Krissi

This is the most difficult lesson in the series -- forgiving enemies and foregoing justice. We forgive because deep inside the Spirit has given us the ability to discern between right v. wrong and therefore judge when we have been maltreated or unjustly regarded. We are not asked to set aside the ideal of justice when it comes to interpersonal relations, but rather trust that justice will be served by Him. We forgive precisely because we know that He has promised to settle scores and reward righteousness that judgment requires. We trust God, that is, to avenge us. We hold Him to this glorious and comforting promise -- “It is mine to avenge; I will repay.” We beg Him to make good on both his promise for retribution and His promise that we who have been stolen from or harmed will have our prior good lives restored many-fold. "Instead of your shame you will receive a double portion, and instead of disgrace you will rejoice in your inheritance. And so you will inherit a double portion in your land, and everlasting joy will be yours." Justice involves restoration as well as retribution. Without His promises, injustice on the earth would remain unjudged and triumph over justice. With these promises, injustice on earth is judged ... though we may not see it in our lifetimes. Justice may be delayed, but faith believes that if we wait long enough, even unto death, we will be vindicated and rewarded. It's very difficult to wait for justice. Our nature cries out to have the innocent avenged NOW while they suffer, not later when it seems too late. To be vindicated after death would be cruel and meaningless unless we were certain there was life after death and what happened here on earth wasn't the last word of God. The distinction between personal and judicial doesn't make sense. Without a sense of justice, forgiving would be meaningless. Whether that ideal concept of justice comes from the courts, family, Bible, inner Spirit or heart matters not as long as it doesn't contradict the bible. Without an idea of justice rattling around the back of my mind, there would be no need to forgive just an amorphous anger. So the knowledge of justice in itself makes forgiveness possible: because I both crave and demand justice (and am innocent or victimized), I forgive. Any hurt and anger that remains is a toxic residue of faithlessness I must continually give back to God. I believe He'll deal justly not only with the evil people in this world/government but also softly and gently remove the pain and suffering they caused. When the government promotes injustice, our "just" response is not to sit back and wait for God to clean up the mess -- we are NOT to be passive onlookers who wring their limp hands, bunker down with a few years of food storage or look away callously. We have a positive Biblical command to serve others in society, worship Him fully, evangelize all we meet, promote true justice as well as fight injustice, defend those who are innocent, hungry, impoverished, have their livelihood taken from them, are regulated/legislated into poverty and otherwise made powerless and miserable. We must rescue people from the government's long tentacles. This may involve passionately exposing and combatting the government by speaking truth, becoming politically active and if need be, engaging in civil disobedience. Ultimately, we obey God. First. Wholly. Not the state. Not others in the church. Not social pressure. Not even our families. I believe that is the real meaning that lays itself behind the verse, "If people come to me and are not ready to abandon their fathers, mothers, wives, children, brothers, and sisters, as well as their own lives, they cannot be my disciples. ... “ When we prayerfully judge the state to be evil and are in a position to ameliorate that evil -- or could be in that position -- we must do this. If we can ameliorate evil within the system, it's best to not transgress those boundaries and cleverly use the Leviathan against itself. But, these days we are increasingly faced with an evil Leviathan that can't be reformed from within. Thus, we must humbly ask God what we should do. And then do it. Christian civil disobedience means obeying God when/if God's Holy commands contradict mere governmental edicts. We disobey knowing we'll pay the consequences for putting God first. Even if the state murders us, we do NOT submit to injustice, immorality and evil demands against ourselves or others ... unless He tells us to wait. Only God is our master. So, yes, we judge. Then we forgive in interpersonal relations and stand firm in socio-political matters.

It could be the case that there is a tension between a) the normal and healthy judgments we make about ourselves and other people and b) the way we act on our own judgments. As Pastor Ralph pointed out, discernment is healthy and good. And necessary. When we make judgments about people’s character, we’re protecting ourselves against potential danger – it’s a part of our deep, created nature to decide if a person is a “friend or foe?” There’s nothing wrong with judging, comparing or pigeonholing what we see and hear about/from others. The problem arises with what we do with these judgments. The bible is not asking us to stop judging as much as it is telling us to make judgments carefully and prudently and not act on those judgments in ways that hurt people needlessly. The primary judgment we make about others concerns their character. We make the best judgments we can in this regard. Honest appraisals. Humility, then, can be seen in our mercy to those we have judged correctly. Mercy isn’t needed when our judgments are wrong. In that case, we need to confess and revise our judgments. But mercy is needed when our judgments are correct and we could rightfully reject someone but do not do so … because He loves. Compassion doesn’t mean shutting your eyes to the truth about someone’s character but loving that person in spite of his sins and shortcomings. This extends to oneself as well. Our mercy and kindness must be extended to ALL “… in spite of.” To be merciful is to love and serve someone “as is.” The problem, then, isn’t one of judgment but of a lack of genuine love. And love is something God alone gives us. We pray for more love, for loving attitudes and hearts, and, in time, the Spirit softens us toward people we find repulsive or dangerous. We ourselves must change. Whatever God does with that other person is not our concern. We are only responsible, before Him, for our response to our own judgments, that is, how we act toward others. We are responsible for increasing in genuine love which can only be done after soul-searching and then confession. We need Spirit-led insight into our own lovelessness toward others.

Could it be the case that the desire for harmony/unity has to be balanced with the sorts of things that Christ actually did in His life? Jesus’ “church” was not the little clique he formed with twelve disciples, but one that existed in Judaism writ large and more specifically in the local Jewish synagogues of his youth and homeland. So, did Jesus seek harmony in his “church?” Clearly, He did not. Church unity doesn’t even seem to be a positive value to Him. Jesus attacked church leaders. Ruthlessly. He mocked them. Egged them on. He invited their vicious response by constantly exposing their faithless pride and ridiculous theological habits. He also attacked cultural habits like selling sacrificial stuff in the “church.” Furthermore, He attacked those who were hurting others, those who had power and authority or were just nasty people. Jesus wasn't a nice go-along-to-get-along guy. He was God. He was righteous. He defended truth with words and deeds. The greatest, most transformational, figures in Christian history were bold, fearless and, yes, offensive. Think: Luther. When he addressed corruption within the church, it literally spun out into the culture causing wars! Two sides were formed -- the institutionalists who wanted to preserve the status quo and the reformers who wanted the church to "return" to it's roots. Luther teaches us that some things are worth fighting for and unity and peaceableness should not be the primary goals of faith. The gospel is offensive within and outside of church. It doesn't stop offending inside church walls. Among believers, the gospel offends when the Holy Spirit works in our lives, rubbing us the wrong way, making us more like Him. In many cases, harmonious churches are dimmed and lukewarm, for when the gospel stops mattering, people more easily get along. At that point, the church becomes just another social club or B-grade country club with the nastiness and backbiting characterized within these sorts of collectivities. In contrast, churches that are growing in the Spirit are in a state of turmoil or at least change. To be commanded to be salt and light implies that the prior situation was dim and tasteless. Or totally secular. Yet this is what we’re called to do – we are to be salt and light: to rub salt into your skin makes it smart … to turn on the lights makes you blink uncomfortably. In times of cultural quietude and ease, seeking harmony and unity could be a worthy goal, but now, as the world hurtles toward its many self-created crises, seeking unity, frankly, seems like missing the mark entirely. This is not a time to put harmony over truth-telling, reformation and the exercise of cultural power. I see Jesus as an anti-unity figure – He much preferred divisiveness to a lack of purity and verve in the church. I don’t think we’re to pick fights needlessly, which may be what Pastor Ralph is getting at here. But somehow, we have to be good and kind while zealously guarding the parameters of faith. No, that’s not right. We have to gain ground, not put up walls to protect ourselves. We have to plunge into war, not hide in church bunkers. We’re not just gentle lambs led to slaughter – we’re vital lions commanded to rule. It could be the case that one reason why the church is so sidelined in Western culture today – but is in the first throes of revival! – is that it cowered and retreated, sought unity and avoided conflict, both inside and outside congregations. Fizzled ecumenism projects speak to this. In the 1990s, and many decades before, the member-hemorrhaging oldline denominations in the United States had an organization called the National Council of Churches which existed, according to their own documents, to promote church unity and "speak with a unified voice." Reporters covering religious stories would regularly call their headquarters in NYC to get a quote or two -- they claimed to speak for all of us. So, what happened? No one even hears of them today. They fizzled, along with their unity-promoting projects. Their pretense of speaking with a unified voice was destroyed by the charismatic movement and the myriad of non-denominational churches that were formed, mostly, by people leaving oldline churches, that is, de-unifying the whole. One must conclude, then, that unity as a goal doesn't work. As long as it can be imposed/coerced, it will survive as a mirage, but unity is from Christ and on this earth wears a gazillion different outfits. A vital church has a bit of tension and churn. Naturally. Any two whole people will clash, occasionally, not just about the stupid stuff but about the big issues of life … assuming they live big lives. This isn’t about mere idiosyncrasies. Or, personality defects. It’s about clashing worldviews and the willingness to GO, to do something, to spread the gospel message, to jump into hot waters and risk everything for Him. Harmony and unity could be, at times, byproducts of pursing His will, but they are NOT goals in themselves. Sometimes I picture churches as tiny tropical islands where Christians sit in the wafting warm breezes, stretching their toes in the sand ... while surrounded by an ocean full of cyclones they choose to ignore, a turbulent culture in which they do not exercise their Christian gifts. Jesus came to kick us off these islands into the big, bad world. He commanded us to heal and evangelize, take dominion over demons, be salt and light, to kick up a bit of dust, to offend ... to take risks. People on the island could look at those who answer Jesus' command to GO .. as conceited and worldly. However, the truth is that they're compelled by an inner voice, the Spirit within, to get off the island and OBEY, to not think about the consequences of obedience (such as lack of unity) but just obey.

I want to answer this question again. After four days of horrible illness, patience looks different ... I tend to think of patience as waiting, not grumbling as I generally do when forced to wait, but an anticipatory or faith-filled waiting, an optimistic sort of waiting. Patience is measured by the passage of time, as is waiting. Perhaps we’re impatient because we know our time is short, that we’re dying … our days are numbered, and we don’t know the date when we’ll be gathered together in heaven so want this short time on earth to be meaningful and God-led, not spent waiting for something to happen that seems never to come. It’s difficult to be patient when life stretches to an uncertain limit in front of us and we’re not given “permission” by God to do the things we genuinely think He has called us to do. Thus, waiting is a time of increasing patience, and is, frankly, horrible. Also humbling. It’s humbling to do things and live in a way that has no value or significance to us when we know we’re called to other things. Yet God humbles us. Keeps us down. Pins our feet to the ground. Forces us to cry out to him in sheer, abject frustration … and then give up. That’s patience. And humility. Forbearance is a temporary reprieve of justice. We know justice will be served in the end, but in this life, we forbear because justice will not happen, the good are not rewarded and evil is not punished. One of the most difficult aspects of scripture, in my mind anyway, is how certain Jews were born and died in captivity, or people who endure painful and meaninglessness disease which is never cured, or the horrors of war. Yet God lets these injustices happen and our only response must be submission to His sovereignty. We must forbear injustice. We must forbear our desire to right wrongs and correct injustices … to mitigate evil. I suppose forbearance is necessary in marriage, but I think of it as necessary in all of life, even with my dog.

Perhaps the thread that is sewn through all these attributes is the passage of time. Patience, forbearance, long-suffering and perseverance are qualities or attributes embedded in the passage of time, in a waiting that seems endless, one that defies the typical delays in His answers to prayer. Humility is often seen as a timeless quality like love, but it is not -- it increases as life progresses. It expands into time. An old-fashioned word I rarely see is "sufferance." It is a sort of synonym for hanging on obediently while experiencing pain, distance from Him and disappointment. "Long-suffering" is a bit like sufferance but it emphasizes the passage of time ... our suffering can be LONG. Seemingly endless. Long-suffering means accepting that the pain of patience may end only with death; it's the willingness to give up our heart's desires for now because we still hope, against the odds, that in the future God will be compassionate and loving, aware of our need, a listener of prayer and love-filled enough to intervene and save us. Patience, therefore, is painful. Very much so. It is suffering for a long time, waiting and waiting more, painfully waiting as the desperate hope for an answer ebbs but never totally dies. A person characterized by long-suffering has endured wihtout giving up the pain of a God who did not intervene in a situation or solve a problem. A long-sufferer is a Christian who in spite of circumstances keeps a thin flicker of hope burning. Outbursts can be a consequence of a frustrating feeling that the waiting time had been “too long.” It is also a consequence of the fear that God Himself had turned away. This sort of shortsightedness puts our own assessment of reality over His. It is difficult to not think rationally, at times like this, to give up because it's the sensible and logical thing to do. Faith requires us to be irrational in the face of cascading disappointments, to believe in times of long-suffering, to keep going even though it may end only at our deaths.

Perhaps we should distinguish between coerced submission and that which is freely chosen or "in our heart." To submit to governmental authorities is an involuntary act, one of giving into the coercive power of the state; to submit to a pastor is a voluntary act by an individual or family, one of submitting to his spiritual authority. Submitting to a pastor is a choice subsequent to joining a church. You voluntarily join a church, then submit. If the pastor or other people in the church are behaving in ways contrary to the gospel, or if they are nasty and back-biting, you have no scriptural or moral obligation to submit to them. If, with good conscience before the Lord, you cannot submit, you should leave. Regarding groups to which you have no choice but to submit, such as the state, your submission can either be insincere/coerced or sincere/voluntary. Not all citizens respect the government at all times. There is a point where some citizens decide that non-violent, civil disobedience is the only moral choice that remains to them ... the only Christian choice. The American revolution was initiated by godly men who were unwilling to submit to tyranny. They chose to die rather than give into a harsh monarch who wanted to crush the new colonies and bring them under submission to the crown. Were they wrong? They would be if submission meant being quiet, respectful and patient. If you believe that God wanted the American revolutionaries to passively wait for all things to work together for the good rather than actively work for the good themselves, then, in your eyes, their rebellion was wrong. There must be a role for non-violent, civil disobedience - this is the opposite of submission. Again, civil disobedience does not apply to church because membership there is voluntary and uncoerced. It only applies to non-voluntary collectivities with the power to coerce its "members" or citizens such as the government. So, if you "have to" submit to a harsh person in church, you've chosen compliance. You can choose to not comply, too, to "vote with your feet," that is, leave. What about submitting to a cruel boss or spouse. Some women feel coerced into staying in abusive relationships because the church demands their submission -- this is wrong, imho. Similarly, no one should stay in workplace that's cruel and harsh. They can improve their situation by either getting out of it or working within it. It's their choice to submit. Here are two examples of coerced submission that border on "slavish servility." 1. Hate speech laws. Here, the state coerces citizens to think and speak a certain way … not allowing us to communicate among ourselves or in public ideas that the authorities deemed unacceptable. This is Orwellian, not Christian. To submit to these laws is sin, in my opinion. 2. Coerced vaccinations. Here is another example of the state forcing some Christians to go against their conscience, to refuse to let us make our own decisions. Many people chose to submit to keep their jobs or careers. A few, too, willingly chose to submit. For most of us, though, was this true submission or mere coercion?

Most of us hold two aspects of ourselves in tension -- what we "really think," and what we reveal. The goal as Christians is to align our minds (what we really think) with our behavior (how we act toward others). That's a part of what it means truly to love another person. Honor and respect can be outward behaviors incongruent with inward thoughts. We can respectfully refer to someone by a lofty title such as "Mr. President" without truly honoring him as a person or a leader. An honest assessment of the president (that is, what we "really think") should/could lead us to regard certain of his behaviors and values as sinful or at least deficient. If this is the case, than our superficial respect is false. It's a lie. It's not what we really think. We continue to superficially honor and respect him when, inside, we do not highly regard his values and behavior. All values and behaviors are NOT worthy of respect -- that's the false demand of "cultural sensitivity". Some ideas/deeds are just wrong/sinful and others miss the mark. Humility does not demand that we pretend to not see. Humility does not gloss over sin. Humility does not require us to hold in tension what we think and what we let others know we think. One of the most difficult aspects of Jesus's personality and behavior was His seamless merging of what He thought with what He revealed. For example, He exposed the woman at the well with the truth or her adultery, what He really perceived. He turned the money-changers tables over. He called people blind and foolish. Etc. I suppose you could say Jesus didn't respect others because He was harsh in His judgments and wasn't duly worried about hurting other people's feelings, but obviously, this would be untrue. I rather doubt He "respected" the woman at the well, for example, though He did love her. His speech was often insulting, but not in such a way that He "trampled humility." The common vision of "gentle" Jesus as saccharine-tongued or silent-when-persecuted wasn't always the case. In reality, Jesus criticized more than praised, exposed more than looked away. He didn't always pet the soft heads of little children, or even wash the rough feet of dirty disciples; sometimes -- perhaps most of the time -- he saw humanity and individuals with both judgment and pity. He saw us as confused and pathetic. Pretenders of faith. He saw leaders as swine and scum. His judgments cut to the quick and were not designed to protect feelings or allow addled thinking to continue. Perhaps real respect is honesty. Calling things as we see them. Can we minister to people we do not respect without resorting to compensating mental gimmickry that makes us feel that we respect their inner selves or similar nonsense? What do people mean when they say they love the sinner and hate the sin? It sounds so sweet, gentle, non-judgmental and respectful, doesn't it? But, really now, can sin be separated from a sinner? Can silly behaviors be separated from those doing them? Can false beliefs be apart from those with fuzzy minds?

Abstinence is negation -- the setting of a zero limit on a behavior or thought; temperance is accepting a low degree of a behavior or thought that is not intrinsically sinful -- the intentional limitation of a behavior or thought. (It's important to include thoughts, no?) There are things in life that are not sinful, if moderated, but quite damaging, if excessively done. The word "indulgence" comes to mind. Most sins, however, are clearly known. A Christian has a check in his or her spirit about behaviors/thoughts that are not of Him. I think the goal is to glorify God in all thoughts and deeds, even those that are mundane. For many Christians, no drinking, for example, is the best way to glorify God. Drinking, in their mind, is such a potential problem that it should be avoided entirely. For other Christians, moderate drinking such as a glass of wine at dinner, glorifies God in the sense that it enjoys and honors His creation, a part of a good meal. Personally, I do not drink because I came from a family that drank 'liberally' and so turned away from this behavior as a Christian. Still, I do not think less of anyone who drinks in moderation ... drunkenness is sin. Frankly, if something is a temptation, being moderate is probably not a good idea. If it is a temptation, the best way to deal with it is to get rid of it entirely. Just say no. Furthermore, some people have personalities that tend toward overly indulging in certain ideas or obsessive behaviors. For them, it's probably best to avoid certain things entirely, though not because they are sinful. Lastly, even ideas and interests that can be obsessive and therefore need to be moderated. When I'm researching something I tend to think about it constantly and even dream about it. For many years I thought about architecture, for example ... ways of building, structural anomalies, etc. Obviously, it is not sinful to think about architecture, but when these thoughts crowded out other thoughts -- like shopping for dinner -- I pushed them aside so I could think about other things. Even today I have to moderate my many interests and passions. Again, the goal is to glorify God in thought, word and deed. Self-control is self-moderation. It's a limiting practice. Whether the goal is limiting anger, for example, or even drinking, self-control is the act of moderating one's desires and passions. Self-control is the virtue, the internal process. Moderation is the goal of that process.

There are many, many non-Christians (seculars) who are generous and do good deeds. Furthermore, they are anonymous and modest as they are generous. So what makes a good deed “good” from a Christian standpoint, is not the deed in itself, but the faith that prompted that deed. Though it is true that faith without deeds is dead, as James wrote, it is also true that good deeds can be without faith. Perhaps the way to look at this is to create the goal of not self-consciously doing good deeds, but rather being a good person (sanctification) whose deeds naturally flow from that inner goodness? Then the deeds would be out of faith, not just prompted by a soft heart as it is with secular people.

I'm not convinced that most conflicts or arguments are caused by pride. Rather, such fighting could be caused by differences in how we look at life as Christians, that is, the way a man, woman or congregation looks at the world through the eyes of faith ... a Christian worldview. Yes, we are all Christian, but it is also the case that we come from wildly varying backgrounds. In the West, we stress the former, our common faith, and then whitewash our differences -- deep inside, however, we know that conflicts will be reduced if we associate with people who look through a lens of faith ground to a similar specification. Conversely, conflict is more likely when Christians are forced to sublimate their particular heritage, worldview, class, theological particularities, language, ways of worshipping or whatever just to "keep the peace." Eventually these differences rise to the surface. When they do it results in conflict. There is nothing sinful about choosing to worship with people of like mind. That's what "church shopping" is about; avoiding contention and strife by seeking a place of worship at which the overwhelming majority of congregants think and worship similarly. The Protestant reformation happened at the point when Christians could no longer deny the impact made by theological and cultural differences between themselves and the dominant, unitary Roman Catholic church. They formed new congregations of like-minded Christians who had the potential, at least, of worshipping in peace. That was the ideal. And it still is. Today, when a congregation splits, we tend to view it as a tragedy. Perhaps we should see it as a sign of strength, that groups who look at the world differently voluntarily create new congregations with a focused identity. I know this is anathema to those who have bought into the idea that faith should be stronger than cultural difference, but maybe -- just maybe -- a peaceful, unstressed, congenial, loving community of faith that "fits" is more important than pretending that cultural conflicts in a group can be dealt with or even avoided. The goal is to worship Him, not to struggle with others. We're here to serve Him, not constantly grate against people who worship the same God but with their own particularities. This is NOT the same as the prideful assertion, "I am right and you are wrong." Not at all. It's merely saying "I don't feel comfortable with the way your group theologizes and worships and would rather not deal with the stress and strain of trying to be part of your congregation when more peaceful options are available." If we can be one Church, indivisible, without knowing each other ... we can One church, though apart, after knowing each other. A unified ecclesia is an abstraction, after all. The nitty-gritty of binding lives together is not abstract. I don't see any value in purposely joining with people with whom I fear I will inevitably conflict . Worshipping with people unlike myself is a Christianized secular value, not a purely Christian one. It's the result of buying into the secular, contemporary notion that "diversity is strength," or other such claptrap. On an individual level, a sorts of limited diversity is valuable ... but on the group level, diversity often creates strife. We must be wise as to which sort we're dealing with. Yes, individual conflicts are inevitable, but a deep and divisive conflict, the sort that cuts to the quick or breaks up a congregation is NOT inevitable. It can be avoided. So, avoid conflict by choosing wisely. The world may be a place of conflict and division but the church, writ small, doesn't have to be. Choose to be in a congregation that has a defined focus, a mission attitude and a culturally similar congregation. A mission attitude means that congregants see other Christians as just that -- OTHER Christians, not lesser ones -- and that the primary division in the world is between Christians and seculars, not Christian v. Christian.

Someone upthread in so many words wrote that humility itself is a gift of God and not something that we can set our minds to be or accomplish. To be humble is to surrender, not to aspire, that is. I think this is wise though the act of submission also seems very fuzzy and unattainable. What exactly am I responsible for? Submitting? Is submitting an act or gift of God? If humility is a consequence of submission, then what is God's role and what is mine, if any at all? It seems like an endless cycle. We must submit to be humble ... to live God's way. But every step here involves Him and His power, not our own determination or goals. Even submission is a gift. Somewhere in this cycle, there has to be an on-ramp, a place where the Christian is responsible for stepping forth ... or back.

Humility is an inward posture toward circumstances and others. Some people in humble circumstances – not wealthy, noticeable or powerful are nevertheless proud. But we assume they must be humble because of their circumstances. The converse is also true: Some people who are successful, powerful and well-known are quite humble but we assume they are proud. The Bible tells the stories of many powerful individuals who were humble … kings, generals, priests, leaders. These are the biblical “greats.” It’s easy to assume that a person who is successful, powerful or talented must be characterized by hubris. The mannerisms and accomplishments of the talented warrior, for example, who comes back to his city laden with spoil could make other men, particularly those who held back, quite envious. I can imagine these men accusing the successful warrior of pride. But this would be wrong. Humility must be read or discerned from the inside out; we must know someone deeply enough to make thoughtful and accurate judgments. Sadly, in spite of all the church rhetoric about loving each other, we know very few people well. Still, on the basis of external mannerisms, demeanor or accomplishment, we judge. The irony is that those who think of themselves as worthy of accusing another person of pride and arrogance have themselves taken a less-than-humble stance! What would be our reaction to a contemporary David or Moses in our small group or congregation? Would we assume they were proud? Could we contain our envy and suspicion? What I really want to write about here, however, is the phrase “in due time.” This is hope deferred – it feels like a suspended state, a time when God seems to hold back or withhold the answer to prayers I most desire. I have three long-term, increasingly desperate prayers, none of which have been answered. As years pass, I’m tormented by the thought that God could never answer these prayers even though they are biblical, morally healthy and uplifting to others. Although I know I shouldn’t, I question His goodness toward me (not His power). Obviously, He could answer these prayers. He must choose not to. Thus, I cling to the hope, the fading hope, that maybe, IN DUE TIME, He will lift me up. The phrase “in due time” has become a salve for my disappointed and broken heart. I don’t understand His delay. I don’t understand why some people experience instant miracles and others seem to suffer unto death. “And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” Gal 6.9

I love this analogy. -- Living successfully as a Christian in this world may mean finding that sweet spot between 1) choosing to withdraw, secede or disengage and 2) entering into the world in such a way that we are subjugated to it. As Mr. Hank wrote, above, the goal may be to live in the water without drowning, not above the water or under the water but in it. For some of us, this may be withdrawing to an isolated little cottage in the woods with minimal "stuff" -- others may be called to work among secular people in a fast, materialistic city, surrounded by decadence. The answer is not the same. We are called to different life-duties. Our goal, however, is the same which is to rightly answer the call of Christ. As is said, "His calling is His enabling;" in other words, He will give us the strength to resist and endure the circumstances in which He places us. Perhaps some of the questions that have to do with pride and the various ways we live our lives can be answered by knowing His calling and then being where He wants us to be? Just a thought. The safest place to be is in the arrow-tip of His will. Or, to again borrow Mr. Hank's analogy, the safest place to be is in HIs ship ... firmly grasping a hand bailer. Conversely, the most dangerous place to be is out of His will. It seems that when we're out of His will, we've purposely chosen to put our own desires over His leading. We "worship" or preference ourselves over God. This glorifies ourselves, or our ability to make decisions for ourselves. It does not submit to His will and therefore does not glorify Him.

So many aspects of normal Western life are contrary to Christian principles including the sorts of things that small businesses have to do to survive and promote their service or product. Advertising -- both of oneself or one's business -- by definition exaggerates the positive and denies the negative. It deceives more than informs. Boasting is lying when it paints a picture that's not wholly real ... when it distorts the truth. If one boasts about real accomplishments and abilities, however, then it's not lying, per se, but self-promotion at the expense of others. It's immodesty. And, frankly, it's ubiquitous. Most people, after all, "put their best foot forward." Could it be that the problem with boasting is measured on a sliding scale on which it's okay to present yourself, company or candidate/pol in the best light, but not okay to crow and broadcast real accomplishments? This slippery or sliding scale is endemic in the business of politics. Think of the outright lies that politicians regularly dish out as well as their tendency to exaggerate their own accomplishments as well as their opponents failure! The excuse is that in a highly competitive environment in which one is expected to do these things (everyone else is doing it), to NOT lie and boast is the kiss of death (electoral or policy failure). I don't think the solution is to do less lying and boasting, as if a little bit of lying is acceptable given the circumstances, but having said this, I also don't know what the solution is in an environment in which deception, lying, self-promotion and destroying the opposition are the goals, not merely the means. When truth-tellers are eliminated from contention, only the most blatant of liars remain.

On my report cards in grade school were two grades listed apart from the others -- "citizenship" and "effort." I knew that "effort" was a consolation prize for kids who were lousy in the real subjects. Effort was a form of flattery, that is, and flattery a form of lying. A good grade for "effort" was the teacher's way of making me feel good about myself (though most of the time I got lousy grades in "effort" too!) It didn't work. I got "Cs" and "Ds" in reading, math and just about every other subject ... and knew I deserved those grades. The silly grade for "effort" didn't matter to me, and shouldn't have. I had figured it out. Thus, I think the worst thing about flattery is that in the end, it doesn't work. Flattery is always subject to discovery, of being found to be a lie. Flattery, then, puts a finger on the scale. It tilts the truth in a desired direction. One of my personal peeves has to do with parents who constantly tell their kids they're so great, so wonderful, so fast, so smart, so talented, so handsome, so much better than everyone else ... etc. Those kids thrive on flattery. At some point, however, they are forced to kneel on the same starting line with everyone else -- often, their real "ranking" is a hard for them to accept. Years of flattery, of their mum telling them they SHOULD be something which they are not is undone when the truth comes out. This was avoidable. Easily. They were never permitted to learn the truth of where they rank vis-a-vis others. They hadn't been exposed to real competition, only flattery. For this reason, I think open and fair competition is the best antidote to flattery. Telling the truth is the second-best antidote to flattery. We have to realize that the pressure to say "nice things" about each other is actually a pressure to lie. It is not kindness or gentleness or building up someone's "self-esteem." It's just lying. Similarly, speaking the truth is not mean or arrogant, but rather is straightforward and clear-sighted thinking. The truth perhaps shouldn't always be told, but every time we pretend that "X" is better than it is, we create an alternative reality that will eventually be knocked down. Thankfully, most of us have one person in our lives to whom we can tell the truth, a person we can trust, a person who can handle our judgments, right or wrong, a person who wants to see life as it really is, that is, to avoid flattery.

Perhaps this is overcomplicating things, but doesn't it seem that motives are never pure, that we rarely do something just for ourselves or just for God, but usually set goals in that fuzzy zone between self-centeredness and God-sensitiveness? We can never escape our minds. When we think or plot or make goals, WE are doing it ... hopefully under the inspiration of the Spirit, but it's still our minds and our subsequent dreams that motivate us. Furthermore, most ambitions have consequences that benefit us as well as others. There are very few "pure plays" in the Christian life. The only time I can be certain of having a pure motive is when my ambitions actually harm me, when I give sacrificially in such a way that my own desires are shelved, ambitions tamped down and goals unmet. I wish I could set goals knowing God's perfect future will but God's will unfolds so slowly that I have absolutely NO idea what He wants me to do in the long term. And that's the rub. Ambition always looks to the future. It takes a long-term stance. No one is ambitious for the hour ... ambition says, "This will be accomplished within five years ..." When leaders chart out the future -- the five-years plan, etc. -- they assume that these goals are achievable and that they, themselves have the abiiity and perhaps calling to achieve them. In other words, they assume success will be theirs. When someone says they want to evangelize the world by a certain date, and then that date passes without the world being evangelized, was God at fault or was the person setting godly goals with an ungodly ambition? I don't know. Could God set us up for failure by having us set goals we don't reach, perhaps through no fault of our own? Could His goal be our failure, or, to word it differently, could His goal be to squelch our ambition? I am no longer certain that God rewards obedience with success, ambition with accomplishment.

Faith requires that we be certain that a particular promise of God is true and understood correctly and given to us at that time and place. Without this deep confidence, doubt constantly nags at our mind making it difficult to move forward assertively. A flicker of doubt can ruin a moment of obedience. We must deeply believe that the word of God – the particular words of God for us, a rhema – has been given for a particular situation or circumstance. We must be certain that God has specifically spoken to us with a clear message or command, that God has told us to do or say something. This could be something as large as our life calling or as small as the command given to Paul to not go to a particular city but turn back. Doubt can either cause us to be reckless (plunge ahead in spite of misgivings), or timid (hold back timidly because you’re not sure what God has spoken to you). This may be where humility fits in this lesson -- humility is the correct calibration of faith between prideful recklessness and self-harming timidity. So, yes, faith is absolutely necessary, but it is a faith not just in an abstract God or church, but in a specific promise of God. Once we are convinced that God Himself has told us to respond in some manner, only then is Christian assertiveness/courage possible … perhaps probable. I think the stories of the great men and women of the Bible can be boiled down to obeying a calling/demand/voice/request because they were absolutely confident that that word – logos or rhema – was from God. (I would change the definition of assertiveness to read “the quality of being confident and not frightened to say what you God wants or believes.”)

The verb origin of the Hebrew word for humble/meek Pastor Ralph wrote -- “to afflict, oppress and humble” -- puts a cast on the meaning of humble that makes sense to me. Perhaps, humility, or being humbled, is not just an attitude of mind, but a consequence of how other people view us (as a failure, power/status-less, weak or abused, “boundary-less,” functioning socially as a doormat, living without goals or aspirations, etc.) The worldly view of humility is decidedly negative, then, a characteristic secular people don’t value. So, recognizing the disdain with which seculars regard the value of humility, Christians are commanded to be humble anyway, to depend on God and not care what other’s think. I don't see Moses as innately humble -- Moses, when young when his character was fully revealed, has a huge **** for power and prestige. This can be seen in his early life when his schooling in power at the house of the Pharaoh came to fruition when he murdered a civilian. Forty subsequent years in the desert destroyed his hope, future, goals and aspirations and sense of self. He had been crushed in the desert, not only humbled – though prepared for his future calling. He had been afflicted and oppressed, as the word origin of humble connotes. Also, note that God, in His conversation with Moses, never praised him for his humility, but chastised him for whining and complaining. So, the essence of humility in Moses was a consequence of being destroyed and devastated in midlife. It’s the beaten-downness of Moses that we see, his giving up of dreams, the devastation of the promise he thought had been given to him. etc. Sometimes submission is coerced by God, and in the case of Moses, 40 years of isolation in a hot desert surrounded by dumb sheep … made him dependent on God, that is, humble.

Motive means moving or movement, from the Latin "motivus." Thus, we call a car an auto-motive because it seems to move by itself (no horse). Too, we often say that we were “moved” by a great phrase in literature, for example. We also can be moved to help someone out of a purer form of pity, which is not sin. I do not believe that our motives will ever be entirely pure, though we get closer to that ideal as we mature in Him. We have been tainted by sin. Forever. Our salvation removes the stain of sin in the eyes of God, but not in our minds and bodies. Thus, we remain sin-bound until we die. I’m not saying we don’t improve or make strides toward ameliorating certain sinful tendencies, but only that we remain sinful in our deepest of cores … the Wesleyan doctrine of perfectionism is not true. Wesley says we need to “agonize” ourselves in our pursuit of sinlessness -- even he, at times, recognizes the futility of striving for perfectionism, for we never reach a condition of sinlessness in this life. We have to admit that our motives are never pure. Never. And our humility is never genuine either, though over the years it approximates that goal more closely. To guard our hearts means to recognize the inevitability of sinning and the struggle to not give into it. It’s a defensive posture. Guarding our hearts means keeping something from overwhelming us, whether that force originates from within or outside of us.

Perhaps the first humble-goal, here, is to be anonymous, to make a real effort to hide your identity (no signed checks). A person who is publicly known for charity such as Mother Theresa must be characterized by deeply rooted self-denial/abrogation in order to humbly handle the praise and admiration of others. So, if no one knows about your charitable giving and service you at least have the potential to be humble though it is possible to namelessly give and still be proud inside. Once, I lived in a city in which the salvation army had bell ringers outside department stores at Christmastime asking for donations. Every year, someone would visit to the various bell ringer and drop gold coins into their bucket. This is a good example of anonymous giving. He received no public praise. Hopefully, he remained humble. A second humble-goal could be to give only to people who forget your name or are unable to reciprocate. Thus, orphans (children, again) and widows (socially shunned unjustly) are two categories of recipients for whom it is “safe” to give without risking pride. Even Mother Theresa had clay feet. I remember when she left one of the clinics she started in India to go to a tony clinic in Los Angelos for treatment – cynics said that the clinics she started were good enough for the poor, but not for her. Also, a double standard exists in missions and food-for-the-hungry ministries. When missionaries and aid workers eat behind chain link fences, for example, as the starving locals watch enviously, what sort of message are they proclaiming about Christ? Not everyone greatly used by God lived in dire poverty and self-denial – sometimes God rewarded or continued their great wealth. Joseph was made ruler of Egypt (I’m sure he didn’t do his own laundry!); Abraham was known for his wealth and faith, not charity; Moses had great power as he told his people to give to others; Solomon, of course, had it all. IN the New Testament, however, those closest to Jesus gave everything they had to others – time, stuff, money and eventually their lives. Jesus Himself said that the poor will be with us always. Jesus had the power to change world poverty into wealth but did not. In fact, He said that though the poor are all around us and will continue to be among us, we will not always have Him. This was in the context of the woman who poured costly perfume all over His feet … an extravagance that could have fed many starving people. So, there are times, it appears, when the needs of others can be rightly ignored as we answer a higher calling, that of serving and worshipping Him … I feel uncomfortable writing this When medieval Christians build their cathedrals, they gave to the building fund, not the poor widow and child. Was this sin?

These questions assume that our response to someone's need must be to do something to alleviate pain, need or deficit. I don't understand, then, the role or function of intercessory prayer if we are to serve others sacrificially. Does intercessory prayer begin when our own abilities to serve are insufficient -- must we do all we can do before asking God to step in? If this is the case, we don't intercede FIRST, but only after we're exhausted, tapped out or unable to go on. I grew up in a secular family with a strong ethic of charitable giving. What follows is an anecdote ... My father was incapacitated before he died a few months ago, so I hired, for the last seven months of his life, hospice nurses. He was furious. He informed me that it was my "obligation" to meet his needs without outside help. He reminded me of our secular "doctrine" of concentric circles of responsibility -- I must meet the needs of family, then extended family, our "kind," neighborhood and finally nation. That was the order of giving. Furthermore, I was to give to him "until done," he said. That meant death. Mine. My hands were very dirty. During this time, I prayed for the strength to carry on. I prayed, too, to be delivered. It got to the point where I prayed to die first. This was a searing experience, to say the least -- to give not just to a needy elderly man, but one who was demanding, ungrateful and more than willing to let me die serving him. It made me question the ethic of the self-sacrificing service that Jesus requires in these parables. Are there limits to service? When do we meet other's needs ? Must we be willing to die in service? Many missionaries have died young, after all. They served until they dropped. They took risks with their health, exposing themselves to diseases from which they had no natural immunity. But there's another, more important question here that goes beyond self-preservation v self-denial. It has to do with the role of intercessory prayer. When do we pray that God meets the needs of others? When do we get our hands dirty and do it ourselves? What is the role of intercessory prayer when the needs are great and overwhelming? What is the role of intercessory prayer when we can meet those needs, though at great self-sacrifice? Are we required to "do" until death, or does God do for us? Do we pray for His help, or for miracles and deliverance, or are we obligated to labor until we can't go on any longer? I

Jesus was acting out a story-parable. Usually Jesus would tell a story that needed to be interpreted to understand it’s kernel of truth – interpretations were debated and, in some stories, not well understood. This time, however, rather than tell a story, Jesus acted it out. This message of this story must have been important, then, for the foot-washing act was difficult to misinterpret or forget. After He was done, Jesus went on to interpret his own actions, perhaps to make certain that the disciples fully understood what had just been acted out. He asks, “Do you understand what I have done to you?” Then, he explains the meaning of the act. First, He tells them that He is both their teacher and master. Second, He reminds them that He had just washed their feet, a servant’s job. So Jesus is both master and servant. Third, He tells them that they have to go wash other’s feet, that those who saw this parable being enacted had to do the same to others. Fourth, He enlarges the meaning of the parable so that they don’t interpret it as only having to do with foot-washing. Jesus lays down a principle that though servants are not masters – low-status people do not have the perqs of high-status people – they have to act as if they were, to " live a blessed life.” In other words, they have to act like Jesus, which is to voluntarily assume a low-status position in society.

Some of the words we use to describe our characteristics/goals mean something different entirely. Such is the case with the word "leader." We twist the meaning of the word "leader" to designate "follower" or even "slave." After inverting the use of the word, it means the opposite of it's common usage. In practice, I erase the old word and insert it's opposite: leading is serving. To die to self is to live. To live is to love and serve others sacrificially. To follow is to lead. To lead is to serve. The phrase "servant-leadership" is a logical non-sequitur akin to being up-down or black-white or hot-cold. It's nonsense. The meaning of leading is NOT serving but being served. The typical meaning of leadership, puts one is above others. The Christian use of the word inverts this meaning. Christ is really telling us, then, not to lead but to serve. We're told that in some mysterious way, serving is leading, but on the earth, this is NOT the case. On the earth ... in real, lived life ... serving puts one below those with the capacity to lead. Jesus wants us to be the lowest members of society, to live as if our only option in life is to serve others. He's saying that any other self-appraisal is pride or sin, that those of us who have the ability and even opportunity to lead, must choose, instead, servitude. We try to get around this by coming up with phrase-ideas like "servant-leader." But Jesus never asks us to be leaders. Just servants. He never asks us to be a hybrid of servant and leader, nor does He ask us to aspire to leadership so we can serve others. He only asks us to serve and to regard ourselves as slaves. Some Christians believe that if they put in the long years of serving, they'll be rewarded with leading because they would have proven to God that they are willing to serve. But maybe, serving is the goal in itself and not some temporary state that prepares us for worldly leadership/wealth/power? Could service be the ultimate endpoint? If the greatest is the least ... and the least the greatest, then our greatness will be found solely in service, not in the leading that service may lead to. I'm struck that Jesus never says that if the opportunity comes our way to be a leader, then we should seize it because greater good could be done for a greater number if we're powerful. I'm also struck that Jesus never suggests we either become or respect those who aspire to political or social power. We obey Caesar, but we don't value the government. We aren't required to admire/extol/worship/love or feel anything deeper than a superficial obedience toward the state. Our obedience is, in this sense, shallow. It is this-worldly only. We obey so we can serve others and evangelize. Sure, we throw away our money in taxes that ultimately harms people ... but this gives us the ability to go and serve. Is there any biblical justification for Christians to assume worldly power? I don't see it. Are we giving into our own pride when we justify our will to power by describing ourselves as servant-leaders? I think so.

1. Pride doesn't make God oppose me, but it does make me oppose the sort of humbling that God requires. In this sense, He's my opponent. My will grates against His. 2. Humility is a frame of mind, an attitude and foundational character trait. Submission is the behavior that emerges or is consequent to having a humble mindset. 3. Washing my hands is a metaphor for repenting ... getting rid of the dirt that adheres to me. Purifying my heart is a similar metaphor ... getting rid of the impurities, the dreadful thoughts, that are in my heart. 4. Washing my hands or repenting means digging into my mind with the help of the Spirit to uncover attitudes and sinful behaviors that have to be eradicated. It's a process. Lifelong process. The idea of humbling myself includes the task of digging into my self, my self-image and sense of who I am and what I should be doing in life. 5. Humbling precedes behavioral changes. The behavioral changes precede God's elevation or lifting me up IN DUE TIME. When we talk about "preceding" we are putting something before something else IN TIME. But God's timing, to my frustration, is not the same as mine. I want instant elevation. He wants me to suffer a bit more, to be humbled ... made desperate.

These questions aren’t cut-and-dry, unfortunately, for in the Western bloc many of the lowest status people are here illegally. Obviously, this presents a quandary for Christians who want to uphold the law as well as defeat the high-status people who are funding globalist NGOs that break the law with impunity. If there was a way to serve the people without furthering the aim of uber-wealthy globalists, the issue would be more clear. Obviously we should serve the children of illegal immigrants because they mere pawns in this globalist game. But what about their parents, adults and other (mostly young men) who come here illegally – are we obligated to give them the shirt off our backs? What is our obligation toward a political system that funds, houses and feeds illegal aliens? I truly wonder what Jesus would do in this situation. Perhaps it would be kindest to return these people to their countries and then go and serve them economically and spiritually there, in their homes. The missionary mandate is to GO and make disciples in other lands. The next step “up” in the social scale from illegal aliens is the level of the poor and marginalized legal citizens, particularly the homeless, drug addicts, incarcerated and more. Honestly, I find it difficult to associate with them, in part, because they’re isolated and only sometimes speak English, and in a smaller part because, frankly, I’m afraid of many of them. Last week my car was broken into by homeless people -- how can I serve homeless addicts safely? These people are in my community. In a way, they are neighbors. Yet, they are so different ... I know that posters/responders on this site hve written that we're all the same, which before God is true, but in practice, we're quite different. Our values, outlooks, readings, leisure activities, child-rearing maxims, etc. are not the same. I do agree we have to get out of our "comfort zones" and stretch beyond giving to our home churches. But what does that mean, practically? I think God puts people in our paths. We need to quickly grasp these opportunities, whoever these people may be. If God puts high-status people in our paths, then we need to serve them and bring them the gospel: if they are lower-status, then we need to do the same. God opens doors for relationship. Ultimately, His openings are our commands. I am, once again, between churches having moved to a new community two weeks ago. My old church which drew from many varied communities had members who either worked with the poor as volunteers in soup kitchens, teachers, etc. or were themselves poor yet with good values. I used to tutor their children.