huh?

Here’s a short paper that I wrote for my English class on something that St. Thomas Aquinas said.  Enjoy…

“Distinctions drawn by the mind are not necessarily equivalent to distinctions in reality.”

St. Thomas Aquinas

Things are not always what they seem.  It is easy to think that they would be, but they are not.

     When I was a child, I lived in Apple Valley, CA.  This “High Desert” community is surrounded on all sides by mountains, almost as though it is a great big bowl waiting to be filled; as far as you can see in any direction, mountains.  I used to think, in my early childhood, that the entire world was right there, that within the confines of those mountains every nation and destination took residence.  Obviously this is a silly proposition, but to a child with a vivid imagination, this was reality.

     Today of course, I realize that there is much more to the world than just the “High-Desert” but I do wonder how “big” my world has become.  Is it big enough?  Am I forgetting important details?  It is all a matter of perspective.

     If my perspective is narrow, then the world will seem narrow, even though it is not.  It is easy to think that within the boundaries of our minds we can comprehend everything as it is, but often, we can’t.  Perspective, while it is the thing that allows us to see more, is also the limiting factor of the intellect.  We could call seeing things in a new light “fresh perspective,” we could similarly call someone’s lack of insight their “perspective.”

     In simplest terms, the way that I see things is not the way that you see things.  We are viewing the same reality, but it takes on different appearances for us.  My thoughts in regards to life are not those of everyone that I meet, and the sooner that I come to understand that, the more that I can learn.  Truly, perspective is the lens through which we try to navigate the world.

     Things are not always what they seem, whether we view the world through a lens of experience or a system of beliefs or we try to be objective, we all perceive the world differently.  The truly open mind is the one that can see that the world doesn’t fit into the mountains of our youth but reaches farther than the maps indicate.

Last night I was sitting in my room and listening to Mozart (I happen to love classical music, although, most people know me for my penchant for classic rock).  His music is mysterious.  At moments raw and penetrating, at others filled with sincere emotion, but always graceful.  It is, in a word, beautiful.

I was feeling so inspired that I wrote the following ideas in my journal.  I hope you enjoy them.

Mozart has a simple power, a graceful storm as it were.  It is a beautiful potency that overtakes me and yet leaves me with peace.

I think that beauty is like that.

Powerful.

Graceful.

Vehement.

Gentle.

Abrasive.

Beauty disarms.

Whether it is the young man that sees the lovely girl across the room and falls instantly in love, or the songwriter discovering a melody that brings the right emotions to his lyrics, or the artist stumbling through the colors of his pallet trying to capture a sunset, beauty has the ability to capture us completely.

There are times when this can be a terrible truth.

The young man walks across the room and the lovely girl decides to make him her project, her puppet.  The songwriter, so taken with his music forgets his responsibilities.  The artist, gazing into his picture desires to escape reality.

Beauty is often used to manipulate, to hurt people.  We allow ourselves to give into beauty, thinking that if we surrender to it we can somehow take a deeper pleasure in it.  Maybe we desire to become one with it.  Maybe we hope that by being a part of this beauty we will have fulfilled some unknown need.  Maybe we are convinced that we lack beauty and so we try to make up for our lack by doing whatever we have to get closer to this beauty.  In these cases, we bceome slaves of beauty and lose ourselves.

Because beauty disarms.

When beauty is used for a means that is not pure, it is not beauty.  In fact, it is nothing more than a lie.  And lies destroy.

But true beauty, real beauty, heals.

I am reminded that God is beautiful and thus, much of creation reflects His beauty.  As in the previous instance, the beauty attracts us, but this time, the beauty does not end.  This beauty is true.

This time the young man finds that the girl is so deeply beautiful that he is compelled to be a better man, the songwriter is able to share his song with the world and others take in the beauty that he has shared, finding truth.  The artist understands that his art is a reflection of his maker, the Great Artist.

The more that I pursue God, the more terribly beautiful I see that He is.  I am attracted first by His beauty, then I realize my lack, but then, the most beautiful thing of all happens: He sees my lack and invites me to take part in His beauty.  His beauty frightens me.  His beauty encourages me.  His beauty humbles me.  His beauty forces me to be honest.

Because beauty disarms.

Note: This is a brief introduction to an idea that I am working through.  Feedback is highly encouraged.

Acts 15:36-41

36 After some time Paul said to Barnabas, “Let’s return to each city where we previously preached the word of the Lord, to see how the new believers are getting along.” 37 Barnabas agreed and wanted to take along John Mark. 38 But Paul disagreed strongly, since John Mark had deserted them in Pamphylia and had not shared in their work. 39 Their disagreement over this was so sharp that they separated. Barnabas took John Mark with him and sailed for Cyprus. 40 Paul chose Silas, and the believers sent them off, entrusting them to the Lord’s grace. 41 So they traveled throughout Syria and Cilicia to strengthen the churches there.
NLT

The Apostle Paul is credited with many huge accomplishments.  He wrote around 2/3 of the New Testament.  He took the message of Jesus to the Gentile (non-Jewish) world.  He is renowned by some to be the first to advocate the equality of all mankind (he wrote “there is now neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female” speaking of the liberty that is given through and in Jesus).  We know that he was a Jewish Rabbi before his conversion to Christianity (some have even argued that as a Rabbi he had attained a level of study/understanding/calling that only 9 other Rabbis have attained in all of history, I’m not sure how true this claim is, but they still say it about him).  He was a Roman citizen.  Yep, a pretty extraordinary individual.

All of these things often cause us to think of him in a “more than human” way.  We do this to a lot of people.  We think of those who have accomplished great things as somehow bigger or better or smarter or more capable.  We talk about people like Martin Luther King Jr. or Ghandi and they take on a “larger than life” image in our minds.  In a way, we make them more than human.  Perhaps we make them super human.  Maybe that’s why we have invented comic books with super-heroes.

Superman, Spiderman, Wonderwoman, The Hulk, Batman; each of these characters show us things about humanity, things that we hope for.  We look at Superman and we are just as impressed with his “do-good” nature as we are with his ability to fly.  Spiderman reminds us that we all want to be about the responsible choice even when we have the ability to do what might feel good at the moment.  Wonderwoman shows us that women truly are amazing; that she would be just as astounding without her powers as she is with them.  The Hulk reminds us of our need for self control and the destruction that we are capable of without it.  And Batman, well, he shows us that we can redeem the darkness in our pasts to build a better future (AND that if you are a reclusive billionaire that you can have a really, really cool car.  And a cave, oh, don’t forget about the cave).

These characters are “super-heroes” not so much because of their powers as they are for their virtues.  Think about it: without their virtues they would quickly become the “super-villains” that they do battle with.  In fact, the villains in the comics are often the representation of the of the hero without his/her pleasant nature.  Batman could just as easily be the Joker as he could be Batman.  His choice to be Batman is what makes him “more than human.”

These characters are of course, fictional.  They are not real.  So why is it that we just as easily make our real life heroes as big as these fictional characters?  I mentioned two names a moment ago: Martin Luther King Jr. and Ghandi.  Have you ever noticed that people like these two great men take on the same persona as our fictional heroes?  That often stories circulate about them-and others like them-that are not entirely true, or exaggerated, that make them seem bigger than life?  They become less and less human and more and more super-human or “other.”

I call this “de-humanization;” the exaltation or putting down of another that makes them not human.  In some cases, people have exploited our bent to exalt others in order to promote themselves (the propaganda of the Nazis comes to mind).  In other cases, people use this natural bent in humans to put down others (that same propaganda comes to mind again).  Whichever way that this pendulum swings, one thing seems clear: we are looking to each other for inspiration, looking down at others to feel better about ourselves, or just plain filled with hope that people could be much, much more than they are now.

Back to Paul.

The Apostle Paul is one of these people.  We set him up on a pedestal and often forget that he was just as human as the next guy.  The fact is that Paul’s message was so big that had he not spoken it, someone else would have.  Now, please understand, I admire the Apostle Paul very much.  In fact, I am guilty of de-humanizing him at times.  He did so much with his life, I could only hope to do a fraction of what he did.

My point is that we unfairly exalt him.  I am certain that he would be the first person to tell us that we shouldn’t, not because of a false humility, but because he was more interested in exalting Jesus.

Look again at the text at the beginning of this essay.  Paul was in a heated argument.  Not over principle, not over right and wrong, but over a person that I am sure he called a friend at one point.  This disagreement over John Mark’s character was so “sharp” that Paul separated from his partner Barnabas.  Paul allowed his opinion of someone else to influence his ministry negatively.  So, do you think that when this happened way back when that there was a little gossip going around about the situation?  Do you think that maybe Paul’s reputation was injured by his reaction towards John Mark?

Now, thankfully God makes all things-even the bad-good.  God used this disagreement about John Mark to create two ministry teams instead of just one, effectively doubling the opportunity for the early Christians to spread their message to the ends of the earth.

I think there is more to learn here though.

The author of Acts could have simply said that Barnabas took John Mark and Paul took Silas and they went out to spread the Way of Jesus.  But he didn’t.  He made it a point to tell us that Paul, the great Apostle, had a moment when he let his temper fly a little, a moment when he wasn’t so super-human, a moment when he was

just

like

us.

It happens often in churches.  We put our ministers, our leaders, on pedestals that prevent them from having flaws and as soon as they expose one of those flaws (speaking as a minister of sorts, trust me, we have many flaws), we criticize and question whether or not God ever called them to begin with.  As soon as our ministers are reduced from super-human to human we toss them aside, making them sub-human (think about it, none of us are interested in hanging around with Clark Kent, we want to soar with Superman).

We even use words like “anointed” and phrases like “man of God” that make our Christian leadership sound like they are somehow better than everyone else.  This causes two things: 1) the minister can easily start to believe all of the legends about himself and become an isolationist citing scriptures about Moses and Jesus pulling away from the people because they have to protect their callings (BULL CRAP!).  And 2) we start to believe all of this mumbo-jumbo ourselves and prevent our leaders from being honest about who they are, expecting them to never have any problems or issues with which they deal.

The problem with all of this is twofold as well.  First, our ministers make choices to become all of the things that are said about them; something that God did not make them to be.  Second, they feel as though they are trapped; unable to ask for help or to honestly expose themselves to anyone, maybe even their families.

De-humanization occurs whenever someone is thought to be, forced to be, perceived to be, treated as though, or spoken of as though they are something other than human.

Other than human.

Any time that we try to make someone other than human we are robbing them of the image of God that was created in them.  This makes them into objects, not people.  No matter how good our intentions, when we try to make someone fit into a mold-whether in our minds or theirs-we do something very cruel to them; we bring hell into their lives.

Literal hell.

As soon as God is removed from a situation, a bit of hell has been brought to earth.  Not metaphorically, literally.  Hell is a way of life (as well as a place, in fact I would consider it to be more of a state of being).  It is the way of life that erases God from our memories, removes Him from our presence.  The absence of God is hell.

Removing the image of God from our perception of others removes God from that moment, and thus, hell is born.

How do I remove the image of God from someone?  I just have to perceive them as something other than what God made them.  I just have to prevent them from being their truest self.  I just have to give them a title that bears a lot of weight.  I just have to convince them that there is something wrong with being truly, honestly, totally, themselves.

And we do this in the “church world” a lot.

We excel at making our ministers super-human.  We make them more than themselves.  We bring the ways of hell into the church.  Maybe this is how WE cause a minister to fall: we have surrounded him with false perceptions-with hell-and he has to try and fight alone.  It is a battle that he can not win.

Whether he falls publicly or privately he loses.  Publicly he falls, losing his whole world.  Privately, he may gain a great name and a great ministry, he may gain the whole world, but he loses his soul in the process (Jesus spoke of this in Matthew 16:26).

And this, above all other things, has damaged the church.

We have created a way of life that is consumed in lies.  We talk about trying to be real, about being honest; preachers even say things like “can I just be real with you for a minute?” implying that they weren’t able to be real with you without your permission.  How can the church be truthful if it does not allow it’s leaders to be themselves?  How can Christians expect non-Christians to respect a single word that comes out of their mouths when they impose false persona’s on the people that shape our Christian culture?  Yes, the entirety of the Christian culture is dragged into hell when we surround our leaders with hell.

This is why Christians have little credibility in this world.  Not because we don’t do enough good works, but because we refuse to accept anyone as “Christian” unless they become something that they are not.

Should Christians change?  Yes, but their personalities should not.

Should Christians live by a different standard?  Yes, but not this pseudo-biblical standard that we have created.

Should ministers live by yet a another standard?  Yes, they should live by the standard of absolute honesty and transparency.  They should live by the standard that God made for them; that standard is their truest self; flaws, strengths, quirks and everything in between.  This is the same standard that all Christians should be learning to live by through the example of their leaders.

This is about building a culture of truth, of honesty.

And just like removing the image of God from someone can bring hell to earth, embracing the unique image of God in each person will bring heaven to earth.  Heaven is the presence of God.  Jesus IS the truth.  When we are surrounded by truth, we are surrounded by Jesus.  It pleases Him when we come to Him in truth (John 4:24).  We gain credibility when we learn to be honest, in fact, this is the definition of credibility.  We look like Jesus when we admit our weakness (John 12:27).  And this should be our goal, looking like Jesus, bringing heaven to earth.

Heaven.

Humanity.

They were meant to exist together.  Until we embrace our GOD GIVEN humanity we are guilty of de-humanization.

Jesus, help us to live with bold honesty, to extend mercy and healing to those who hurt, to uphold our leaders in the beauty of their unique personalities, embracing them in the innocence that you have created in them, and help us to see Your image in everyone, from the greatest to the least.

Amen.

I have always thought myself quite good at “alone time.”  I am certain that I am someone that doesn’t need to be constantly surrounded by people, in fact, I often feel “claustrophobic” when surrounded by people.  People freak me out, to be quite frank.  I am put on edge when I am in a crowded room, fight to find words when I speak one-on-one with people; nothing is more intimidating than meeting new people, and honestly, just the idea of being in the center of a crowd makes me feel nauseous.

I wonder what it would be like to pull a “Thoreau” and go live by a pond in the wilderness?

And at the same time I do love people, in some-no-in a lot of ways, I need them.  I am convinced that each and every person is unique and interesting, that each person has a story and a dream, and that each person matters more than I can express.  I have decided that people are the greatest treasure of this world and that I want to spend my life polishing, refining, and helping extend the depth of this treasure.  It is a crime when people are tossed aside.  It is an even bigger crime when we ignore those who have been tossed aside.

So for me, doing the most important thing means overcoming the thing that scares me the most.  I think that most of us are in this sort of position; the “I want this more than anything but it scares me more than anything” position.   I think that this is the true nature of a dream.  It has to be something that you want more than anything and at the same time, not only would it crush you not to accomplish it, the thought of accomplishing your dream is terrifying.

“Accomplishing my dream should be terrifying?”

Yes.

If the thing that you most desire is worth what you think it is, then it will cost you your life to get it.

Terrifying.

Emptying yourself for something that most people regard as only an idea but to you, is so much more than an idea, is a terrifying prospect.  You somehow know that this is the essence of life, that this is Frost’s “road less traveled,” that
if you just stretch a little further that you can get where you’re headed.  You’re stuck in the middle of a symphony and you are certain that the desired end-your dream-will bring resolution to a masterpiece.

As you strive and reach and fight and kick and scream and sweat and bleed you feel as though you are getting ever closer.  If you can stay standing for another round, if you can get up off of the mat, if the judge would just ring that damned bell so that you can take a breath, you’ll get there.  You’ll win.  You just have to out dance the heavyweight in the ring, you just need a few good swings to connect, get the behemoth from the other corner of the ring to stagger, get him to feel like you do right now, and you might be able to pull this off.

But when the bell rings again and you have to get up and start all over again you realize something.  You’re alone.  Sure there is a crowd cheering for you.  Your trainer is more passionate about the fight than you are, yelling out instructions.  The ringside doctor said that you have it in you.  You are surrounded, and you are alone.

Being alone is painful.  Being alone is scary.  Being alone is hard.  Being alone makes you realize that you are ultimately responsible for everything that you do.  You are responsible for how far you stretch, you are responsible for playing the right note, you are responsible for that right hook that just made your head spin.  Being alone makes you feel small.  Being alone makes you feel like you have been swallowed alive by the mass of humanity, that you are just another face.

Being alone makes you realize who you really are.  Maybe that’s why we do so much to distract ourselves from thinking when we are alone: we go see a movie, read a book, play the music so loud that it overtakes us, get lost in hours of television.  We have a million things that we do when we are alone, all of them designed to keep us from taking the time to look at the greatest wonder of God’s creation: ourselves.

Perhaps we are scared of what we are.  Maybe we are more frightened by what we are not.  Taking a look in the mirror could be like looking at a coward, a pathetic, trembling mass that was once a man.  Maybe time alone is the great equalizer; in these moments we have nothing to lean on and that is the scariest part of all of this, isn’t it?

Dreams are scary because they guarantee that we will be alone at one time or another.  I often wonder if I really have it within me to look at myself.  And then I remember that I have to.  I take a deep breath.  I raise my head slowly, and I find myself face to face with my biggest fear: me.

Even people like me enjoy having others around because it is an opportunity to rejoice in what God has created in someone else.  And having others around means that someone is going to rejoice in what God has created in me (I know, it’s crazy, isn’t it?).

There is obviously a problem: we are scared to be alone because of what we might discover in ourselves and we have to be alone at some point if we are serious about accomplishing our deepest God given dreams.  So what’s the solution?

Matt 28:18-20

18 Jesus came and told his disciples, “I have been given complete authority in heaven and on earth.  19 Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.  20 Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”
NLT (emphasis added)

God is smart.  In fact, I would say that He is ultimately wise.  I know that if I try to search out my heart I am filled with terror and I run from the task.  But if Jesus holds my hand, if I don’t have to be alone, then the darkness, the hurt, the wounds that I deal with, don’t seem like such a big deal.

Jesus made a final promise, it was a simple promise: “I won’t leave you alone,” and it is the one promise that we all need in order to live this life.

Set aside the distractions.

Take a breath.

Open your eyes.

He is there.

Now.

Always.

On Servant-hood…

Peter persisted, “You’re not going to wash my feet-ever!”

Jesus said, “If I don’t wash you, you can’t be part of what I’m doing.”

“Master!” said Peter. “Not only my feet then. Wash my hands! Wash my head!”

Jesus said, “If you’ve had a bath in the morning, you only need your feet washed now and you’re clean from head to toe. My concern, you understand, is holiness, not hygiene”

John 13:8-12 (The Message)

I can only imagine what it would have been like to have Jesus literally wash my feet. I think that my reaction would have been something like Peter’s, maybe not as outspoken, but I am sure that I would have at least felt as though something was definitely wrong with the picture.

“Who am I that You should be doing this for me?!?”

I wonder what everyone was thinking. Perhaps some of the disciples thought that it was about time that Jesus did something for them. I say this because so often, we feel as though God should be doing something for us. We get that feeling of “entitlement” so easily; that feeling of deserving something for our good deeds, or our good behavior, or our obedience. Yes, we have a Pavlovian[1] response to God: we know that God is good and we begin to expect Him to spoil us based on something that we do. We expect “causality[2]” from God. The problem here is that God is in debt to no one. In fact, we are in debt to Him, a great deal of debt. It would be easy, I think, to be standing in line, waiting for Jesus to wash my feet, and as I was thinking through the whole thing, to remember the time that I did this and that at such and such a place and think-if only for a moment-that it’s about time that Jesus did something for me.

I can say this because I know that there are times that I have thought that God owed me something. I’m almost certain that everyone that has ever spent any real time trying to figure out life and God would at some point, if even briefly, think “in my youth, or childhood, I must have done something good”[3]. Then again, I probably would have responded primarily like Peter.

I think that far more prevalent than our deluded feelings of entitlement is our feeling of unworthiness. There are so many of us that think that we can’t have anything to do with God because we are so frail, so imperfect, so duplicitous in our nature, so, so, human. This is where many of us begin to think things like “I’ll come to God once I have this all straightened out, once I’ve cleaned up my act.” The problem here is that God is not waiting on you to do ANYTHING. He has already extended His offer of peace, of love, of fullness, of totality. There is nothing that we can do to earn His love: He offers it freely.

This is where I think that Peter’s response becomes interesting, “You’re not going to wash my feet-ever!” Sometimes I feel like we give this guy so much trouble saying things like “he was unstable” or “he was learning to be a man”. I think that if Peter weren’t already a man or a stable person then he wouldn’t have responded the way that he did. He was honest with his master; he didn’t hide anything about how this whole “washing of feet” thing was making him feel. I think that this honesty speaks volumes about what a very, very mature person that Peter was. Anyone that is willing to face something difficult head on earns a great deal of respect in my book.

I also love his next statement, “Not only my feet then. Wash my hands! Wash my head!” Peter knows what he wants, he wants to please his master, he wants to know that he is secure in his relationship with Jesus, he wants to be sure that Jesus is getting the respect that He deserves. Peter, in this statement declares his absolute dependence on Jesus.

Jesus’ response to this was a very calm and certain statement, “If I don’t wash you, you can’t be part of what I’m doing.” He followed it by saying that He wasn’t trying to make them hygienically sound, but holy.

Jesus wasn’t trying to wash their feet in order to make them clean, He was washing their feet because He wanted to serve them, to do something special for His friends. Jesus proclaims that Peter can’t have any part in Him unless Peter allows Jesus to serve Him. You can’t have any part unless you let Jesus serve you.

So much of following Jesus is about serving, about giving of yourself and your resources for the sake of helping others, but the implication of Jesus’ words here is that unless He serves you, you can have no part in what He is doing.

How magnificent are the depths of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! They are unsearchable!

If you don’t allow Jesus to work in your life, then you can have no part of Him. We become so busy trying to DO the things that a “good Christian” does, serving in church, living a certain kind of life, paying tithes, and the list goes on and on. And yet, all that He is looking for is for you to stop and let Him serve you, to stop and let Him work in your heart, to wash your feet. He is so emphatic about it that He says that if you don’t let Him “serve” you in ways that only He can, that you can’t have anything to do with Him. It doesn’t matter how many good things that you do, unless you take the time to let Him wash your feet, you do them in vain.

I have known many people that try to prove their spirituality through their deeds. What if we stopped trying to prove our spirituality and started seeking Him honestly? What if instead of being consumed by an insane assumption of what God wants you to do with your life you sat down and let Him wash your feet? What if the only way to learn how to serve people is to learn first-hand from Jesus what it means to meet someone at their deepest need?

Let Him wash your feet.

[1] Pavlov was the one that trained his dogs to respond to the ringing of bells; every time he rang a bell, he would feed the dogs. One day he rang the bell and did not feed the dogs. They began to salivate, expecting their meal.

[2] Watch the second installment of the Matrix Trilogy, Revolutions, for a good understanding of this concept.

[3] This of course is from The Sound of Music.