Life, Death, and the Futility of Everything

Hey All,

The story of the bible begins in a garden. There is a harmony and rhythm to it. Like at the outset of a new romance there is a palpable sense of excitement. Everything is new, exciting, and unnamed. The physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual are all jumbled together not yet haphazardly packed away in their own boxes. The supernatural is intertwined with the natural. The Divine walks with humanity and there is no shame. Then a conversation goes sideways. Choices are made and that tranquility is shattered.

The story of the bible ends in a city that descends into that fractured reality and as a result all of creation is restored to the intended order. The lion lies down with the lamb. The last are first, the peacemakers blessed, the oppressed are saved. The powerful are humbled. Every tear is wiped dry. Love reigns supreme. Once again all of creation is in harmony with God.

The book of Ecclesiastes is how things are here in the middle of the story. Everything is not okay. The kids are not all right. The lion eats the lamb. The poor are last. The wicked win. The good are beaten, tortured or take part in torture. The good are oppressed, and killed. The victorious march on the bones of their enemies. Forget “winter is coming.” Brothers and Sisters, winter is here. To top it all off, the reality is that everything we do good or bad is hebel. Hebel in Hebrew is breath. Ecclesiastes acknowledges that everything we do is a breath, a puff of air, a wisp, a vapor, intangible, fleeting, fading, and meaningless. After all what is a breath? We take thousands of breathes a day without even thinking about them. The only breath that really matters is your last one.

What the teacher in Ecclesiastes is trying to convey is that your life is a breath surrounded by 6,900,000,000 other breaths. Those breaths are the result of billions of other breaths. What you do with your breath isn’t going to amount to much. But it is the only breath you’ve got. So what are you going to do with it?

For the next 6 weeks we’re going to wade knee deep into Ecclesiastes and explore the different traps, pitfalls, valleys, mountaintops, achievements, and pursuits this fleeting life has to offer us and be ever reminded to enjoy it because it’s the last breath we’ll ever take.

Have a good one,

Carl

Anchors, Action, and Dependence on God

Hey All,

  The anchor is a symbol of hope. The anchor is a steady support against the push of the ocean. The anchor keeps you in place in spite of the storm that rages. Thomas Merton wrote that the anchor is “…to signify stability in hope: the theological virtue of hope, dependence on God.” Dependence on God is a tricky proposition. Dependence on God is a natural assumption of the Christian religion and yet in practice it is an exceedingly difficult line to toe. The submission required by a dependence on God is not always apparent and must live in tension with the God given abilities at our disposal.

The decision to act or not act is too broad and even misleading. To not act, after all, is an action all in itself. The temptation to do nothing is appealing in that at least on some level our conscience is assuaged and we rationalize that our inaction grants us some plausible deniability. No less a temptation is the call to charge headlong into action with an overzealous faith in our understanding of the cover of grace.

This seems, at least in my mind, to direct us to the importance of prayer and study. Not to compile some dogmatic lists of do’s and don’ts. Rather to recognize the tension we live in and our own inability to fully perceive Creation as it stands in God’s eyes. Out of our limitations we can recognize the need for Divine input. In our abilities we recognize the call to act. To discern the Godly course we must not cling too firmly to either one of these or any misguided notions of right or wrong. We must learn to pray without ceasing as Paul puts it. We must learn to seek the Divine in each moment. To do this requires that we slow down. When we slow our pace it gives us the time needed to breathe in the moment and give the Spirit a chance to move in the gaps of our limitations.

In Acts 3 Peter and John encounter a man who had been crippled his whole life on their way to the temple. When the man calls out to them for money the scripture says that Peter and John fixed their eyes on him. Now in Greek that phrase, “Fixed his eyes on him,” is atenizō it means to look at something intently, to fully give your attention to something. Peter and John are not caught up in the frantic rush of their plans. They are present in the moment and are willing to give this stranger their undivided attention. Peter heals the man. In this story we see that they were not so caught up in their own notions of what they ought to be doing that they were able to see the needs of others. Peter and John were seeking the Divine in each moment.

By slowing down we give God the chance to move. By slowing down we are able to perceive our own limitations and the need for a dependence on God. By slowing down we can catch glimpses of the world as it is and the world as it can be. We become attuned to the beautiful tragedy all around us. We become aware of the overwhelming amount of work to be done, our inability to affect much of anything, and out of that awareness we can see the need for God to be our anchor.

Have a good one,

Carl

Jacob, Esau, and Notions of Fair Play

Hey All,

Earlier this week a group of us walked through Genesis 27 which recounts the story of Rebekah and Jacob tricking Isaac into giving Jacob the blessing rather than Esau. One of the things that stuck in our craw a bit was that Esau is totally swindled by his brother and mother. Some in the group tried to rationalize Esau getting robbed as a result of his marrying outsiders and the anathema that this was to his folks (Gen 26.34-35). The motivation for trying to justify Esau getting robbed as a result of his somehow deserving it is rooted in our longing for things to be fair. What happens to Esau is not fair. I wonder though if that longing for fairness in our eyes is an unreasonable expectation?

The idea of something being fair is highly subjective and therefore problematic. (Now when I speak of fairness I do not mean justice. I think these two ideals are similar but they are not the same. The intent here is to wrestle with fairness not justice.) What is fair to me may not be fair to someone else. Take the game of Monopoly for example: each household has rules for Monopoly unique to their own sense of fair play. Some folks strictly adhere to the rule that if you land on Free Parking you get the money in the middle of the board other folks do not. If these two groups tried to play a game together and one of the folks from the former category lands on Free Parking and tries to reach in to get the money, well that person will be accosted with loud verbal signals that they are not playing fairly according to the latter group.

In their songs Uncle Frank and TVA, the Drive-By Truckers explore two perspectives on the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA) and that organization’s effects on their families and communities. In TVA the benefits of the TVA are held up and the song shows how that organization was a godsend for a lot of folks. Uncle Frank on the other hand reveals the downside and adverse effects the TVA had on a lot other of folks. Who’s right? They both are. Were the actions of the TVA fair or not fair? I’d have to say both. I bring this up not to propose some relativistic worldview, rather I bring this up to shine a light on the limits of our abilities. When humans are involved we are limited by our abilities, perspectives, strengths, and weaknesses. Humans are not capable of perfect harmony. The TVA was set up with good intentions and yet it ended up wronging folks while in pursuit of those good intentions. Toes were stepped on, lives were ruined, and yet a lot of good was accomplished. What I’m left with is this sense that what might be fair from my perspective in a specific instance would not be fair in 100% of perspectives in 100% of instances. As a result, in my view, the pursuit of fairness is not necessarily something to expend a whole lot of energy towards. Fairness is far too fickle a thing to place in our top ten lists of criteria. Now, let’s turn back to Esau getting swindled out of his birthright.

In Genesis 25.23 God told Rebekah that the younger son would serve the older son. One of the cornerstones of the world that Jacob and Esau were born into is that the oldest son inherits everything the father has while the other kids are beneath the oldest. This is called primogeniture. By choosing Jacob rather than Esau God was throwing the whole societal structure of primogeniture into upheaval. This is a radical, offensive, revolutionary move on God’s part. For God to throw primogeniture aside in favor of Jacob would be unfair in this society. Nevertheless, what we see here is the ground work of the topsy turvy reality of the Kingdom of God where the first shall be last and the last shall be first. We are seeing the Kingdom of God that has come, is coming, and will come at work in the society of Jacob and Esau. The story of scripture is God reconciling creation and that process is occurring here in Genesis 27. Is it fair to Esau? Nope. The thing is I don’t think being fair in our eyes is something God is too concerned with. We see this in the story of Joseph reconciling with his brothers after they had sold him into slavery in. Joseph tells his brothers, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives” (Genesis 50.20).

For me this means that I would do well to accept that God’s will and actions are above me. God operates on a whole other level than I do. This means things may not shake out in ways that I perceive to be fair. That doesn’t mean God isn’t at work in these things. It just means that God’s sense of fair play isn't necessarily going to line up with our sense of fair play. Can we accept that or not?

Have a good one,

Carl

Safety, Acceptance, and A Tasteless Serial Killer Reference

Hey All,

I recently started watching The Shield. Apparently, in 2003 this was the show to watch and I can see why. It’s got a morally ambiguous main character in morally ambiguous situations that the main character reacts to in morally ambiguous ways.  If Tony Soprano had a badge he’d be Vic Mackey. The scene that has stuck with me most is the one where a woman from the neighborhood walks into the police station and demands to be heard:

Glenda: I need someone to listen to me.

Dutch: I'm busy at the moment, but maybe one of the uniforms--

Glenda: I said I need someone to listen to me!

Dutch: ...Okay. Did you want to report a crime?

Glenda: I've lost track of all the crimes.

Dutch: I don't underst--

Glenda: I've lived in this neighborhood all my life keeping my complaints to myself. But no more. My apartment has been broken into seven time in the last four years. SEVEN TIMES! And you never catch anyone! You have got graffiti and cuss words on every single wall that you see. I've got needles on my sidewalk, beer cans on my lawn, and I stopped ducking at the sound of gunshots years ago...How does this make sense? I see that yellow police tape everywhere that I go. And it's all sirens and helicopters and search lights... You got mothers killing their children, children killing strangers, and maniacs flying airplanes into buildings -- and I just want life to go back to the way it should have been! [Pause] What are you doing to make us feel safe?

What sticks with me and what I’ve been mulling over is Glenda’s question to the police: “What are you doing to make us feel safe?” My reaction to this scene was “Why are you going to the cops or any government institution in order to feel safe?” She has apparently witnessed the lack of ability the cops have in cleaning up the streets and yet she continues to turn to them. I suppose my question is why do we, like Glenda , turn to institutions that have shown time and time again that they are not able to, willing to, or interested in, focusing on our safety and well being. What makes us think that the government is willing or able to make us feel safe? What lengths would the government have to go to ensure that warm fuzzy feeling of safety? Is feeling safe worth the cost of a government providing it for us?  

¹⁰ Samuel told all the words of the LORD to the people who were asking him for a king. ¹¹ He said, “This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots. ¹² Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots. ¹³ He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. ¹⁴ He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants. ¹⁵ He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants. ¹⁶ Your male and female servants and the best of your cattle and donkeys he will take for his own use. ¹⁷ He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. ¹⁸ When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen, but the LORD will not answer you in that day.” -1 Samuel 8:10-18

If we want to sleep peaceably in our beds at night maybe we should stop outsourcing our peace of mind to rough men willing to do violence on our behalf. Perhaps our ability to feel safe should be an inside job.

Frankly, I’m not even sure that feeling safe is something that I should be desirous of at all. After all I’m trying to follow an individual who told his followers, “A servant is not greater than his master. If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours.” That doesn’t sound like a guarantee for safety and neither does this:

Do you think I came to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but division. From now on there will be five in one family divided against each other, three against two and two against three. They will be divided, father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law. –Luke 12.51-53

Those aren’t exactly words that imply that we should pursue a careful timid life. I’m not advocating a cavalier approach to life that throws caution to the wind at all. I’m going to continue to look both ways before crossing a street. I’m just wondering how we got it in our heads that feeling safe should be a top priority.

Maybe instead of striving to feeling safe we should strive to accept the world as it is right now. Now to be clear, accepting something does not mean approving of, or liking something. I can accept that Jeffery Dahmer had an eating disorder. That doesn’t mean I approve of it and it doesn’t mean I like it. The question is can we acknowledge that at any given moment something decidedly unsafe may happen, accept it, and live our lives in light of this? The world is chock full of unsafe situations, people, and objects and we are powerless over 99% percent of them all. That 1% we do have power over is how we react to this precarious reality. Do we react by making an institution the linchpin of our serenity like Glenda? Or do we accept it, keep our heads on a swivel, and try to react out of love instead of fear?

Have a good one,

Carl

Outcasts, Mercy, and God's Grace

Hey All,

In Genesis 25 we have the final account of Ishmael’s life and death. The writer is tying up the loose ends of Abraham’s life and is preparing to move onto Isaac. What we see in verses 12-18 is that God fulfilled the promise given to Hagar in Gen 21:18 “…I will make him into a great nation.” I see a lot of hope in the life of Ishmael because he was, in the Hebrew tradition, cast out. It was made clear that Isaac was the child of promise and that Ishmael was not, and yet God still cares for him. Even though God’s people had cast Ishmael out God had not.  What I see time and time again in scripture is God’s concern for the outcast, the misfit, the trickster, the poor, and the oppressed.

It is this Divine concern that compels me to take the view that I ought to follow suit in my views, perspectives, and stances so that they to have an eye for these folks. I also believe I should have that bias  because I to was once a misfit, outcast, trickster, poor, and oppressed. And in some ways I still am these things albeit in different ways. In any case, I’ve found it important in my striving towards the will of God to never forget where I came from and to never forget the sin the rages still in my heart. By this I intend to, as Bonhoeffer puts it in his book Life Together, live under the Cross:

Anybody who lives beneath the Cross and who has discerned in the Cross of Jesus the utter wickedness of all men and of his own heart will find there is no sin that can ever be alien to him. Anybody who has been horrified by the dreadfulness of his own sin that nailed Jesus to the Cross will no longer be horrified by even the rankest sins of a brother. He knows how utterly lost it is in sin and weakness, how it goes astray in the ways of sin, and he also knows that it is accepted in grace and mercy.

I am more inclined towards mercy and grace and remaining open to the folks around me when I remember just how merciful, graceful, and open God is to me.

This does not mean I dwell on the past in sackcloth britches tossing ashes on my head. Rather, living under cross compels me to move forward, learn what it means to live a life of love, and listen to the stories, experiences, and travelogues in weakness and defeat, strength and triumph of others. I get to stop grasping at the meaningless, fleeting things of this world, and instead hunker down on the call to love God, neighbors, and enemies and enjoy the spread that the Lord of the Banquet has put on.

Have a good one,

Carl

Abraham, Isaac, and The Worst Camping Trip Ever

Hey All,

This week I get the opportunity to teach on Genesis 22 this Sunday. Yes, I get to talk about Abraham and Isaac going on the worst camping trip ever on Father’s Day. Sometimes things line up just so and you have to wonder is it odd or is it God? I’ve been diligently doing my prep work, consulting commentaries, scholarly essays, cultural references that parallel this story, and examining translations to glean additional insight that gets lost in the switch from Hebrew to English like this little morsel: the word in Hebrew that get’s translated as knife in verses 6 and 10 is ma’akeleth this type of knife, according to Robert Alter, is used in butchering animals. So, what is being described here is not a sacrifice but a slaughter. From these jumbled nuggets, factoids, panic, wisdom, epiphanies, and God’s grace I’ll hopefully put it all together in a way that reveals something about God, faith, and those of us who would call ourselves “faithful.” The thing is I can’t take my eyes off of Isaac.

I read through the story of Abraham’s test of faith I see all these wonderful theological thoughts, possibilities, notions, implications, I mean the scriptural hose is on full blast here. Yet what I keep returning to is the kid who was probably really excited to be going on an adventure with his dad. Not just any trip either a mission from God. Isaac was going to be partaking in something he had heard about his whole life. Isaac was going to get to learn what it meant to take part in the covenant that his dad and God had together.

Isaac is most likely a teenager at this point in the text. That age where we’re trying to figure out what it means to be a man.  I wonder if he felt acceptance and love when his dad told him they were going on a trip. Did he puff his chest up a bit? Walk a little taller? Run and tell his friends all about how his dad was taking him on a mission from God? I wonder if Isaac was up early the day they left sitting with his gear ready to go. I wonder if he stumbled along the way, got embarrassed, and hoped that his dad didn’t notice. I wonder if he took his father’s silence on the trip personally; obsessively looking back over the day to see if he had done something to cause this behavior. I wonder if Isaac prayed on the trip. I wonder if God responded. I wonder.

Then the day arrives and they get to where they’re going. Abraham tells the slaves to wait while he and Isaac go on ahead to worship. Was Isaac excited? Running around his father asking all types of questions or did he just ask the one, “Hey Dad, we’ve got the fire and the wood. Where is the sheep?” Is there something to him not including the knife in the list of things they already have?

How did the slaughter go down? It’s horrible if you picture it, a father taking hold of and binding his son, laying the boy on the altar, and raising a knife to kill him. Did Isaac struggle? Did he cry out? Did he plead for his life? As Abraham stood over Isaac with the knife trembling in his hands did Isaac hear God’s messenger, or did only Abraham hear it? The scene closes with Abraham returning to the men and they head home. It doesn’t say whether Isaac went with them. Did Isaac refuse to go anywhere with Abraham after this? I think Isaac needed some time to deal with what just happened. Who wouldn’t? 

Isaac is now faced with the option of holding on to this event or moving forward. Does Isaac stay in the wreckage of this place or does he grieve and heal? Will his victimhood define him? This is pretty daunting, how do you accept that your father decided that his faith, God, and his covenant with that God is more important than you? How do heal that? How do you then inherit the very covenant that put your life in peril? How do you reconcile with the God who told your father to kill you? How does that work?

Abraham’s willingness to slaughter Isaac on the altar of faith and obedience to God is an extreme example to be sure. However, some of us know what it means to have our father’s choose something else over our well being. Some of us have had our emotions, spirits, intellect, sexuality, or innocence slaughtered by our fathers in their obedience or enslavement to something. Perhaps, like Isaac, our fathers chose God over us. For some our fathers chose drugs or alcohol over us. Maybe it was religion. For others it was careers, status, and/or money.  Maybe for others it was our father’s sexual desires. For some of us our fathers chose the country over us. Duty, Honor, and the common good may have been what other fathers chose. Or maybe our fathers wanted to be anything but fathers and chose accordingly.  Some of the things that were picked over us aren't evil things. In fact some of them are good things. But, that doesn't change the idea that we where weighed in the balance of something else and our father’s chose those other things over us.

The question then is how do we come to a place of acceptance with that? How do we mourn the fact that we didn’t have the fathers we could’ve, should’ve, or would’ve had?  How do we grieve the fact that something else was more beloved, cherished more, or flat out wanted more by our fathers than we were?

For me healing has come from admitting that these wounds exist. In some instances I've seen that Dad made the right choice. There was a time when he chose the family over me. I was drinking a lot, had gotten kicked out of college, and was generally making a wreck of myself. Dad told me that he couldn't have that in his house. He was right to ask me to leave. He was right to choose the family's well being over me. It hurt at the time. I see now though that I made a choice to, I chose booze over my family, and I left for the Marines. There were other times where I was deeply wounded and I had to realize that it is okay to feel the resulting pain. I talk about that pain and the events surrounding it to folks I trust. I pray that God helps me to see my father as God sees him. I’m walking each mile of the road to acceptance: Anger, Denial, Bargaining, and finally Acceptance and I try to allow myself to feel every emotion along the way. Out of this I’ve come to realize that wounded people wound others. Odds are, if someone is hurting me, then that means someone got to them first. I’ve tried to see things from my father’s perspective and recognize that he was a kid once too and that his dad hurt him as well. He didn’t deserve some of the events from his childhood anymore than I deserved some of the events of mine. Doesn’t make what happened to either of us okay. It’s just life in a broken world. It’s not fair. It’s not just. It doesn’t make sense. This doesn’t get us off the hook though.

We have choices in this life. I can stay in that place of pain, needlessly picking at those scabs, or I can let God do God’s thing, ask for help, and allow healing to occur. For some of us that may mean seeking professional counseling, pastoral care, support groups, and/or medication. This is what I see in the rest of Isaac’s story. He moves forward. He makes mistakes. He get’s married and has some kids of his own. He tries to do better by his sons. He fails. Ultimately he is counted as one of the faithful. I think this is at least in part because he didn’t stay on that mountain rehashing his father’s betrayal any longer then he needed to. Isaac grieved, he accepted, he reconciled as best he could, he moved forward.

Doesn’t mean the scars went away and healing didn’t happen overnight. For me it has been a weekly, daily, and sometimes hourly thing. But by submitting to God’s healing process I have found a sense of well-being and serenity that surpasses my understanding. My dad and I have a good relationship today. I love him, forgave him, and seek out his counsel. He loves me and is proud of me. I am no longer bogged down by these unresolved emotions and lingering aches. I get to move forward and work on the next batch of unresolved issues. I am able to move beyond the pain of my past and fully immerse myself in the life that is available to me right now. I get to be present. I get to let go. I can acknowledge them as part of my story but they no longer define me. I get to be the sum of my actions today rather than be the sum of what others did to me.

Have a good one,

Carl

Grace, Bird Flipping, and Working Out Salvation

Hey All,

Last week I waded into Galatians 5 and this bit drew my attention:

13 You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. 14 For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” 15 If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.

The freedom we have by the grace of God is mind-boggling. It covers warts and all. The grace of God is so freely given that I am free to do as I please. There are consequences in how I use that freedom but I am free to choose. This freedom is what a healthy loving relationship requires. For us to be in truly healthy relationships with God and others; we all (God included) must be free to be ourselves absolutely. The love I have for others cannot be hinged on potential, abilities, wants, or worth. Thomas Merton says:

The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.

I strive for a love that is unconditional. I strive for this because as Christ said in John 5.19: “Very truly I tell you, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does.” Christ is stating that he only does what he sees God doing. As a part of the body of Christ I feel compelled to follow suit. I see that God loves us in this unconditional way because in 1 John 4:16 we are told that God is Love and the unconditional nature of Love is described in 1 Corinthians 13:

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 8 Love never fails.

We see this played out in Psalm 139 and Luke 12.   I believe that as a Christian I am to love in the same way.  Christians are to love one another unconditionally. Christians are to love one another (neighbors, enemies, God, everyone) for exactly who we are right now. Not who I think they should be. Not who I think they could be. Not who I think they ought to be. I am to love who they are right now in this moment in this place with this very breath. We are precious creations of God. There will never be another one of us. We’re it. In the entire span of the 93 billion light years across universe I am the only one God has made to be me. God loves me for exactly who I am. If God Almighty finds me to be worthy of love, grace, and acceptance who am I to say any different?

The same goes for the folks around me. There will never be another one of them. They’re it. In the entire span of the 93 billion light years across universe they are the only ones God has made to be them. God loves them for exactly who they are. If God Almighty finds them to be worthy of love, grace, and acceptance who am I to say any different?

I believe this, it is a foundational belief, I hold this belief tightly…until a kid leans out his car window and yells at me for some perceived misstep in traffic etiquette. Then this belief is dropped so I can free my hands up to flip the kid off for having the audacity to yell at me.

How can this canyon between my actions and my beliefs exist?  Before this weekend I can’t tell you the last time I flipped someone off in anger. I wish I could tell you that it was worth it, a use of the bird so effective that it would’ve made Maverick and Goose proud. It would not have. It was silly. I felt a bit bad about having flipped him off. I was glad to see some progress in my reactions. I used to do far worse in similar situations. I looked at my motives and emotions in the fleeting seconds of the event and saw that I was afraid of his display of dominance, and wanting to assert my own manliness, I reacted. 

I reacted as if his display could’ve taken my self worth or status as a creation of God from me. This is foolish, no one can take away my self worth or my standing in God’s eyes. I’ve been known to hand those things away willingly more than a time or two but no one has ever taken them from me. The question for me then becomes what led up to this event and how was I doing emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and physically.

If I rewind the tape of the day a bit, I see a rather taxing financial conversation with my wife. Not an argument or anything like that in the least, just a hard conversation no matter how well you’re doing. I was emotionally spent having held it together throughout our financial discussion. I had not taken the time to prayerfully prepare for the day. I had offered up some cursory prayers, you know just enough to assuage the lingering religious guilt, and as a result my spiritual well being was definitely at risk. Physically, I was hungry and on my way to lunch on the main road in our town which is always heavily congested (by small Midwestern city standards) which is frustrating.

I look at those things, see that I was primed for an over reaction, and remember H.A.L.T.: Hungry, Angry, Lonely, and Tired. If I’m any of those things I do well to stop what I’m doing, if only for a few seconds, take some deep breaths, say the Serenity Prayer right quick, and think about my plan of action to rectify this quickly and in a healthy manner. Had I done that, before walking out the door to go to lunch, things may have gone differently.

When I remember that God has already found me worthy of love, grace, and acceptance I can see that my self worth is an inside job. I think this is what Paul is pointing to in Philippians 2.12 when he tells the Philippians to “…work out your own salvation…” I don’t earn my salvation. I am, however, responsible for my acceptance of salvation and sorting out what that means for my day-to-day life. Because of this I can look at my actions, without fear or shame, examine what went sideways and what went okay. Where I improved and where I fell short and what I can do in the future to prevent it from happening again.

For me, this seems to be one of the benefits of grace and salvation. I don’t have to hide my missteps, character defects, and shortcomings I can bring them before God and my community and ask for help in figuring out how to move forward. I don’t have to run from God and community fearing that if God and folks actually knew me I’d be rejected. I can bring them to the table to learn from others and folks can learn from me. Because God has poured grace out for us we don’t have to hide our mistakes, wrongs, or defects (real or imagined) we can step into the light and learn what it means to be loved and accepted and how to live a life in this new reality.

Have a good one,

Carl