“Christianity doesn’t work.”
I’ve been told this more than once. Someone explains why he’s giving up his faith, and it usually has something to do with him not getting what he feels he needs. Typically, references are made to unanswered prayers; troubling questions without satisfactory answers; doctrines that don’t make sense; and of course, there is always that person or group of people who claim to be Christians and are jerks. He simply does not want to be associated with such ignorance or insensitivity anymore. His position is often summed up with a statement like, “Neither the world nor my life has improved because of Christianity. In fact, it’s made everything worse. So I’m moving on.”
So, what makes something workable and worth sticking with it? I don’t know if it’s a Western thing or just a human thing that leads so many in my culture to judge something or someone according to how everything turns out. It is my tendency. If I have an itchy scalp, the question for the new shampoo I’m purchasing is, does it take the itch away? If it doesn’t work it’s not meeting my felt need, and it’s not good for me. This is how I, and I’m sure most people, judge consumer products.
But is it the right way to look at all of life?
Happiness or Something Else?
There is an approach to ethics known as utilitarianism. Right and good actions are decided by what gives the highest sense of happiness, pleasure, or contentment to the greatest number of people. From this way of thinking come phrases like, “whatever makes you happy;” or, “the end justifies the means;” or, to use something my grandmother would have said, “the proof is in the pudding.” It’s all about a desirable product, problems being solved, pain eradicated, everyone happy and feeling better. If, on the other hand, the results of an event or a choice or a relationship is pain, confusion, loss of resources, tension, or widespread dissatisfaction, then it’s natural to call the triggering event “bad.” And if my system of doing things (i.e., my faith) cannot fix it, heal it, or take it away then it’s useless and should be discarded.
Another way of identifying goodness can be framed by the question, “what does the process provide?” This question opens the door to other questions that can help us look a little deeper beneath the “helpful/not helpful” dichotomy. “What can we learn from this?” or “Is there something more valuable here than my getting what I want?”
Read More
Often, the secret to success with any endeavor is learning the basics of a needed task. Trust the tried-and-true process. I believe this can apply to almost any skill. I remember my dad teaching me to wash a car: always start at the top and work down. That basic idea seems to work well for almost any type of cleaning.
Learning to drive a car at age 16, I thought I was a pro within the first couple days. Practicing regulating my speed and judging braking distance felt too basic after my first week behind the wheel. I was itching for “Indy 500” experiences. However, after nearly running off the road while taking corners, almost rear-ending cars in front of me, and having a head-on collision on a dirt road, I finally adjusted my thinking. Maybe I should master the fundamentals before testing how fast I could drive.
Another example was learning to write. My teachers provided the parameters and rules of composition. Correct spelling, no run-on sentences, organized paragraphs, proper punctuation, etc. But it all felt so restricting. I had story ideas and deep thoughts that needed to get on a page. My teachers, however, were turning papers back to me with big red question marks next to most the paragraphs. Were they just too slow-witted to recognize brilliance? After a while, it hit me that I needed to learn to write more clearly. And that meant, among other things, applying the rules they were talking about. My ability to express myself grew as I took their directions seriously and submitted to instructions.
The Disgusting Word
Living within restrictions or boundaries feel unpleasant to most. We look for ways to get around them. It is a growing part of our culture to perceive restraints – particularly restrictions that limit self-expression or the maximizing of personal pleasure – as wrong, and even, evil. And thus, the word “obey” can send waves of disgust, fear, and instant rebellion through many. Yet, learning to work within rules and instructions are so often the key to success and satisfaction.
Read More
It’s a somewhat solemn day of reflection for me. It’s my birthday, and I’m getting old. At least that’s the feeling. I’ve been asking myself for a while if I have found any advantages in getting older, besides cheaper meals at Perkin’s Restaurant. It depends on the day.
I remember my grandfather saying to me multiple times when I was a boy, “Jeff, don’t ever grow old.” This bit of advice was given as he groaned and struggled to get himself out of a chair. Even as a child, I wondered what the options were. Did I have a choice? Aging didn’t and still doesn’t seem to get much positive press. Using the word “old” has become a guaranteed way to insult those with lines around their eyes or gray trimming their temples. Unless you’re a bottle of wine, it’s typically the last thing you want to be called.
“Mature” is now a nice euphemism that doesn’t sound so harsh. But this can be a bit confusing. To be a mature adult can mean a lot of different things. I recently ran across a list of five aspects of maturity:
So, if I’m called a mature man (using the euphemistic term for aging), does that mean I have developed fully in most or all of these five ways? I think almost everyone would agree that the answer is a resounding NO. A long life does not necessarily equal full development of any of these aspects except for maybe the physical part. According to a saying I heard years ago, “Youth is fleeting, but immaturity can last a lifetime.”
Read More
I vividly remember the moment I became a dad. My daughter was a tiny thing, just over five pounds. Holding her, I couldn’t comprehend the strange feelings pulsing inside me. As I looked into her little face, I thought, “I don’t even know you, yet I’m sure I would die for you.”
That was my introduction to the emotions of being a father. I was surprised with the overwhelming affection I felt for this naked, helpless, yet demanding creature. It wasn’t long before another thought rocked my reality. If I, an imperfect human dad, can feel this strongly about my child, then what does my Heavenly Father feel toward me? The thought brought tears. Can I be loved with such strong affection by a holy, all-powerful God? And just as I was getting lost in these reflections, something warm ran down my arm. My precious little girl had peed on me. But did that change how I felt about her? Not in the slightest!
Read More
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, I was always looking for a short cut. 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. Looking for the quicker and easier way becomes 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 everywhere. Businesses consider it by offering lower-quality products. Builders face it when trying to increase profit margins. 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 a goal and the feeling that I have escaped unnecessary suffering or drudgery. But at what hidden cost?
Read More
It’s a simple but often maligned and misunderstood word. To be considered humble is a compliment for some and an insult for others. It’s frequently associated with being soft spoken, self-deprecating, and wallowing in low self-esteem. While many people consider it a virtue of some kind, few of us are out there actively seeking to increase our humility. We intuitively know that something about the process is not going to feel good. And if someone recognizes that more humility is needed and wants to obtain it, it’s a rare person that has any idea of how to go about increasing it.
One of the reasons more people don’t seek it is that they don’t really know exactly what it is. So many of us look to certain feelings within to assure ourselves that we have the virtues we think are important. Yet the virtues of the Christian faith are much more about choosing than feeling. I have often invited students in my classes to stand up and be humble for a few moments. The clever ones will respond by saying that if they stand while everyone else is sitting, then they’re lifting themselves above the others and therefore not humble. But most of them just scratch their heads in puzzlement. Even if it is a feeling, how can a person create it at will?
How does one choose to be humble?
Read More