1 Sentence, 6 Words Long

You’d think we’d be versed in the dangers of saying too much by now. But I don’t think so (at least not yet, anyway). I do this all the time in my teaching career. I take 35 minutes to say something which is probably more effectively conveyed in a single sentence left to hang in the air and tell itself further in the silence that follows.

As a simple (but powerful) exercise, try something this week to see what I mean. I challenge you to exercise the power of an uncluttered, un-appendixed, un-qualified ‘no’. It’s best to put a ‘thanks’ on the end so people know you aren’t upset or anything. But try it, just say “no thanks” without worrying about how to ‘doctor it up’ or ‘pad it’ or ‘spin’ it in anyway.

Better yet, try this simple prayer I’ve been mining for a few weeks now: “Help us Christ, for we hurt. Lead us, Christ, or we will lose our way. You are my hope. Amen.” And then stop. Wait a bit. Think about what you just said. Assume that He heard you. Further assume that in the simple fact of saying those few phrases, you’ve reminded yourself all over again that your life is a partnership, and maybe that’s good enough.

All of this has been a three paragraph introduction in front of my desire to give you a single sentence which is just 6 words long. It encompasses a part of our constant challenge to stay focused on building a Jesus-based life which has more than just ornamental value. It’s at the top of my daily briefing right now and it’s been at the front of my mind for more than two months. It’s far from all you need to know about ‘red letter’ Christianity, but it’s one of the things we’ve shown an eagerness to forget. It’s based on a famous bit of scripture found in John 13:35, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another”, and here it is:

Simple, honest affection can change history.

Have a great week,

Chris

Untameable Things

There are tens of thousands of exotic pets in Canada: tigers, cheetahs, raccoons, raptors... All kinds of animals that inspired someone a little too much. It’s what we (people) tend to do. We take a good thing one step too far. We say, “What an incredible animal.” And then we take it a step too far: “If it’s this amazing to look at, how much more amazing would it be to live with!” That’s when it starts to go off the rails.

Often, this arrangement ends very cruelly (at least for the animal). Hundreds of these animals are neglected, abused, lost, discarded or simply set loose once the power of our powerful ideas has worn off. One of the most obvious principles we can pull from all this is that there are some things which are just not going to be ‘habituated’. As the tragic injuries of Roy (as in Sigfried and Roy) attest, there is just simply no way to live safely with a dangerous animal. Sooner or later, someone will get bitten. It’s only a matter of time.

All this came to mind this week rather suddenly as I considered how I’ve tried to make a pet of certain so called ‘sinful’ things. I know that word (‘sinful’) is unpopular. But I refuse to let the abuses of it lead me to pretend it doesn’t exist. I’m talking about sin in it’s least religious sense, not simple do’s and don’ts of polished behavior. I’m talking about inward compromises of values and relationships. I’m talking about true sin.

It’s mostly just “off-center” ideas, habits of thought, slips of vocabulary and lapses in attitude. You may say it’s no big deal, but it is to me. I have a compelling image of a person I’d like to be and the lie I’ve told myself is that I can have both: the outcomes of the person God made me to be plus the little indulgencies I allow myself along the way.

It’s the exact same lie that was whispered to Adam and Even in the garden: “You can have both, you know. The life you have right now plus everything the fruit offers.” In other words: you can get more from your life by going your own way than by following God’s instructions.

Anyway, all this came to mind rather suddenly as I considered how I’ve tried to habituate sin. Clean it up. Teach it to behave. Make deals with it. Mitigate the severity. Make it a comfortable object in my life space which didn’t do unnecessary violence to the whole. It sometimes feels like it’s going to work, too, except for this one unfortunate little part: I always get bitten.

So far, I’ve found no lasting or meaningful way to make a pact with compromise. It never stays contained, never plays fair, never holds to the boundaries I wish for it. It always spills over, always gains strength and always reasserts it’s dangerous side. In short, this stuff just simply won’t be lived with well. It always gets messy.

So I’ve decided all over again to renew my resolve not to try to live with things that simply refused to be lived with well. It reminds me of something Jack Nicholson’s character said in As Good as it Gets, “You make me want to be a better man”. Christ made me want to be that a long time ago.

Have a great week,

Chris

Tough People

I can easily get quite taken with a wistful series of “what if’s”. Like “what if we all just agreed with each other more” or even just simply talked to each other more openly. Yes, its’ true, I’m distracted by the way I think things could be.

This is most troublesome when it comes to people. The very means by which we can reach our greatest achievements are just as often the largest obstacles along the way: free thinking, born with a mind of their own, seeing the world through their very own knot-hole, and not always cooperating, people.

All too often our ‘resistors’ become the ‘enemy’, but that’s an incredibly debilitating way to think about it. For starters it makes it far too personal to assume that these people are actually pitted against us – not just our ideas. Or, as is often the case, it doesn’t even have to do with anything about us or our ideas at all. It’s really about them, and what they bring to the table and what they carry with them into all situations. In fact, it’s more about what all of us bring to the table, period. Conflict is a fact of being human.

So, just like “throw up” is a fact of having a baby in your life, conflict is a fact of having people in your life. It’s a side effect of human nature. And as we grow up, the throw up never goes away, it just changes. Thankfully, it’s no longer the shirt staining stink of digestive projectile. But perhaps more unfortunately, instead of just stinking, this new kind of throw up actually deeply hurts.

But here’s something which may be a brand new way of thinking about it. Instead of, “This person is doing this because of me” how about “This person is doing this because it’s something we all do.” And then your resistors are no longer ‘the enemy’, now they are simply the means of greater maturity. Conflict becomes a natural part of the landscape. It’s the trees we must walk through in order to be in the forest. And even more than that, it’s the ‘monkey bars’, if you will, that God can use to make you stronger. (If you let it of course).

It fits with that adage: “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”. Or… well… at least it can make you smarter… or… at least… well… well… at least it didn’t kill you.

Something to think about,

Chris

Triggers and Lint Balls

Have you noticed that life has a cumulative effect? Some of the things that have happened to you in the past are still with you today. In fact, each experience we have changes the way we experience the next thing, and that thing changes the way we experience the things which come after it.

Take hurt as an example. You can never be quite so naïve as you were before the last time you got soundly trounced by someone who took ‘taking advantage of you’ to a whole new level. We can moderate the effect it has on us through effort, but we can’t easily make it go away completely. We carry it with us.

I’ve come to think of all this as something like your own personal ‘lint ball’ of human experience. A lint ball being that slowly growing collection of pet hair, clothing fibers, toast crumbs and far sketchier things which haunt the ½ inch gap beneath kitchen appliances and under the furniture which sits atop hardwood floors. A lint ball is the ‘cumulative effect’ of a bunch of stuff which collects over time and I have one inside me. We alternatively call it ‘baggage’.

At any given moment, I carry with me some part of the shame and fear, hope and willingness, good and bad of all that’s happened to me. I also find that as time goes by, it gets easier and easier to ‘trigger’ some of this ‘stuff’. Whereas it used to take much longer to arouse my suspicions, they can sometimes be triggered almost ready made if someone starts to act out even a small part of something that’s happened to me before.

I’m writing all this because I’ve decided recently that I want to have a larger say in which triggers get triggered most often. Specifically, I want to have a larger say in the one’s that are attached to passion and vision, courage, hope, possibility, creativity and expecting the best of everyone around me. I think a large part of your thought space will be determined by the things you spend the most time celebrating – or the most time ‘turbulating’ (the spell checker drew a blank for that so I’ll say it’s a word I invented based on ‘turbulence’).

I’m guessing all of this is part of the reason Jesus wanted us to stay childlike and live as though we simply hadn’t had enough time to build long triggers attached to large amounts of baggage.

It’s something we’ll be talking more about this Sunday. I hope you find it challenging.

Chris