What God Wants For Your Life

I wasn’t looking for an illustration of the ways in which the church can be hurtful, but this one found me:

http://experts.patheos.com/expert/frederickwschmidt/?p=174&preview=true

“You may be dying, but you should hear what’s happening to me.”

“Well, enough about me, what do you think about me?”

People don’t really say that kind of thing, do they? Actually, yes, they often do.

Maybe not in so many words. But, if you listen to the shape of many conversations, you will often find that someone threw out a lifeline, looked for hope, searched for a friend, or tried to get to the bottom of something that was troubling them, and all they got in return was competition for the Misery Sweepstakes: “You think you’ve got it bad, I…”

Far too many conversations are not really conversations at all. They are alternating soliloquies —each person poised to say what they were going to say, regardless of what was just said. Among people swapping stories about grandchildren, airline travel, or the fish that got away that’s not necessarily a bad thing. But when the subject is serious or someone is desperate, that’s another matter.

When someone is in pain, listening to others, drawing them out, and walking with them through life’s messiness and puzzles is a spiritual discipline and a gift. And it is usually a gift to both parties.

Yes, it requires setting aside our own concerns for a moment. It requires that we trust our own fears to God’s care while we stand along side someone else who might be afraid. And, frankly, it requires denying ourselves. (I’ve heard that phrase somewhere before.) But when we do, others are helped and so are we.

Out of that gift of listening, caring, asking questions, and sitting with one another’s pain arises spiritual wisdom and a sense of God’s presence. The results are not always dramatic. Lightening doesn’t always strike. Angels don’t always sing. But none of that needs to happen for us to give that gift.

And it always beats winning the misery sweepstakes.

Are demons real? Yes.

Are they Individual, identifiable and possess a power of their own? Are they able to override and overrun the innocent without their cooperation, as in the film “Rosemary’s Baby”? No, I don’t think so.

William Benefield, who is a friend and psychopharmacologist observes,

“…all of this talk of the Enemy and demons can be uncomfortable for me, living in the current century and after formal study in the scientific method. Most demons and devils I have encountered in patients within my own profession of psychopharmacology I have been able to treat with modern antipsychotics and mood stabilizers…. Now in my own spiritual formation as I delve into my inner self, my own ‘drug resistant demons’ become more real to me in my psyche.”

I share his reservations. I also have a theological problem with some of the language that we use about demons: The only real, identifiable being with power of its own is God. Every other power on earth either depends upon the power of God, or operates in the shadow of God’s absence. So, to talk about demons as if they have a power all their own is the stuff of horror stories, not theology.

But my friend is also right. Some demons are “drug resistant.” Hitler’s Germany, Idi Amin’s Uganda, Cambodia’s Pol Pot come to mind.

That’s also the reason why the language of devils, demons, and evil is so important. When we give ourselves to desires and designs that are aligned against the will of God, the evil we do acquires a consuming force all its own. Although we may be able to account for the ferocity of it to some degree in sociological, psychological, or political categories, the sum is often greater than the parts. In the spiritual world sometimes 2+2 equals 8. The language of demons, devils, and evil then becomes profoundly important in naming the spiritual and moral issues at stake — as well as the very real dangers that they present.

In the end, it is always our choices that provide evil with an opening.

This post appears with others in answer to the question, “Are demons real?”, and can be found at:

http://www.patheos.com/Resources/Additional-Resources/Are-Demons-Real.html

In the July-August edition of the Harvard Business Review the editors featured an article by HBS Professor Clay Christensen.  Entitled “How will you measure your life?” the article was something of a phenomenon.  Hundreds of thousands went on line to read the article and journalists around the world picked up on themes from it, including David Brooks, who writes for the New York Times. The editorial staff of HBR was so taken with the response that they chose to leave the article on their website through the month of October.  They went on to observe that since his article was published Professor Christensen has faced even bigger challenges than those posed by the world of commerce.  He was diagnosed as having follicular lymphoma and, a short time later, suffered an ischemic stroke.

What struck me was the way in which the editor introduced the on-line version of the article:

“Though Christensen’s thinking comes from his deep religious faith, we believe that these are strategies anyone can use.”

The “though” or “although” in that sentence is something that I often hear when people talk about religious convictions and it could and often does mean a lot of things:

“Although you might not be religious, you may find something helpful here.”

“Although I am not religious, I found something helpful here.”

But it can also mean:

“Although it’s religious, it’s still helpful.”

In all fairness to the editorial staff at HBR, I have no idea how many of those implied meanings might have been hiding behind the language.  But there are other times when I have no doubt that what people mean is, “Although it’s religious, it’s still helpful.”

The problem with this language is that “although” is not the same thing as “because.”  When people like Professor Christensen write out a deep faith, they arrived there “because” of their convictions, not in spite of them.  I don’t know him, but I suspect that is also what sustains him in these days of recovery.

There is wisdom to be had from religious convictions that cannot be achieved by any other means.  Believing something about the existence and nature of God — and with it, a number of other things about the nature and purpose of human life — profoundly re-shapes the way in which we see the world.  It isn’t a disposable vehicle for achieving insights that can be had some other way.  There are times when you are either religious or you aren’t, and you get it or you don’t.

Too often our culture fails to grasp this elemental point, privileging anything but religious wisdom.  No one would say, “Although Professor So-and-So is a secular humanist, there is something of value here.”  There is ideological resistance to religious convictions that approximates a religious conviction of its own kind, and it is often as intolerant and unwilling to listen as any religious fundamentalism ever dreamed of being.

Could it be, then, that readers won’t entirely understand the wisdom of Professor Christensen’s article without taking into account his religious beliefs?  Probably not.  Although is not because.

http://hbr.org/2010/07/how-will-you-measure-your-life/ar/1

According to Nelson Henderson, “The true meaning of life is to plant trees under whose shade you do not expect to sit.”  He is remembered only because his son Wes wrote a fairly simple and poorly edited work chronicling his family’s life in the Swan River Valley of Canada.  Henderson moved from Ireland to settle in Ontario, moved further west to settle in Manitoba.  He fought in the trenches during World War I and returned to marry, farm, and raise three children.

Perhaps the most enduring lesson of the book was this single aphorism that his son Wes attributes to his father.  But if you were going to be remembered for a single sentiment, there are worse life philosophies for which to be remembered.

Most of us are taught to assume that the efforts we make in this life should somehow rebound to our own credit.  And most of the goals we are encouraged to achieve are closely associated with the narrow horizons of our own lives.  Some of us, sadly, even measure what succeeding generations should or should not have based upon our own fortunes.

But in a very real sense, a developed spirituality leads us into a life poured out for others, lived in the hope that subsequent generations will benefit from our efforts — whatever the gain might be in our own lifetime. If that sounds like the life of Jesus, it is hardly a coincidence.

But Henderson’s image might provide a new window into his life that provides us a fresh perspective.  When we talk about the sacrifice of Jesus we tend to think in categories that apply to him alone as Son of God or as Savior, or we think in terms of the ultimate sacrifice that Jesus made on the cross.

But in identifying with our lives, there was also something far more mundane, commonplace, and daily in the shape of his spirituality — planting trees whose shade he knew he would not enjoy.  It was that self giving that shaped not just a few moments in his life, but shaped the character of the way in which he lived

And that is something we can all do.

Ken Hakuta is an inventor and the host of “The Dr. Fad Show,” a children’s show devoted to conversations about inventions.  That’s the extent of what I know about Mr. Hakuta, but he makes an important observation:

“Lack of money is no obstacle.  Lack of an idea is an obstacle.”

Depending on your life’s circumstances, Mr. Hakuta’s observation could be heard in more than one way:

You might hear him telling you:

“You talk a lot about money being an obstacle.  That’s not an obstacle.  The real obstacle is the absence of ideas.  You already have an idea, so now what are you going to do?”

Heard from that perspective, Mr. Hakuta’s observation is invitation to find a strategy for implementing your idea.

Listening from another place in life, you might hear him saying:

“You talk about money being an obstacle, but that’s no obstacle.  You would only be facing a real obstacle if you didn’t have an idea.  So, don’t let limited resources hold you back.  You have an idea, devote what you have to the effort.”

Heard from this perspective, Mr. Hakuta’s words are a call to arms, the resolve to act.

Listening from still another perspective, what you might hear is this:

“You talk about money being an obstacle, that’s no obstacle. But you have an idea and all you talk about is money.  Stop stalling.”

Heard from that perspective, Mr. Hakuta’s words are a challenge, a call to commitment.

Over the past few years I have lost count of the number of people who complain that they don’t have the money needed to accomplish what God has called them to do.  It has become a national epidemic — a rationale for diminished dreams, an excuse for smaller visions and diminished dreams.

Don’t live there.

Are you out of ideas?  Ask God for help in finding one.

Do you have a God-given vision, but are afraid to pursue it?  Press ahead with the resources you have.

Do you have an idea, but you just aren’t committed?

Well, that’s a problem — but it isn’t an obstacle.

So, what are my prayers for you?

Three things.

I pray that you don’t let the breadth of what you don’t know or what you don’t understand keep you from living out of what you know.

I pray that you will find the balance in your life that comes from truth that loves and love that speaks the truth.

And, I pray that you won’t let a misplaced fear of the truth keep you from drawing close to God… who loves you better than you love yourself.

Truth also frees.  And here, as with love, there is a good deal of confusion.

For many God’s truth is considered limiting.  Tell me the truth about God and God’s desire for my life and all that will happen is that God will take things away from me.

We have an inner city ministry here in Dallas called Austin Street Shelter.  The leaders there have a reputation for insisting that their drug addicted and alcohol dependent clients face their demons.  But when you refer someone to them, you will often get this answer: “Oh, no sir, I’m not going there.  They make you get off the stuff.”    The truth feels limiting to some and to all of us at some point.  But, of course, the reality is that if we embraced the truth, we would be free for the first time.

God’s truth never robs you of anything important and it never takes legitimate loves away from you.  It does order our loves and it does see through the falsehoods that enslave us.

Truth frees.

It is common to hear people play truth and love off against one another.  Some argue that truth is all that matters.  Others argue that love is the only thing that counts.

In the early Christian tradition, however, truth and love are described as necessary and complementary.  The reason is clear: Truth without love can be cruel, overbearing, and judgmental.  Love in the absence of truth is flaccid and degenerates all to easily into condescension and pity.  Without truth, we run the risk of loving one another into a life that is beneath us.

Put another way, truth (at its best) loves.

I have watched people over the years forget this.  When they do, they defend their right to their opinion; they deliver messages, they are incapable of conversation; and what they know — even if they are right from time to time — is on display.  That kind of truth is easily corrupted.  It is truth that is capable of stunning arrogance and pride.  It is the kind of truth that kills.

Truth that loves is marked by humility.  When it is spoken it is offered, clearly and in a forthright way, but never with the intention to hurt or control.

It is a difficult balance to achieve and no one achieves that balance every time.  But the flight from truth into love without a truth is not the solution.

Truth loves and love must speak the truth.

Dead data.

That is the dominant, contemporary, sterile notion of truth.  The notion that truth can be accumulated and stock-piled.  You don’t even need to decide which parts of it are important, never mind act on it.  Think Wikipedia.

But in Scripture truth is actualized and lived.  And if it isn’t, then it isn’t truth yet —- not in a sense that matters.

Deuteronomy, for example, urges the children of Israel, “Teach your children the Law and to do it.” The last phrase is added over and over again, because it stresses a fundamental truth about truth.

A truth doesn’t matter until you live it.