The Great Man Theory

A long long time ago, in a college far, far away, I took a history course. One question we talked about: How do we view history?

The Great Man Theory of History says that great individuals are the movers of history. This perspective looks at the people, and the influence they had - Julius Caesar, George Washington, Darwin, and such.

An alternative perspective is the event-driven history, which looks at the interactions between events in history. For example, how the Boston Tea Party, the Declaration of Indepedence, and the Revolutionary War interact.

A third take on history is idea-driven history. For example, the impact of Darwinism upon 19th century America, and how evolutionary survival ideas tended to be implemented socially. The focus is not on the person, but on the development and interaction of ideas, and the resulting impact.

In many ways, the Bible is written from a Great Man (& Woman) Theory perspective. While there are hints of event theory (the fall, the flood), much of it revolves around individuals and their lives. Adam. Eve. Moses. Hannah. Jesus. Mary (all of them).

(And for the curious, no, I didn't name the Great Man Theory. And no, I don't care to sidetrack into Bible gender-war discussions.)

I finished reading The Rise Of Lord Vader (very disappointing, by the way) tonight, and was reflecting about the heroes of our legends. Spider Man. Superman. Luke Skywalker.

It occurs to me that many of heroes come to power at a young age (teens, twenties), and are nationally, globally, or galactically known. They - or at least their alter ego - are the phenomena.

In contrast, most of the movers and shakers in the Bible spend much of their time in obscurity or controversy. Often they aren't considered great in their time, or not within a significant group. Moses, who spent forty years as a shepherd and was eighty when God called him. Jesus, who spent thirty years before having a brief three-year stint of greatness in the obscure province of Judea before dying. Star pupil Paul who spent fourteen years in Arabia before beginning a controversial and pain-filled ministry.

In short, most of our heroes spend very little time hassling with the mundane, other than as a footnote to maintain their secret identity. Many of the Biblical characters spend most of their lives dealing with the mundane: A primary theme is God using the ordinary faithful in a special way at a particular time.

It is encouraging to me that if I'm not wielding lightsabers and rescuing damsels by the age of twenty, God still might find a significant use for me.

Fighting Fire With Fire

Today I let my obsessive compulsive impulses get the better of my pack rat impulses and cleaned my room. (For the record, I decided that I definitely like cleaning better by myself. I'm not quite sure why.)

I realized that my pack rat tendencies are a rare (for me) expression sentimentality. Partly it is pure frugalness at it's worst. (I really need to hold onto this fifty-cent watergun for five years in case I need to squirt someone with it.) But partly I'm a packrat because I like holding onto mostly irrelevant memories, or thinking that someday I will go back and be inspired by this or that cool nic nak that I kept. Realistically, when I actually need inspiration, I won't be able to find the stuff I want because I don't actually take the time to organize it. And Google probably won't have invented a search engine for garages.

I also wonder if part of me is a bit afraid of forgetting stuff about my life. Stuff that ought to be important. I found the business card today for one of my first jobs during high school. Kind of cool. But pretty meaningless if I forget it. I think I finally tossed the card. It only took me ten years. Or maybe I just tucked away somewhere else.

Partly I want my memory to be right. I don't like the aspect that my memory isn't like a computer. (And while I'm thinking of it, this article on memory is quite interesting.)

I have another thought though. Today I did something good (cleaned the apartment) by letting one bad tendency - being obsessive - beat up another bad tendency - the pack rat. And the results look good. The apartment is cleaner. I have less junk. Some stuff may get donated to charity. The method works.

My sneaking suspicion is I often substitute being good with manipulating conflicting evil tendencies to imitate good. It is just a little diabolical how easy the substitution is, and how good the imitation can be.

War and Peace (Merry Christmas)

to turn the hearts of the fathers to their children

In the spirit of Christmas, I've been thinking about the that quote. It is actually a fragment of a prophecy about John the Baptist's ministry which the angel quotes to John's father. The angel's full quote is:

Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to give him the name John. He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He is never to take wine or other fermented drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even from birth. Many of the people of Israel will he bring back to the Lord their God. And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous--to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.

Turning people's hearts. It is such a different mindset from politics. The goal of politics is winning. Getting my policies passed. Humiliating my opponents. Being popular. Convincing the independents to support me. But rarely do I believe that the Republican establishment regrets that it doesn't agree with the Democrats - that the Republicans hold to their principles sorrowfully, and wish, desperately wish, that they could work in close agreement with the Democrats. Yes, they grudging allow Democrats who recant their views to join the flock, but there's a smidgen too much glee, that the Republicans have been found right, that a stupid idiot has finally found the right way. (To my liberal friends, don't worry - I think the Democratic establishment is about the same.)

Turning people's hearts. It is such a different mindset from terrorism. Terrorism seeks to force action by making life miserable. But terrorists (as far as I can tell), don't dream about sitting down one day with their targets and enjoying a hot cup of coffee. "Sorry about that bomb at the mall. Let me tell you, that was a tricky one to make. How's Charlie recovering?" (I'm not even going to touch America's response to terrorism - far too complicated of a topic.)

When we desire to be reconciled with people, when we desire to be their allies, when we wish we could be on the same side, we behave differently than politicians or terrorists. (Okay, that is a scary and not exactly intended parallel.)

Christmas is fundamentally about reconciliation, first of us with God, then with each other; about making them children of God, about making his children each other's friends and allies. It is about God changing our hearts toward him, and fathers changing their heart toward their children (e.g. healing this).

I like Jesus' explanation of what he is about when he answers Paul's question "Who are you, Lord?"

"I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting," the Lord replied. "Now get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you to appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen of me and what I will show you. I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me."

Now everyone can be thrilled that I've posted something trivial and meaningless about the warm fuzzy spirit of Christmas, the evils of American consumerism, and the necessity of keeping it a Christian holiday.

Merry Christmas.

Preaching To The Opposition

It is harder to effectively preach to the opposition than to the choir. A friend of mine recently shared how a respected man in her life abused her. I wish she was in a tiny minority, but of my closer women friends, a shockingly high percentage have been sexually or significantly emotionally/physically abused. I don't think I've quite reached 50% yet, but I'm probably well over 25% with my 1.314159s estimate. The sad reality is that men are generally responsible.

How does one portray male headship in marriage in this context? I don't mean rationally and intellectually defend it. But how does one advocate male headship without advocating the power structure that seems to lend itself to such abuse?

Most of us - the mentally insane excluded - have a knee-jerk defensive reaction against putting ourselves in harm's way. And most of us are probably smart enough to have a few thoughts like:
- Power increases the opportunities for abuse
- He-said-she-said claims are really, really messy for victims. Evil doers often look really good to the community at large (churches included).

Lately I've also been reflecting on a couple Old Testament marriage laws.

"Why then," they asked, "did Moses command that a man give his wife a certificate of divorce and send her away?"

Jesus replied, "Moses permitted you to divorce your wives because your hearts were hard. But it was not this way from the beginning. I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for marital unfaithfulness, and marries another woman commits adultery."

If brothers are living together and one of them dies without a son, his widow must not marry outside the family. Her husband's brother shall take her and marry her and fulfill the duty of a brother-in-law to her. The first son she bears shall carry on the name of the dead brother so that his name will not be blotted out from Israel.

However, if a man does not want to marry his brother's wife, she shall go to the elders at the town gate and say, "My husband's brother refuses to carry on his brother's name in Israel. He will not fulfill the duty of a brother-in-law to me." Then the elders of his town shall summon him and talk to him. If he persists in saying, "I do not want to marry her," his brother's widow shall go up to him in the presence of the elders, take off one of his sandals, spit in his face and say, "This is what is done to the man who will not build up his brother's family line." That man's line shall be known in Israel as The Family of the Unsandaled.

The 2nd passage is of interest to me because it is effectively commands limited polygamy - and rather seriously enforced. Yet Paul later writes that pastors are not to be men of more than one wife.

In short, there seem to be aspect; of Old Testament marriage law where because of sin, God allows/commands situations that don't seem to fit his original design in order to protect women.

I don't really have any good solutions to the problem. Well, I have good theories, but they aren't very practical. I suppose I have two thoughts:

- I wonder how much of the feminist movement is fueled by men abusing power.
- I wonder how Christians can protect and defend the weak within families with effectiveness and holiness without sacrificing the male headship view of marriage.

Flames can start now.

Life Is Short: Play Hard

Lately I've been reading a bit about U2's Bono and his push for American churches to do more about the African AIDS crisis. Don't get me wrong - I think appropriately serving the African nations is a great cause. But often I feel like Christianity is always running a "big problem of the month" cause.

Here's my current to do list:
- Love wife
- Raise children
- Teach children way of God
- Love wife like Christ
- Read bible
- Pray privately
- Pray with family
- Be involved in reaching 10/40 window with gospel
- Be involved in reaching Latin American with gospel
- Be involved in reaching inner cities with gospel
- Build community relationships
- Help homeless
- Be politically active
- Be a good representative of God at work
- Be a skilled worker
- Give charitably
- Research charities' reputation so money is responsibly used
- Make wise financial decisions
- Serve in church
- Get counsel other older Christians
- Build close friendships with Christians for fellowship, encouragement, counsel, and accountability
- Love people
- Mentor younger Christians
- Avoid "holy huddle" where I loose all contact with non-Christian world
- Live life: Shop for necessities and bargins (to be frugal with money), blog, relax, have hobbies, read theological books, read for fun, learn to salsa dance, yada yada yada.
- Be involved with extended family events
- Be a servant in my friends' crisis.
- Research life choices to live healthily and spend money wisely.
- Exercise

Anyone else overwhelmed yet?

Okay, I know that some of the above activities overlap. But lately I've been playing around with three thoughts.

First, merely because a need exists does not mean it is my responsibility to help meet that need. I can't save the world. It is okay to say "the Christian community isn't meeting this need" without my being obliged to drop what I'm doing and dash off to the new issue. I once read an article on how pastors always have someone they could be ministering to, but that a pastor must learn to let the telephone ring in order to be with their family rather than always on the job.

Secondly, God works (significantly) through community. There are people he will call and make available to commit themselves to many good causes. And I can be excited about what God is doing. Organization also makes it possible for me to be financially involved in these causes: By researching and finding a handful of organizations that I believe are trustworthy and responsible, I can be financially generous without being irresponsible about giving money to poor managers.

Third, I need to know and work within my priorities: There are relatively few specific causes that all Christians are called to be involved in. There is a clear set of principles to live by, however, and it is good for me to periodically examine if I am living those out. It is good for my friends to challenge me if I could be living them out better. But living them out better often does not mean adding more and more activity to my life. And when I look at other's lives, I need to be careful not to confuse different with better. (There are people who are better at living out the priorities than I am, and I should model them, but often I think I mistake a different calling as being a better one.)

Today's Specials

I've recently stumbled across a blog that I like. I thought I'd point out a few of the more interesting pieces.

A highly entertaining (to me) link to a link to a link about a new type of significant other: A 'friendationship'. I could just link to the original, but I like links of links of links.

Another pointed but well-taken look at how we can spin everything as God's will.

And the site of the aforementioned satire, The Holy Observer, with a couple more links to plagiarism and free will. (For those familiar with GCM, the GCM-approved dating method may be humorous. The rest of you probably won't get it.)

Also from Ochuk, this on the language of women.

Sinning Saints (Part II)

For those of you who did not read the corresponding article comments, they are thought-provoking - as much for what they do not say as much as what they do say.

What's particularly interesting about the responses is that there is very little about what Mother Teresa actually believed or wrote. Being a critic of the "I believe X about Mother Teresa's beliefs without any support, I did a little hunting. I promptly discovered why few of her beliefs were directly quoted. I was a little surprised, actually, how little a Google search on her turned up on her theologically: A plethora of classic quotes and a few critics - pretty much par for the course of a world icon. (It is, of course, far too easy to make a legend fit one's world view.)

Here's a few excepts catching my attention and my thoughts:

Yes, she met the royal law of love--love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength and love your neighbor as yourself.

Huh? I'm pretty sure Mother Teresa wouldn't claim to have met the law; I'm almost certain I've read some of her quotes to the contrary. It's a powerful claim that we can fully love God heart, mind, soul, and strength.

If she did not repent of her sins and place her faith in Jesus Christ alone for her salvation, she went to hell. If she worshipped Mary, she went to hell. It doesn't matter how many "good" things someone does, if they have sin in their life they will go to hell.

Mostly a fascinating quote because of the juxtaposition of two concepts. Concept A: If she repented and placed her faith in Jesus alone, she goes to heaven. (I think that is what the author meant. It is what I hope they meant. The strict converse of the first statement is 'If she is in heaven, then she repented of her sins and placed her faith alone in Jesus (plus possible additional conditions.)

Concept B: If a person has any sin in their life, they will go to hell. I'm not quite clear what good repentance and faith are if utter elimination of sin is necessary to avoid hell. I would guess the commenter is coming from a Wesleyan holiness perspective, but that is still a little rough for the Christian converts who haven't quite mastered not sinning.

I don't know the final answer, but if she believed Jesus was the Messiah that could save her from her sins, and if she lived her life in obedience to His teachings, then she very well may be in Heaven.

I like this quote. (Note the word 'like', which is very different than 'agree'.) It begs the question: Is obedience necessary for salvation? If so, how much?

Is there a point at which we can look at someone's life and say "They have lived such a good life that they must have been a Christ follower?" What happens if that person openly claims to be a Muslim, or an atheist? Is our belief system invalidated if the next Mother Teresa figure is a Hindu?

I'm very uncomfortable with the premise in many of the comments that if one lives a good enough life, one 'must' be a Christian. It sounds good - we want to think that Christians can live a notch 'better' than non-Christians. But I'm not clear it is theologically sound. I'm not sure I'm prepared to qualify certain people as Christians if they live a good enough life. I'm not sure I'm prepared to disqualify people for living too bad a life. And I'm very fuzzy on where I'd start drawing lines.

Here's a parting thought: It is perhaps unfortunate that Mother Teresa didn't leave behind a clearer theological picture for us to attach to her deeds - or at least, that I'm not aware of it. The doctrine of the Roman Catholic Church, at least in America, seems varied. Good deeds say a great deal, but there are some ideas they simply cannot communicate.

(And the corollary is that I need to blog less and do more.)

Of Saintly Sinners

I stumbled across this article by a writer I very much like. And since I generally agree with him that it is how we apply our theology to the "real-world," I liked the questions he asked. Feel free to leave your own thoughts. I'll try and post a few of my thoughts later.

"What Do You Think of Me?" And Other Taboos

I know I've been really bad about posting recently. I'd like to blame it on actually having a life, but that might be stretching matters a bit. I have bought a new computer game (galactic conquest simulation) to bury myself in, however.

I've also had trouble finding the proper way to structure my thoughts. I almost titled this post 'Women should be seen and not heard' and Other Taboo Opinions but decided it might be taken the wrong way. (Okay, it still might be taken the wrong way, but at least readers are in the middle of the post by now.)

Reading newspaper stories about people who have died always interests me; especially those who die young. People are so predictable in their quotes: How sad it is Johnny died so young; how tragic it is that Johnny didn't live out his full potential; how Johnny was cared for people, had a great heart, and really worked to make the world a better place.

Strangely enough, the people who make this world a rotten place never seem to die young.

Johnny was struck by car today as he left the high school to hang out with his friends. His friends, though shocked, are relieved. 'Johnny was hard to be around.' said one his former girlfriend. 'He'd slap me if I disagreed with him, and he always thought I looked fat. I didn't have the guts to breakup with him, but I'm not really sorry he's gone.' His parents were less diplomatic 'Johnny was a troublemaker; always giving us grief. We loved him, but maybe the world is better off without him. It's scary imagining him as a father with his lack of empathy and short fuse.' Sally, part of a Johnny's cliche...

They just don't write obituaries like that. I've been thinking recently about hot potato subjects, and even how different sets of my friends have different topics.

Here's a scattering of some examples and specific thoughts I've been wrestling with.
- "Hi, I'm a radical Islamic terrorist sympathizer": Topics where there's a strong cultural judgment easily become taboo. Most of us don't like taking a position we know is strongly condemned by our friends or family. A bit more on the church and taboos in a moment, but religious moral codes tend to make it very easy to create taboo topics.

- Sex: Taboo topics are really dangerous for the church, especially when the topic is not culturally taboo. It is very hard to effectively shape beliefs and perspectives in a specific manner without open and frank discussion. Shaping viewpoints is even harder when a different perspective is openly discussed. The culture is very good at articulating it's perspective, which paraphrased is something like "Sex feels good. Ergo only an evil and retarded religion (or God) would want to prevent sex prior to marriage. Do whatever feels good." When the church is not guiding itself in how to handle feelings and experiences from every aspect of life, it is vulnerable to being guided by the culture.

- So how does your boyfriend (husband) really treat you?: Certain problems (like abuse) tend to feel like they reflect strongly on the victim. I married the jerk who abuses me: What does this say about me? And it's hard to casually bring up the topic. Plus there's often this horrified reaction of "How could you possibly imagine that my dear beloved Xavier possibly abuses me? How in the world could you have such a low opinion of him?" So we have a strong denial mechanism coupled with a taboo topic that tends to reflect badly on the questioner for raising the question.

- What do you really think of me?: It occurs to me that the essence of many taboo topics is that they ask or reveal more about others than they want to share. There's an implicit tragedy when a guy falls for a girl, but she does not return his feelings. Or when a friend considers another a close friend, but not vice-versa. And most of us are smart enough to realize that others don't want total honesty either.

I have a bad knack for picking the wrong level of honesty in my answers. A while ago I was talking theology with a friend (Albert) and was answering a question which had implications for Albert's close friends, and thus for Albert. Albert didn't like my answer and (with atypical honesty) responded "You're silly." I didn't like the response. It stung. I like being affirmed. But I think that exchange is a more honest reflection of how we often react to others. It's just that we usually lie easily about it instead of saying "I think you're silly". We're more passionate about taboo topics which removes the cordial veneer, and since we like the illusion, we avoid deeps topics.

So my solution I need get better about the living following: I think you are (or may be) badly wrong, but I will at least hear you out and attempt to understand you (prior to jumping down your throat) before reaching any definitive conclusions about what a depraved child of utter darkness you may be. Even if you should be a depraved child of utter darkness (or behave as such from time to time), I will love, accept, and respect you because you are made in the image of God*.

* - this means neither that there may not be consequences to our relationship because of your actions, nor that I will live this goal out perfectly. However, even in consequences, I want to make it clear that I think you are worthy of respect and concern.

Hrm, how should I modified this wording?

Quick Note #1032

This link on loneliness.

Monkey See, Monkey Do

(Okay, this post is an interesting exercise in trying to be coherent while feverish. Must remember not to write about the flying purple monkeys.)

Lately I've been thinking about a former pastor "Xavier" I knew. He was a gifted communicator who had a passion for helping people know God. I still remember some of the very practical suggestions he made for how to communicate the gospel to the world. I remember him sharing about trying to decide whether or not to make his teachings available, and appreciating his hesitation between not putting himself forward and his desire to make God's message available.

A couple years later, he was removed from the pastorate by his church for adultery with another church member.

There's something in Xavier's story that captures both the best and worst about influence. I find influencing people one of the coolest - and scariest - aspects of community. In its best form, we use influence to teach wisdom, give strength, and motivate toward better choices. At its worst, our influence desensitizes others, encourages others to mimic our wrong doing, and warps people's views of reality. Mother Teresa vs. David Koresh.

Despite its risks, I believe mentorship is fundamentally important in life. While trial by error has its benefits, it is a remarkable slow and ineffective method. I've particularly been thinking about mentorship in connection to knowing God better. Many of these thoughts directly revolve a tendency I've seen - and done frequently myself: To put someone on a pedestal and be unable to see their struggles. I think it is pretty easy (for me, at least)to idolize those I see as more spiritual. It's also easy to dismiss those who I see as less spiritual without considering if they see a truth I'm missing. Here's some of my musings:

- Which beliefs am I qualified to pass on to others? Does great strength of conviction equal the right to pass the belief on?

- How do I avoid passing on my own weaknesses to others? How do I learn to see the weaknesses in my mentors' lives?

- How do I encourage others to not idolize other Christians generating a church gossip mill? How do I encourage others not to idolize me?

Work / Time

In several of my circles, "spiritual leadership" is the hot phrase. Its meaning is similar to the "leadership" buzzword so popular today, except applied to spiritual matters. I made the mistake of using the phrase the other day to a friend, who promptly asked me "So what is spiritual leadership?" And I had the privilege of sitting there with a blank expression while I tried to sort out what the phrase meant. Eventually, I'm sure my musings will wander to the dangerous turf of male-female relationships, and I'll get ample opportunity to irritate both my liberal and conservative readership.

But for tonight, I'm thinking about the fundamental aspect of leadership: Leadership is the exercise or restraint of power. Here's some power most of us have - and restrain - on a daily basis:
- Make a stranger cry by telling her she's fat.
- Ruin a boss' day and walk out on the job.
- Ruin a random stranger's day by smashing their windshield with a sledgehammer.
- Ruin someone's life by driving your car into theirs at high speed. (Even driving large vans at low speeds can be mildly traumatic.)

Don't get me wrong. I'm glad we don't exercise these powers. But I tend to forget what power is mine. One quality I often appreciate about my liberal friends is that they are (generally) more sensitive to the collective power and wrongs of the society, and individual contribution toward those wrongs. They look at the societal treatment of women, the poor, or the environment, and can clearly see the significant abuses of power happening.

My impression is that as Americans, we are a bit uncomfortable with spirituality involving power management. We're not comfortable with power differentials within society: We're mostly trained to be individuals, and to be in control of our own life. We're a democracy, not a kingdom. We don't have nobles or serfs. We don't need to be apprentices to learn a trade. In fact, my generation is one of the first to be able to acquire knowledge without the assistance of someone older. Even our lawsuit minded-approach to problems revolves around the premise: I have the right and power to get my way.

Very few aspects of American life require us to put our wellbeing in someone else's hands. Graduate students may come close with their advisors: Until your advisor is satisfied with your research, one is (mostly) stuck. The army is another such aspect. But by and large, our lives maintain the appearance of being independent of others.

At its heart, though, I think spiritual leadership is about power: What power do I choose to give up to God? What power do I choose to give to others? What power do I choose not to use? What power do I choose to use? Peter writes this:

Young men, in the same way be submissive to those who are older.

Wow. It is constructive (for me) to look at the context to figure out what Peter means by "in the same way". It is not a very American idea today. American tends to portray its olders as being a bit old-fashioned, a bit out of touch, a bit conservative. And American encourages young men to blaze their own trail and to live their own dream. I wonder how many young men have sat down with their pastor, looked him in the eye, and asked "How can I make you successful?" And how many of those men have then been willing to be faithful to making that pastor succeed?

(As a side note, I find this concept of men being under authority is very relevant to the male-female gender role discussion. The fact that many men choose to ignore it is another topic all together...)

For Mathematicians and English Teachers

This should be appreciated.

Another Brief Interlude

Blogging has not been going well recently, I can't seem to structure my thoughts into sensible English. I have a half written blog on Mario Cart & wisdom, but it won't finish, not even after a 4hr nap.

I did finally have a few thoughts about what genuine leadership means. Here's a few of them.
- Helping others be successful. And I don't mean helping others be successful so that they help you be successful. I mean, helping others to be successful even when it doesn't benefit you at all. This thought sounds trivial, but it isn't. We (I, at least) naturally think about what we want to accomplish. My career. My marriage. My ministry. My children. I don't naturally or easily think about what it takes for others to be successful. To make a good husband. To have a good job. To be an effective friend to others. To consistently serve others without expecting in return, without burning out, or feeling bitter about others not serving you is a rare trait indeed.

- Leadership is the character to stick to conviction despite strong desire (or fear) to do otherwise. Most of us naturally do the right thing in at least a few areas of our life. (A few of us are gifted at consistently doing everything wrong.) I'm not really tempted by alcohol. That's great. I don't even really like much of it. That's too bad as I'm missing out. But it doesn't say much about my leadership or character that I stick to my convictions on moderation and don't drink to excess.

Sticking to conviction (or even reaching conviction) is far harder for Christians in their 20s in, say, the area of relationships. When the desire to be in a relationship clashes with the conviction of dating only Christians. When passion for a person clashes with the conviction of dating only for marriage. When fear of loneliness clashes with wisdom in who to date. When the fear of permanent singleness meets with an available and interested other. These are the tests of character.

It's funny. I think I used to think that leadership was the ability to do the right thing because of the absence of desire or fear. Increasingly, I think it is doing the right thing despite desire or fear. (Or perhaps, the desire for God being stronger than any opposing desires or fears.) In hindsight, I think I liked my Vulcan approach better. It was much easier to be successful at.

Random thoughts:
1. This is also a thought provoking look at time.

2. Why does the spell checker want to replace 'blogging' with 'flogging'? One day I am going to hit 'replace' and it will be a hilarious blog entry.

A Brief Interlude

There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death.

I overheard a coffeeshop conversation recently. The gist of the conversation was a couple new fathers talking about the difficulty of parenting. One of them commented on some expert or another "Nobody really knows - advice is just there to make insecure parents feel better. You're doing just fine."

I'm not a parenting expert (yet). But the conversation reminded me that we often aren't very good at foreseeing the consequences of our actions. We draw on our experiences, our successes, our failures, and we make our best guess. And it seems good. Or at least right. It's more (or less) worked for us in the past.

And yet somehow our brilliant path leads us to set defenses against people, or to pass on our weaknesses to our children, or to hurt the ones we love. Sometimes we see it and feel guilty, but don't feel like we have any choices. Sometimes we're just oblivious to it.

Perhaps I'm particularly about this path thing because it seems like God's been saying "no" much louder than I expected in a number of ways. The path is different, less comfortable, and away from what I wanted - or even expected. And I'm not very good at remembering that my way may be fundamentally flawed, despite my best efforts.

It's Sortof Okay to Mess Up

So a couple months ago I did something mindlessly stupid. Let X represent the incredible stupid action. Let's let 'Alfred' be the unfortunate primary victim of X. I knew about 1.31459 seconds after I did X that it was stupid and hurtful. (This entry is not meant to imply that only one such X has occurred in the last 2 months, just that one is on my mind.) X wasn't really something I could apologize for without simply making the situation worse. (And yes, I know, this sounds unbelievable. Such are the oddities of the modern era.)

Anyway, I recently ran into Alfred and we talked (a bit) about X. Probably not enough, but enough for me to realize that I probably have not ruined every waking moment of Alfred's life. Yes, for those of you wondering, that is a Good Idea (TM).

Running into Alfred has me thinking about the ways people (especially me) try and justify ourselves when we're wrong, and what I think the proper response is.

Line 1:

It doesn't really matter. I didn't really hurt Alfred. He shouldn't be so sensitive to X. I'm okay because it is not my fault.

Line 2:

It doesn't matter because I'm human. I didn't catch the consequences of my actions, but I'm not expected to. It's unreasonable to think I should never do something thoughtlessly that hurts someone else. I'm okay because I'm doing what is reasonable.

Line 3:

I can't help it. I've tried to be more thoughtful, more compassionate, more caring, but I just don't change. I'm okay because I'm doing my best.

Line 4: (and my personal favorite)

I don't care. Too bad that Alfred is hurt. Too bad that others are pushed away by me. I just don't care. I'm okay because I'm not emotionally impacted.

(I wanted to use affected instead of impacted, but I'm afraid my English-teaching-play-quoting-grammar-fiend-friend would yell at me because it ought to be effected.)

At the moment, my mind is contemplating two thoughts:
1. It is not okay to be wrong. None of the above lines are entirely true, although there is some truth in most of them.

2. As a Christian, I am okay even when wrong because Jesus died to make me right with God. I think as a culture, we tried and think it terms of I'm okay because I haven't messed up tooo badly. I do, at least. This idea means when I reach some level of severe messing up, I'm not okay any more. Let's call this level 'U', and the okay level of messing up level 'A'.

This idea that I'm not okay unless I'm behaving at level A also means that I can't really consider the possibility that I consistently think or behave at level U without having a major nervous meltdown.

In contrast, as I really grasp and believe that I'm okay because of what Jesus did for me, I'm free to examine who I really am and who God wants me to become. It is too bad that I only tend to grow in my understanding of my identity in Jesus as I am having a nervous breakdown. I could definitely improve my process here.

If I'm Ever a Nationally Known Christian Speaker

This is really scary (for those of you who didn't catch the first round of coverage). It really frustrates me to see God misrepresented. The real tragedy is that it probably makes Christians look pretty stupid. I wonder if many people really buy the his outlook on God.

Here's a few thoughts, though, if I ever get to be a nationally quoted speaker for Jesus:

- If I'm going to predict disaster upon a city, I will have a high tech doomsday device (e.g. Deathstar) under my command with which to inflict said disaster.

- Prior to making random announcements about my deity's unwillingness to forgive or assist the rebellious, I will consult appropriate religious texts for contradictory stories. Such stories will be disowned prior to my announcements.

- I will pay special attention to stories about prior prophets named Jonah who run in the opposite direction because he so wanted disaster to be visited upon a city that he avoided going to it so that the inhabitants could not hear of their danger, repent, and have God show compassion.

- If said stories exist and I wish to see wrath, I will keep my mouth shut and laugh afterward. (I will first investigate whether my deity says anything about gloating in my enemy's misfortune.)

- If said stories exist and I wish to see mercy, I shall appear to provide the warnings of impending doom with much sorrow and contrition, all the better to earn the hearing of my audience.

- I shall consider the possibility that my deity is fickle and often does not express his wrath despite egregious provocation. If I do not know what my deity is going to do, I will not make vague pronouncements such as "My deity may or may not express his wrath somewhere in the world in some form involving suffering."

- I shall bear in mind that my deity may take badly to certain forms of misrepresentation. I will investigate what my deity cares about prior to seeking national fame. Should I achieve national fame prior to completing my inquiry, I shall sprinkle my comments liberally with phrases such as "In my understanding..."

- My advisors shall include an atheist, several arrogant teenagers, and a Wolverine. Any prepared comments that cause any of my advisors to dissolve into uncontrollable fits of laughter shall be rewritten.

- All comments shall be prepared.

(For the bored, this is funny.)

A Brief Interlude

Well, I've made very little progress pondering influence, power, and servant leadership of late, so that post is not happening tonight. I have been thinking about

He who answers before listening, that is his folly and his shame

after some rather spectacular failures on my part to listen adequately lately before jumping in with my thoughts, but I'm not feeling too much like embarrassing myself tonight.

So instead I'm posting a paraphrase of a friend's comment. (Reposted with permission; details changed to protect his identity from the hordes of online stalkers who visit this blog.) He's 35, a passionate liberal, especially about environmental issues. (Also posted with permission.)

Have you ever set back and pondered if you are accomplishing your rhetoric? I remember attending rallies and conferences in college where we talked about how America needed to change. How our policies were destroying us from within. Fifteen years later, I don't know if I'm really pursuing a radical new America. Would the college students today recognize me as setting a standard for progress? I feel too comfortable in my house with my wife and children. For the first time, I recently considered buying a gas-guzzling SUV for family trips up north to see my parents. My house looks like most of my neighbors. The only time I really know their political stance is during elections when signs litter our lawns. I wonder if the Republicans are just more honest about enjoying flagrant wealth and consumerism while I protest too much. Am I really different than them?

I think the comment stuck in my mind because I've been playing with the same questions with my faith. The Bible is filled with radical vision for life. Light upon the hill. Ambassadors for God. Holy priests. We talk about people seeing God through us. And yet when the day to day routine of life kicks in, I wonder how differently I really live.

I wonder if I am just fooling myself with fancy language while not really making the necessary commitment to really changing the way I live, the way I talk, the way I think, the way I interact to genuinely know Jesus. In some ways I think it would be easier to be a pastor - then, at least, I would get paid to "be spiritual". It might not be any more godly, but at least people could say "Oh him? He's a pastor - he's really working to accomplish something for God." If I'm not going to live the authentic Christian life, a false one that earns the praise of men seems like a really attractive substitute.

I Need a Hat

Well, I'm supposed to be in bed about 12 minutes ago for my goal of 9 hours of sleep and avoiding my caffeine deprivation headache tomorrow. (I drank caffeine today to put off the headache today.)

But, two quick notes: First, I want a cool hat. I keep being around lulls in conversations where everyone just sits and stares at each other. So I think I need a cool hat - maybe an Abe Lincoln stove pipe hat which friends can put conversation starting questions into. Then when the lulls occur, I can fish out a question and presto, a topic. (And I need questions too.)

Meanwhile I'm trying to put together my thoughts on leadership. A friend asked me a while ago what I thought leadership looked like, especially spiritually. And since I was thoroughly unhappy with my answer, I've been tossing it around. We'll see if I can come up with anything good.

Targeted Teachings

I realized recently that I've had a number of conversations where people have commented on their profound dissatisfaction with their church - or at least pastor - because they have not been getting anything out of the sermons. As a result, I've been thinking about what good teaching is, and the role it plays in a church. Here's some assorted thoughts.

- Sound doctrine is important. Doctrine is roughly equivalent one's charts while navigating a boat. If the charts are bad, the journey may continue uneventfully for a while, but eventually the reef, sandbars, or rocky coast will get you.

- There is such a thing as a bad teachers. Even those with sound doctrine can't necessarily communicate clearly and effectively with others.

- There is such a thing as a bad student. Often when I don't get something out of a sermon, it is because I won't take the time to sit down and ponder it. I also tend to forget that I've been working on another issue for a month and don't really need another can of worms. I certainly won't sit down to a cup of coffee with a close friend and ask "You know, my pastor talked today about pride and arrogance. I'm having a really hard time figuring out how to apply the sermon to my own life - where do you really see me struggling in these areas?"

- I'm not clear that sermons should communicate significant new information to those who have been around church for many years. Newer is not better in matters of teaching: In general, novelty is heresy, not progress. I'm easily tickled by learning a cool idea, but the goal of teaching is that people may live holy lives. Paul writes

"It was he [Jesus] who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God's people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ."

Teachers are given so that the laity may be prepared. Evangelists are given not to reach the lost, but to prepare the laity. Pastors are given to prepare the laity. The purpose of the preparation is that the laity may become like Christ.

- I'm not clear that the target audience of a church should be it's mature members. When the apostles started teaching the 3,000 converts to Christianity after Pentecost, I doubt much information was new to those who had faithfully followed Jesus for three years.

- If a church intends to reach the unchurched (that whole "go and make disciples of all the nations" bit), it probably needs to be able to answer the question: How do we expect our converts to learn the basics of the faith? If the expectation is that the converts will simply hang around until they pick it up, I'm worried. The analogy of new converts is of babies - and babies usually don't thrive being left at the dinner table until they figure out how to eat the scraps of dinner.

- Sermons are not designed to communicate massive amounts of information in and of themselves anyway. 50 Sundays a year with perhaps 45 minutes of teaching each about 38 hours of teaching - or roughly a semester long 3-credit college course. And there are no homework or tests to remind you of the information. This fact is not a bad thing as sermons serve many other (good) purposes, but it does mean that the expectation that sermons are the primary source of doctrinal teaching for a church is probably weak.

I tend to feel pretty defensive when people comment that they aren't getting much out of the sermons. I think my defensiveness largely due to the set of expectations people seem to bring to the table - that the sermon should fit them, their style, and their stage of life. (This goal gets harder, of course, when you get married and both you and your spouse expect the sermon to consistently speak to both of you. And then when the children start attending...)

There's some truth to the issue, of course - church sermons which no one finds relevant aren't very useful. And some sermons are just, well, bad. But I wonder if those of us who have been around the church a long, long time need to encourage sermons which the strangers to the faith find relevant while we seek to apply our greater knowledge more urgently to knowing God, serving him, and being holy.

Here's my desperation list when I really need something to apply in my life:
The "search me" Prayer: God, is there any way in me that is displeasing to you? Search me, O Lord, and cleanse me. (Caution: God does not take this prayer lightly, and tends to respond. There is a parable about counting the costs before embarking on a project...)

Taking a friend out for coffee and asking him what character issues he sees in my life.

Going salsa dancing - or otherwise getting out of my comfort zone.

Spend a night praying about the habits of others that really irritate me (like not getting anything out of sermons) and see if I am doing the same thing to others.