheat on a test and get the ‘A’ with no studying. I fall into it when I’m assembling IKEA furniture and don’t want to take time to read the instructions. Shortcuts offer a more direct path to an objective and the feeling that I have escaped unnecessary suffering or drudgery. But at what hidden cost?
The Easier Path
Jesus was offered a shortcut. It was His third temptation in the desert (for thoughts on the first and second, read Choosing to Not Take the Bait and Choosing to Not Test God). We’re told in Matthew 4:8-11 that the devil took Him to a high mountain where they saw all the kingdoms of the world and said he would give them to Jesus if He would only kneel before Satan. Of course Jesus resisted and told the devil to leave, reminding him that the scriptures instruct us to worship and serve God only. While it’s no surprise that He didn’t give in to Satan, I have wondered what was so attractive about the Evil One’s offer. What could possibly tempt Jesus to bow down to the devil?
Read MoreChoosing Peace
I once read an article by an atheist describing the serenity he felt as he overlooked a beautiful valley while drinking a cup of coffee. The point he was trying to make was that Christians do not have a monopoly on peace. He was irritated with the claim that religion is somehow necessary for a person to have a sense of tranquility. His way of refuting this was to recount the many times he had experienced an internal quiet and harmony with others without any acknowledgement of the divine. His conclusion was that a belief in God is not necessary to feel peacefully calm. And after reading all that he had to say, I had to agree with him. But is there more to it than what he was experiencing?
Jesus followers often talk about the peace that comes over us after surrendering our lives to Him. It’s often part of what we felt was missing in our lives. And it makes sense. Afterall, Jesus the Messiah is called the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6); one of the fruits of the Spirit is peace (Galatians 5:22): and peacemakers will be called the children of God (Matthew 5:9). But what exactly is this quality that is promised all throughout the Bible?
Shalom
The biblical Hebrew word is still used by many modern Israelis as a greeting. Its general sense is that of holistic goodness. The Old Testament presents shalom as a multidimensional quality that includes physical, psychological, social, and spiritual wellbeing. God’s shalom thus adds up to an overall sense of inner security for the person who experiences it, which imparts many benefits. One example is stated in Psalm 4:8. “In peace [shalom] I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety” (ESV). Biblical peace appears to be something that is not created by the individual but comes from God. It also appears that trusting Him is what activates His shalom in our lives.
Read MoreChoosing to Open the Door
In the movies it always looked so easy and nonconsequential. As a kid, I watched shows where chairs got busted over heads in barroom fights with the recipient merely staggering a few paces before flinging his opponent through a wooden railing. And then there were the scenes where a medium-built man with a single blow from his leg kicked a front door wide open. And he never walked with a limp afterwards or stopped to rub the jolted knee or hip joint. Power. It all seemed impressively real until the day I picked up a chair in anger to throw at my brother. Besides being too heavy (fortunately) to lift high enough to toss, I was instantly sobered up with the realization that if the chair did break apart on his head, it would likely kill him. I didn’t even have to experiment with kicking a door to realize that it would take someone with a lot more strength than me to pop a solid oak barrier off its hinges with one swing of the leg.
And yet there is someone with “door-busting” abilities that we should all take notice of.
Jesus began His earthly ministry kicking down obstacles that were raised against Him and His purposes. He ordered demonic interference to be silent and flee. He commanded stormy waters to be calm, unfruitful trees to wither, diseases to leave human bodies, and corpses to come back to life. Nobody had ever displayed such power over nature, physical ailments, spiritual darkness, and death. Nothing seemed to be able to stand in His way. He was truly the archetype man of the movies I pictured as a kid who could not be stopped, no matter what was thrown at Him, no matter the barrier in front of Him. Nothing resisted His will . . . except for one thing.
Read MoreChoosing to Recognize My Own Sin
I remember the first time I stole something. I was six or seven years old, and I walked out of a store with a candy bar in my pocket. When I didn’t get caught and nothing bad happened, I was surprised. As a child I then decided it wasn’t really wrong to take something from someone when you wanted it more than they did. A few years later, however, when my bike was stolen I changed my mind. There was something messed up about the world when people could actually steal from me.
I was on to something. Every philosophy and religion recognize there is something fundamentally wrong with the world. Most, however, disagree on what the fundamental problem is. What exactly is the root of human dysfunction? It’s all around us. Even a child can see there’s something wrong with the way things work.
The word “sin” carries varying definitions and innuendo depending on who uses it. To some, it might mean socially unacceptable behavior, while to others it could be nothing more than a mistake or a weakness. Still others see it as a silly or overly-restrictive, outdated concept that shouldn’t be taken seriously; after all, we have evolved beyond the need for such primitive explanations of the human situation. And then there are those who only see the wrong doing in others, never in themselves.
There is a growing group of people who choose to see sin as having nothing to do with morality but rather understand it to describe an ontological problem: physicality is what’s wrong with the world. If we could find a way to shed our corporeal entanglements and escape to a more pure spiritual state of being, then we would experience “salvation”. Sin or evil, in this way of thinking, is nothing more than being stuck in a material world.
But, how do these varying perspectives account for a world that so easily justifies stealing candy bars and bicycles and much, much worse?
Read MoreChoosing a Forever Life
Music of the rock group Kansas takes me back to my high school days. I particularly remember the hauntingly beautiful harmonies of “Dust in the Wind.” The sound would echo in my head days after I listened to it on the radio. Who could resist humming or singing the mournful tune and wallow in a melancholic puddle of feelings. Supposedly, it was inspired by Native American poetry, an enchanting yet bleak reminder of where our modern materialism takes us. But how many who savored the bittersweet melody back in the 70’s ever really thought about the implications of what it was saying? “All we are is dust in the wind.” Was there a hopeful antidote? Something that could impart substance to our nothingness? Immortality? The song didn’t say, and I never took the time to think too deeply about it.
Why? Because I had my whole life in front of me. As a teenager, I pretty much behaved as if I would live this present life forever (of course, without much thought). No rush to get anything done, make any solid plans, or think about what happens at the end. I had plenty of time to work that all out at some point in the fuzzy future.
What Does the Bible Say?
Interestingly, the scriptures offer some parallel thoughts with the mournful crooning of Kansas. A single human life on this earth is short. Its significance cannot be measured in terms of time spent wandering the globe, the amount of material wealth collected, or the number of tasks performed. When considered in light of the thousands (millions?) of circuits the planet has completed around the sun, 80 years is nothing. While there are many passages that could be quoted, here are three:
Read More
Choose This Day 