I am astounded at the measure of my own selfishness.
It's so easy to buy into the social ideas of getting ahead, and I'm tired of being surrounded by people who base their decisions on what will benefit them the most personally. Quite frankly, that is no longer the kind of person I want to be.
What if we are measured not by our ability to self-preserve, but our ability to self-destruct for the good of others? What I mean is, what if it's not about me at all?
Any "good" Christian (what does that mean anyway?) knows the greatest commandment is to "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind." And of course the second greatest commandment, "Love your neighbor as yourself." But I wonder how many of us have missed the significance of the sentence that follows this famous passage: "Do this and you will live." (luke 10:27-28 NIV)
So you mean to tell me that I am only living when I'm living for God and others, not myself?
Now there's a development in the Christian community that is all about learning to love yourself, because we can't love our neighbor as ourselves until we learn to love ourselves. On on hand, there is some legitimacy to this concept, but on the other, we're still screwing up the focus. I would venture to say that even those who exhibit the extreme tendencies of both self-indulgence and self-destruction are doing so out of self-love, however twisted their vision of it may be.
Maybe what we need to do, what I need to do, is not to learn to "love" myself, but to learn to see myself the way God sees me. Which, of course, involves more about learning the heart and character of God than it does of learning anything about me. The discoveries we make of ourselves should be residual effects to our pursuit of the knowledge of God. Then and only then can we see ourselves through His perspective.
So what does He see when he looks my direction? Hebrews 10:10 tells us "we have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all" So the answer is, He sees us through Christ (because it's ALL about Him). He sees grace, and he loves us through grace.
Now if occurs to me that if living is not about me, then I will only find satisfaction in my life if I'm serving God and others. This is not about a quest to find myself and where I fit in this world.
I think it means starting out small, granting grace to the driver who cuts me off, or the friend who hurts me, not saying what I feel because it will do more harm than good, and doing something I don't enjoy because it brings joy to someone else. I think it means praying about people instead of talking about them, and proactively reaching out to them instead of intentionally avoiding them.
Maybe it's not taking advantage of God's grace for me by doing what I want to, maybe it's pushing the limits of that grace for the benefit of those I encounter.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Counter-Sub-Culture
About 2 months ago I read an editorial article in the magazine Relevant that was discussing the failure of Christianity to exist as a counter-culture and it's subsequent integration into the mainstream as a sub-culture. That really got me thinking.
Subculture is a group of people with a culture which differentiates them from the larger culture to which they belong. They are social with their own shared conventions, values and rituals. What's important to note is that a subculture does not at it's root typically conflict with the mainstream, it is merely a dialect of the social language.
Enter the counterculture which is characterized by its systematic opposition to the dominant culture, in other words, the values are inherently counter to the social mainstream of the day.
I think most of us feel perfectly content existing as a Christian subculture. We get our own bookstores, we get the freedom to worship as we please in big comfortable buildings, we get tax-exemption status, and we get celebrities and politicians with our Christian title that we can feel OK about lining up behind. We get health, wealth, and the relative protection of our government because we are playing by the societal rules.
Unfortunately, we also have to make some sacrifices in the interest of the constitutional rights afforded to all subcultures. We do not get the ability to put up our ten commandments on a courthouse wall, because neither does any other subculture. We do not get the ability to pronounce our gospel or our God as the only way, because neither does any other subculture. And so on and so forth.
Realistically, there are a lot of things we have to sacrifice in order to be a subculture, and I wonder if it's even possible to really be a follower of Christ in this day and age and not be counter-cultural.
It seems to me that Jesus is a case-study in counterculture, not out of obsitance or a desire to be different, simply because the Way that He prescribed as the Truth IS different at it's very core from the social norm. Seriously, can you proclaim to be the only Way, Truth and Life without being countercultural, really?
Whoever heard of generousity being the moderator of equality? But Jesus says it is. It's contrary to our basic American idea of "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" to say that we should do what is best for others over ourselves, that we should give instead of hoard, sacrifice instead of preserve, and pursue peace instead of assert our rights. But Christ taught us to do all these things if we would have His Kingdom come on Earth as it is in Heaven.
You see, real Christianity is inherently countercultural to the American way of life. Treating it as a subculture effectively kills it. We have become "luke-warm" by attempting to blend in to the cultural landscape. And ironically, we have forsaken the call to become "all things to all people" by trying to make the gospel relevant instead of just living it and letting everyone see how relevant it is.
We should fear the comfortable existence of our faith in society, not the persecution of it. I mean, come on, our ultimate role model and Teacher was killed because of what He taught and lived, and so were all of his closest companions. But it's ok for us to live in a pocket of pleasure and societal acceptance, never venturing out or swimming against the current of cultural teaching, even though He said we WOULD be persecuted for our faith and we should count it all joy?
Jesus is relevant, and the proof of that is in the way He meets the needs that nothing else in our indulgent, materialistic, self-centered society is able to do, no matter how long and hard we pursue them. That is what we need to live. We are not the change we want to see in the world. Christ is the change the world needs, we are simply the hands and feet of that change. If we will not be afraid to be it.
Subculture is a group of people with a culture which differentiates them from the larger culture to which they belong. They are social with their own shared conventions, values and rituals. What's important to note is that a subculture does not at it's root typically conflict with the mainstream, it is merely a dialect of the social language.
Enter the counterculture which is characterized by its systematic opposition to the dominant culture, in other words, the values are inherently counter to the social mainstream of the day.
I think most of us feel perfectly content existing as a Christian subculture. We get our own bookstores, we get the freedom to worship as we please in big comfortable buildings, we get tax-exemption status, and we get celebrities and politicians with our Christian title that we can feel OK about lining up behind. We get health, wealth, and the relative protection of our government because we are playing by the societal rules.
Unfortunately, we also have to make some sacrifices in the interest of the constitutional rights afforded to all subcultures. We do not get the ability to put up our ten commandments on a courthouse wall, because neither does any other subculture. We do not get the ability to pronounce our gospel or our God as the only way, because neither does any other subculture. And so on and so forth.
Realistically, there are a lot of things we have to sacrifice in order to be a subculture, and I wonder if it's even possible to really be a follower of Christ in this day and age and not be counter-cultural.
It seems to me that Jesus is a case-study in counterculture, not out of obsitance or a desire to be different, simply because the Way that He prescribed as the Truth IS different at it's very core from the social norm. Seriously, can you proclaim to be the only Way, Truth and Life without being countercultural, really?
Whoever heard of generousity being the moderator of equality? But Jesus says it is. It's contrary to our basic American idea of "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" to say that we should do what is best for others over ourselves, that we should give instead of hoard, sacrifice instead of preserve, and pursue peace instead of assert our rights. But Christ taught us to do all these things if we would have His Kingdom come on Earth as it is in Heaven.
You see, real Christianity is inherently countercultural to the American way of life. Treating it as a subculture effectively kills it. We have become "luke-warm" by attempting to blend in to the cultural landscape. And ironically, we have forsaken the call to become "all things to all people" by trying to make the gospel relevant instead of just living it and letting everyone see how relevant it is.
We should fear the comfortable existence of our faith in society, not the persecution of it. I mean, come on, our ultimate role model and Teacher was killed because of what He taught and lived, and so were all of his closest companions. But it's ok for us to live in a pocket of pleasure and societal acceptance, never venturing out or swimming against the current of cultural teaching, even though He said we WOULD be persecuted for our faith and we should count it all joy?
Jesus is relevant, and the proof of that is in the way He meets the needs that nothing else in our indulgent, materialistic, self-centered society is able to do, no matter how long and hard we pursue them. That is what we need to live. We are not the change we want to see in the world. Christ is the change the world needs, we are simply the hands and feet of that change. If we will not be afraid to be it.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Reflections Over the Face of the Deep
This morning I was reflecting on the story of Noah and the Ark, in particular, the point in the narrative where the 40 days and nights of relentless rain and storms had finally ended and Noah & Co. were adrift atop an endless sea.
I kinda picture Noah holed up in a corner of the ship miraculously not occupied by one of the "two by two's", carving into the gopher wood an account of the day's events. Day 1-40 would probably have read like a forecast from the Weather Channel in Seattle (but without the snazzy jazz music bed)...Rain, rain, more rain, and what? It's still raining.
But then there was Day 41: Stopped raining! Ready to step off this dingy and kiss the ground!
Not so soon! 150 days later the water finally receded enough that the ark could settle on top of a mountain. 40 days after that and Noah figures that he can send out a bird and see if it finds somewhere to land, but the poor little guy wears his wings out flying around to no avail. A week later. Take two. This time the dove returns with an olive branch. HOPE! Don't you think the ark was rockin that night! 'Nother week and the bird doesn't come back at all.
I haven't been able to get that little bird out of my head. After weathering the storms and all that rain. After flying, and flying, and flying, straining to see a landmark, a sign of life, any evidence that there was anything but this vast, lifeless ocean. After unrelenting pursuit of the promise that God would save and restore, renew and rebuild, reward and refresh, there it is. There it is. At last a little patch of dry ground, a place where it is safe to make a nest.
Maybe it's just that it's easy for me to identify with that bird. Finally the storms have ended and there is an expanse of blue sky where I can stretch my wings. But there is not yet a destination, not yet a sign of things to come, just my reflection in the deep blue below me, taunting with a pantomime of my movements as I peer into it, looking for a sign of life.
Who knows how long I must fly, how far I must travel until the waters recede. But they will. They will and they will reveal new mountains to climb, new lands to be traversed on the journey.
Who knows what epic adventures the future holds. But for now, I'm just a little bird in the big blue sky.
(Genesis 6-8 contains the story of Noah. Check it out)
I kinda picture Noah holed up in a corner of the ship miraculously not occupied by one of the "two by two's", carving into the gopher wood an account of the day's events. Day 1-40 would probably have read like a forecast from the Weather Channel in Seattle (but without the snazzy jazz music bed)...Rain, rain, more rain, and what? It's still raining.
But then there was Day 41: Stopped raining! Ready to step off this dingy and kiss the ground!
Not so soon! 150 days later the water finally receded enough that the ark could settle on top of a mountain. 40 days after that and Noah figures that he can send out a bird and see if it finds somewhere to land, but the poor little guy wears his wings out flying around to no avail. A week later. Take two. This time the dove returns with an olive branch. HOPE! Don't you think the ark was rockin that night! 'Nother week and the bird doesn't come back at all.
I haven't been able to get that little bird out of my head. After weathering the storms and all that rain. After flying, and flying, and flying, straining to see a landmark, a sign of life, any evidence that there was anything but this vast, lifeless ocean. After unrelenting pursuit of the promise that God would save and restore, renew and rebuild, reward and refresh, there it is. There it is. At last a little patch of dry ground, a place where it is safe to make a nest.
Maybe it's just that it's easy for me to identify with that bird. Finally the storms have ended and there is an expanse of blue sky where I can stretch my wings. But there is not yet a destination, not yet a sign of things to come, just my reflection in the deep blue below me, taunting with a pantomime of my movements as I peer into it, looking for a sign of life.
Who knows how long I must fly, how far I must travel until the waters recede. But they will. They will and they will reveal new mountains to climb, new lands to be traversed on the journey.
Who knows what epic adventures the future holds. But for now, I'm just a little bird in the big blue sky.
(Genesis 6-8 contains the story of Noah. Check it out)
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