Quick survey. How many of you have actually read, from beginning to end, one of those Terms and Conditions documents? You know, the ones that come with credit cards or other financial arrangements. You did not have to understand it, just read it. Anyone? Don't be shy, we won't make fun of you or comment on your obvious lack of a social life. Promise.
Terms and Conditions are easy to mock (as are the people who write them). The length of these documents can give any Russian novel a run for its money. And they are not any easier to comprehend. Yet, Terms and Conditions are required by law as a form of consumer protection. Back in the day banks and other institutions did not have to disclose all of the ways they could terminate an agreement or expect additional fees or interest. Now it must all be stated up front. Granted, there are probably five people in the whole world who understand the ins and outs of these documents, still it is all there in black and white. You know what to expect from the lender and what is expected of you. The bank can't end its relationship with you unless you violate one of the stated terms and/or conditions. Nor can you. Kind of makes you feel all warm and fuzzy, doesn't it (cue Barry White).
Relationships with human beings are a bit more complicated. Aside from the occasional prenup, most of us don't spell out in elaborate detail the terms and conditions of our relationship with other people. That does not mean that we don't have expectations (realistic and otherwise). We do. It is just that they are not always clear and are frequently subject to change (Hmmm...sounds and awful lot like those long winded legal documents).
What does it take to keep a couple married or cause a divorce? What are the limits of friendship? At what point will you disown a son or daughter, mother or father, brother or sister? It all depends on the person and the type of relationship they want to have. For every relationship there are terms and conditions. I will care for you, love you, but if you ever...then it is over. That ... may be something trivial (think high school here, people, where relationships can change at the wearing of the wrong kind of socks) or it may be very serious (cheating on your spouse). For almost all of our relationships there are limits, conditions, buts.
This includes our relationship with God. Whether we want to admit it or not, each of us has, at one time or another, explored the terms and conditions of our relationship to God. I will believe in you, but... For some people the buts are not a major part of their relationship with God (they are there, however) for others it defines their relationship. One of my favorite books in the Bible is Job in which one man's faithfulness to God is tested and tested and tested to find its limits, to discover when the buts kick in. (If you have not read Job before I will not spoil the ending for you.)
Having buts as a part of our relationship with God is normal. Relationships require time and energy and commitment and from time to time we ask if it is worth it. Besides, the Bible is full of but statements attributed to God. The writers of some books believed that God operates just like we do. God will love and care for us, but if we are unfaithful, then God will turns us out.
The vast majority of Biblical writers, however, believed that God is not like us. God's love for us contains no buts. Yes, God can get disappointed, frustrated, and angry with us. Our behavior has consequences, but there is nothing, nothing we can do or say that will cause God to stop loving us. There are no buts. Even when we put conditions on our love for God.
Does this mean that we don't get frustrated or even angry with God? No. What it means is that our calling as people of faith is to love as God loves. Without buts. We may not always understand God, we may disagree or question God. That is part and parcel of a relationship. Unconditional love does not gloss over misunderstanding or confusion. It does give us reason to continue to work things out.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
"Or" - Conjunction Junction 2
There are an endless variety of parenting strategies designed to help kids become mature, responsible adults. After an exhausting three year, double-blind study my wife and I opted to employ what we affectionately refer to as the Privilege Policy. The concept is rather simple (well, at least we understand it, our kids...still working on it). Everything, short of breathing and Mom and Dad's undying love, is a privilege. Doing what is expected and behaving in an age appropriate manner leads to a treasure trove of privileges - movies, TV, sleepovers, birthday parties, and dinner. Yes, mealtime is on the table, if you will. Ask my youngest. She can tell you that temper tantrums over what we are having to eat results in being sent to bed sans supper.
Parenting is not for wimps.
While the Privilege Policy may sound rather draconian (I do recall reading some Dickens prior to our first child being born) it is not as heartless as it might seem (though my kids would beg to differ). Privileges are not earned in our house, but they can be lost. Once taken away they must be reacquired, but we begin with the understanding that all of the special things in life are going to happen. Our children are the ones who make the choices that determine whether the day goes on as everyone hopes, or whether privileges get taken away.
We try to connect the privilege with the behavior, but it is an art not a science. Yes, there are times when my wife and I get things out of sync. Take last night when, surprise-surprise, my youngest was unhappy about the vegetable de jure. One hour after everyone else had finished their meal she was still at the table, plate full of green beans. It took the threat of not going Trick-or-Treating on Halloween to get her to finally consume the unwanted beans. Not one for the highlight reel, but fruits and veggies are non-negotitable in our family...especially when you were hungry enough to eat the sugary snack given to you at the end of soccer but then complain about being too full to eat green beans at dinner.
The Privilege Policy is built around the idea of consequences. What you do, or do not do, has an affect on what happens next. Life is full of choices and, no matter how small, all the choices matter. The key is knowing what the consequences are. So, before a privilege is lost, we explain what will happen if certain behaviors or attitudes continue. Don't want to clean your room? OK, but know that if you are not responsible enough to take care of your room then you are not ready to have a sleepover. You decide what you want more-the sleepover or not cleaning your room. Your call, your choice.
The concept of clear cut consequences for our actions is not without Biblical warrant. There are many pages of Scripture in which the writers tell us what the rules are. If we do the things God asks us to do, then certain things, often good things, will happen. Or, if we opt not to listen to God's commands, then there are consequences. More often than not, these are not good. The choice is ours. This or that. Good or bad. Blessing or curse.
There are lots of folks in the world who live their lives and understand their relationship with God as an "Or". Each day there are choices to be made and consequences for those choices. Direct consequences. If you are sick, then you did something wrong and you are suffering the consequences of your prior decisions. Problems with your spouse or children? Poor? Unemployed? Country going through a recession? New York attacked by terrorists? All can be explained as consequences for not following the will of God. The Bible contains all of the rules, all of the "or's" that we need to know. There is no one to blame but ourselves if we get the "or" that was promised.
I do believe that all of our actions have consequences. Yet, most of the time we are not the ones who experience them and we don't often know what those consequences are until they happen. When executives at Enron bankrupted that company some of them went to jail. But thousands of employees, who had no idea what was going on and played no part in the illegal scams, lost their jobs, retirement, savings, homes, everything. When Haiti was devastated by and earthquake earlier this year tens of thousands of people lost their lives because most buildings were not able to withstand the shock. Yet, millions of people around the world reached out with money and food and water and medical care to help. The consequences of the building codes in Port-a-Prince reached out across the globe in ways no one could ever imagine.
"Or" should be part of our relationship with God. But it has to go beyond ourselves. If we limit our understanding of consequence to just what we do and how it impacts our lives, then we have missed the point. The "Or" is about others, not just us. What we choose to do, or not do; say, or not say, needs to take into account the far reaching consequences of our actions and words. Lives can be changed, for good or ill, by what we say and do. The choices are ours, even if we can't always control the consequences.
Here is something else to consider about God and "Or". God is never limited by the "Or". The consequences of my actions, even the negative ones, are not the end of the story. God is always at work redeeming and transforming that which is broken. Every consequence is an opportunity for God to bring hope and life and love into the world that God created. Does God want us to make good choices? Absolutely! Does God want us to think about the ramifications of our actions on others? Without question! Is God able to take even our worst decisions and transform them, resurrect them? Yes, yes, and yes! That, dear reader, is what Easter is all about.
"Or" should encourage us to think. "Or" should motivate us to care about other people. "Or" is a part of how God relates to us and God's world. Yet, "Or" should not paralyze us nor should it lead us to live our lives out of fear. Rather, "Or" is an invitation to a deeper relationship with God and with all of creation.
Parenting is not for wimps.
While the Privilege Policy may sound rather draconian (I do recall reading some Dickens prior to our first child being born) it is not as heartless as it might seem (though my kids would beg to differ). Privileges are not earned in our house, but they can be lost. Once taken away they must be reacquired, but we begin with the understanding that all of the special things in life are going to happen. Our children are the ones who make the choices that determine whether the day goes on as everyone hopes, or whether privileges get taken away.
We try to connect the privilege with the behavior, but it is an art not a science. Yes, there are times when my wife and I get things out of sync. Take last night when, surprise-surprise, my youngest was unhappy about the vegetable de jure. One hour after everyone else had finished their meal she was still at the table, plate full of green beans. It took the threat of not going Trick-or-Treating on Halloween to get her to finally consume the unwanted beans. Not one for the highlight reel, but fruits and veggies are non-negotitable in our family...especially when you were hungry enough to eat the sugary snack given to you at the end of soccer but then complain about being too full to eat green beans at dinner.
The Privilege Policy is built around the idea of consequences. What you do, or do not do, has an affect on what happens next. Life is full of choices and, no matter how small, all the choices matter. The key is knowing what the consequences are. So, before a privilege is lost, we explain what will happen if certain behaviors or attitudes continue. Don't want to clean your room? OK, but know that if you are not responsible enough to take care of your room then you are not ready to have a sleepover. You decide what you want more-the sleepover or not cleaning your room. Your call, your choice.
The concept of clear cut consequences for our actions is not without Biblical warrant. There are many pages of Scripture in which the writers tell us what the rules are. If we do the things God asks us to do, then certain things, often good things, will happen. Or, if we opt not to listen to God's commands, then there are consequences. More often than not, these are not good. The choice is ours. This or that. Good or bad. Blessing or curse.
There are lots of folks in the world who live their lives and understand their relationship with God as an "Or". Each day there are choices to be made and consequences for those choices. Direct consequences. If you are sick, then you did something wrong and you are suffering the consequences of your prior decisions. Problems with your spouse or children? Poor? Unemployed? Country going through a recession? New York attacked by terrorists? All can be explained as consequences for not following the will of God. The Bible contains all of the rules, all of the "or's" that we need to know. There is no one to blame but ourselves if we get the "or" that was promised.
I do believe that all of our actions have consequences. Yet, most of the time we are not the ones who experience them and we don't often know what those consequences are until they happen. When executives at Enron bankrupted that company some of them went to jail. But thousands of employees, who had no idea what was going on and played no part in the illegal scams, lost their jobs, retirement, savings, homes, everything. When Haiti was devastated by and earthquake earlier this year tens of thousands of people lost their lives because most buildings were not able to withstand the shock. Yet, millions of people around the world reached out with money and food and water and medical care to help. The consequences of the building codes in Port-a-Prince reached out across the globe in ways no one could ever imagine.
"Or" should be part of our relationship with God. But it has to go beyond ourselves. If we limit our understanding of consequence to just what we do and how it impacts our lives, then we have missed the point. The "Or" is about others, not just us. What we choose to do, or not do; say, or not say, needs to take into account the far reaching consequences of our actions and words. Lives can be changed, for good or ill, by what we say and do. The choices are ours, even if we can't always control the consequences.
Here is something else to consider about God and "Or". God is never limited by the "Or". The consequences of my actions, even the negative ones, are not the end of the story. God is always at work redeeming and transforming that which is broken. Every consequence is an opportunity for God to bring hope and life and love into the world that God created. Does God want us to make good choices? Absolutely! Does God want us to think about the ramifications of our actions on others? Without question! Is God able to take even our worst decisions and transform them, resurrect them? Yes, yes, and yes! That, dear reader, is what Easter is all about.
"Or" should encourage us to think. "Or" should motivate us to care about other people. "Or" is a part of how God relates to us and God's world. Yet, "Or" should not paralyze us nor should it lead us to live our lives out of fear. Rather, "Or" is an invitation to a deeper relationship with God and with all of creation.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Conjunction Junction
So, I am watching the TV last night and this strange commercial comes up. There is some guy dressed like Willy Wonka talking about the land of and (I won't mention the name of the product he was pushing because at The Blog we have a moderately firm policy of not doing product placement without serious financial compensation...which sadly never seems to come our way).
For some unknown reason this weird commercial got me thinking about my childhood. It may have been the use of that one word, and, that set me off down the hallways of days gone by. "And" reminds me of Saturday mornings, a bowl of sugar coated sugar, and cartoons. During the commercial breaks one network (again, no free product placements) would run the greatest PSA's of all time- Schoolhouse Rock. Who said nothing good came out of the 70s (wait, I did. Oops.)
A bit of context is in order here. For a reason that I have never understood my family lived in a part of town where we could not receive the local PBS station. Remember, this is pre-cable/satellite, so we were held hostage by those little rabbit ear on top of the tube. Did my parents have an axe to grid with PBS? Were they unwilling to pay when Big Bird came by to shake everyone in the neighborhood down? Or did we really just not get the station? I do not know, but I am certain that PBS was not part of my childhood. Which means no Sesame Street, no Electric Company, nothing. Any educational programing that my siblings and I received came on Saturday morning. Thus the disproportionate influence that Schoolhouse Rock had on my life.
For those of you who are regular readers of The Blog, the following statement will come as no surprise - I am not very good with English grammar. Whatever gene is required to diagram a sentence is missing in my DNA. What little I know, and it is little, I learned on Saturday mornings. Schoolhouse Rock was the beginning, middle, and end of my education in grammar. Deeply impressed in my psyche is the ditty known as "Conjunction Junction." Whenever I hear or read the words "and" "but" or "or" I think of a railroad yard. Conjunctions connect things, or at least that is what the little conductor on "Conjunction Junction" told me. Over and over again. I had no reason to believe that the TV would lie to me. Then again, it was Saturday morning, I was hyped up on processed sugar, and thus susceptible to believe most anything.
I still hold to the conviction that conjunctions connect things. Yet, I also think that these simple words can define people and their relationship to God. There are 'and", "but", and "or" relationships. All three exist in Scripture, yet they are very different ways of understanding how God interacts with us, and how we live with God. How? Well, that is what we will be exploring over the next few days. In the meantime, grab a bowl of your favorite kids cereal (once again, no free product placements). A good sugar high is not just for kids.
For some unknown reason this weird commercial got me thinking about my childhood. It may have been the use of that one word, and, that set me off down the hallways of days gone by. "And" reminds me of Saturday mornings, a bowl of sugar coated sugar, and cartoons. During the commercial breaks one network (again, no free product placements) would run the greatest PSA's of all time- Schoolhouse Rock. Who said nothing good came out of the 70s (wait, I did. Oops.)
A bit of context is in order here. For a reason that I have never understood my family lived in a part of town where we could not receive the local PBS station. Remember, this is pre-cable/satellite, so we were held hostage by those little rabbit ear on top of the tube. Did my parents have an axe to grid with PBS? Were they unwilling to pay when Big Bird came by to shake everyone in the neighborhood down? Or did we really just not get the station? I do not know, but I am certain that PBS was not part of my childhood. Which means no Sesame Street, no Electric Company, nothing. Any educational programing that my siblings and I received came on Saturday morning. Thus the disproportionate influence that Schoolhouse Rock had on my life.
For those of you who are regular readers of The Blog, the following statement will come as no surprise - I am not very good with English grammar. Whatever gene is required to diagram a sentence is missing in my DNA. What little I know, and it is little, I learned on Saturday mornings. Schoolhouse Rock was the beginning, middle, and end of my education in grammar. Deeply impressed in my psyche is the ditty known as "Conjunction Junction." Whenever I hear or read the words "and" "but" or "or" I think of a railroad yard. Conjunctions connect things, or at least that is what the little conductor on "Conjunction Junction" told me. Over and over again. I had no reason to believe that the TV would lie to me. Then again, it was Saturday morning, I was hyped up on processed sugar, and thus susceptible to believe most anything.
I still hold to the conviction that conjunctions connect things. Yet, I also think that these simple words can define people and their relationship to God. There are 'and", "but", and "or" relationships. All three exist in Scripture, yet they are very different ways of understanding how God interacts with us, and how we live with God. How? Well, that is what we will be exploring over the next few days. In the meantime, grab a bowl of your favorite kids cereal (once again, no free product placements). A good sugar high is not just for kids.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Last One Standing
As I write this my mother is facing a very sad time in her life. Her little brother recently suffered a massive heart attack and his family made the difficult decision to remove all life-support systems. He is likely to pass from this world within a few hours. Her older sister is in a nursing home after having had a stroke that has left her in a coma. She is not expected to ever regain consciousness and her sons are struggling to figure out when it is time to say goodbye. My grandfather, her Dad, died before I was born and my grandmother passed almost 20 years ago. Soon, my mother will be the last member of her family left in this world.
When I was a kid I relished those few occasions when I was the only one at home. With three siblings, quality "me" time was hard to come by. I would pass up going places just so I could be home by myself, free to watch what I wanted on TV, or take a nap, or raid the kitchen. What made those times so special was the knowledge that within a few hours my family would be back home. I could enjoy the peace and quiet in part because I knew I was not going to be alone forever. The idea that my Mom, brother, or sisters would never come back again seldom crossed my mind, unless I was really mad in which case I might fantasize about the whole lot of them being abducted by aliens. Even those desires were short lived (most of the time).
Eventually all of my siblings left home for good. At one point my brother lived in Alaska, I lived in Kansas City, my mother and younger sister in St. Louis and my older sister in New York. Family reunions were and are rare. Yet they are possible. Even though my parents are divorced they are still alive. I can call either one up at will or trek to Kansas or Florida to see them. That is a nice feeling (even if I don't do it nearly as often as a good son should).
Only in her mid-60s, my mother is now alone. The memories or family vacations, holidays, and other events that were important to the Davis clan reside only with her. There is no one left to reminisce with, no one else who can recall the sights, sounds, smells and tastes. As the middle child, I doubt that my mother ever dreamed that the day would come, so early in life, when she would be home alone. For good.
Not only is she alone, but everyone else is together someplace else. What they are experiencing I don't know. One day I will find out for myself, so will my Mom. But for now, they are enjoying it without her. The longing to be reunited is a strong emotion, yet so is the desire to live a long full life. There are kids and grandkids to be loved and enjoyed. A husband to spend time with. Friends who need her. Yet, the pull must be there, to a place unseen, but real. A dearly adored Dad gone for too many years, a Mom and brother and sister and the promise of restored relationships. The communion they are all sharing at this moment will have to wait for my Mom.
One day I too may be the last one standing. I do not hope for that day. I want to live a long life, a good life, but for some reason I have no desire to be the one who gets left turning off the lights. I will happily leave that task to my younger brother or sister. At my passing they can tell all the old stories of our childhood (and a few made up ones as well) and relive the good and bad times, if they choose. I don't mind going ahead and getting things ready for them. At least I will know that there is someone to say goodbye who remembers a different me, the one that still believed in Santa, hunted for Easter eggs, and pretended to be Luke Skywalker when we played in the basement.
I love my mother more than she may realize. I hurt for her right now. I hope she can take some comfort in the promise that there will come a day when she will not be alone. Selfishly, I pray it does not come too soon. When it does, I know I will find a way to rejoice that her family is together again in the loving embrace of the God who created and loves them.
When I was a kid I relished those few occasions when I was the only one at home. With three siblings, quality "me" time was hard to come by. I would pass up going places just so I could be home by myself, free to watch what I wanted on TV, or take a nap, or raid the kitchen. What made those times so special was the knowledge that within a few hours my family would be back home. I could enjoy the peace and quiet in part because I knew I was not going to be alone forever. The idea that my Mom, brother, or sisters would never come back again seldom crossed my mind, unless I was really mad in which case I might fantasize about the whole lot of them being abducted by aliens. Even those desires were short lived (most of the time).
Eventually all of my siblings left home for good. At one point my brother lived in Alaska, I lived in Kansas City, my mother and younger sister in St. Louis and my older sister in New York. Family reunions were and are rare. Yet they are possible. Even though my parents are divorced they are still alive. I can call either one up at will or trek to Kansas or Florida to see them. That is a nice feeling (even if I don't do it nearly as often as a good son should).
Only in her mid-60s, my mother is now alone. The memories or family vacations, holidays, and other events that were important to the Davis clan reside only with her. There is no one left to reminisce with, no one else who can recall the sights, sounds, smells and tastes. As the middle child, I doubt that my mother ever dreamed that the day would come, so early in life, when she would be home alone. For good.
Not only is she alone, but everyone else is together someplace else. What they are experiencing I don't know. One day I will find out for myself, so will my Mom. But for now, they are enjoying it without her. The longing to be reunited is a strong emotion, yet so is the desire to live a long full life. There are kids and grandkids to be loved and enjoyed. A husband to spend time with. Friends who need her. Yet, the pull must be there, to a place unseen, but real. A dearly adored Dad gone for too many years, a Mom and brother and sister and the promise of restored relationships. The communion they are all sharing at this moment will have to wait for my Mom.
One day I too may be the last one standing. I do not hope for that day. I want to live a long life, a good life, but for some reason I have no desire to be the one who gets left turning off the lights. I will happily leave that task to my younger brother or sister. At my passing they can tell all the old stories of our childhood (and a few made up ones as well) and relive the good and bad times, if they choose. I don't mind going ahead and getting things ready for them. At least I will know that there is someone to say goodbye who remembers a different me, the one that still believed in Santa, hunted for Easter eggs, and pretended to be Luke Skywalker when we played in the basement.
I love my mother more than she may realize. I hurt for her right now. I hope she can take some comfort in the promise that there will come a day when she will not be alone. Selfishly, I pray it does not come too soon. When it does, I know I will find a way to rejoice that her family is together again in the loving embrace of the God who created and loves them.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Bumper Stickers
People who place bumper stickers on their cars are a unique breed. They seem not to care that the resell value of their vehicle might be compromised by using fairly strong adhesives to plaster messages across the back bumper. No, these bold road warriors have something to say to you and me and they are willing to sacrifice a few bucks and their cars to get the word out. They know that we will look at their stickers, especially if they have bright colors or they are shinny. Ohhhh, shinny... We can't help it. It is a Pavlovian reflex. We will slow down, speed up, and even risk creating a four-car pile up just to make sure we get a good look.
Some bumper stickers are pretty straight forward. They tell us what political candidate the owner supports or what school they or their children attend. They obviously feel passionate enough about these things to drive around town and tell everyone about them. And they are mildly interesting, yet easily forgotten.
The bumper stickers that most interest me, besides the really shinning ones, require a bit more thought. Not about their meaning, but about the emotional state of the driver. Let me give you a few examples:
MY CHILD BEAT UP YOUR HONOR ROLE STUDENT
Where to begin with this one? How about Prozac! Obviously, someones child is not an ace in the classroom and they are feeling just a bit insecure about it. However, given the recent anti-bullying emphasis in most schools I am not sure that you want this plastered on your car. Especially when the cops come by. Plausible deniability is a good thing when Family Services gets involved. Trust me.
DO NOT MEDDLE IN THE AFFAIRS OF DRAGONS FOR YOU ARE CRUNCHY AND GOOD WITH KETCHUP
Just as guess here, but if the owner of the vehicle is over 40 they played lots of Dungeons and Dragons as a youth. Lots. If they are under 40, many a weekend night has been spent online with World of Warcraft. In either case, I have just a few question, like how do you know humans taste good with ketchup? And when did the dragons start talking to you about their dietary habits? And why didn't they eat you..with ketchup? Just asking.
ASIDE FOR YOUR HUSBAND, HOW WAS THE THEATRE MRS. LINCOLN
I saw this in a parking lot and had to stop and make sure I was reading it correctly. And I thought I had a dark sense of humor. Someone is not yet over their dog running away from home when they were 8,are they? Nothing like this bumper sticker to announce to the world that we are dealing with some serious abandonment issues.
It is truly amazing that a few words can tell us so much about a person (or at least get us started on filling in a whole lot of blanks). So, I was wondering, what if our lives were put on a bumper sticker. I know this sounds crazy, but stay with me here. Is the message on your average tombstone really longer than a bumper sticker? Here lies Frank Smith, beloved husband and father. For at least the next 100 years that is all that most people will ever know about Frank. And the only people that will even know that scant amount of information will have to wander through the cemetery to learn it. But a bumper sticker will be viewed by thousands and thousands of people. While you are alive! Plus, you get to control the message (we all know the risks of allowing your children, who may be very disappointed to discover that their inheritance won't even cover a trip to McDonald's, the ability to choose the words that will stay with you for eternity).
So, where do you begin? What is it that defines who you are? Is it your occupation? Your marital status? Sexual orientation? Being a parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, brothers, sister, niece, nephew? How about a hobby? Perhaps a pet? Political beliefs? Dreams? Disappointments? Successes? Failures? Faith, or the lack thereof?
Tough, isn't it. Still, I think this is a useful little game to play. In all honestly, we already create mental bumper stickers for most of the people in our lives. And they do it to us. Our impressions of others are summed up in simple words and labels that make it possible for us to place them in our universe. Mary is our co-worker, single mother, and obsessed with Brad Pitt. Of course her life is more complex and complicated, but these are the first things that come to mind when we think of her. And they are about bumper sticker length. The challenge comes not in making up bumper stickers for others, but in doing so for ourselves.
Defining ourselves is a difficult task and most of us avoid even attempting to do it. We often rely on others to tell us who we are and what we believe and what is important in our lives. Don't get me wrong, community is a blessing from God and our identities are going to be shaped by the communities we are a part of. Still, do we know ourselves well enough to even come up with a few simple, yet accurate words, to describe who we are? And are we willing to risk sharing those words with others? Or is the last thing we want to see in this word is a 2001 Honda Accord running around town advertising the very essence of who we are?
Maybe that is why many of us opt not to put bumper stickers on our cars. Sure, we are worried about the resell value, but what we are ultimately concerned with is exposing ourselves.
Some bumper stickers are pretty straight forward. They tell us what political candidate the owner supports or what school they or their children attend. They obviously feel passionate enough about these things to drive around town and tell everyone about them. And they are mildly interesting, yet easily forgotten.
The bumper stickers that most interest me, besides the really shinning ones, require a bit more thought. Not about their meaning, but about the emotional state of the driver. Let me give you a few examples:
MY CHILD BEAT UP YOUR HONOR ROLE STUDENT
Where to begin with this one? How about Prozac! Obviously, someones child is not an ace in the classroom and they are feeling just a bit insecure about it. However, given the recent anti-bullying emphasis in most schools I am not sure that you want this plastered on your car. Especially when the cops come by. Plausible deniability is a good thing when Family Services gets involved. Trust me.
DO NOT MEDDLE IN THE AFFAIRS OF DRAGONS FOR YOU ARE CRUNCHY AND GOOD WITH KETCHUP
Just as guess here, but if the owner of the vehicle is over 40 they played lots of Dungeons and Dragons as a youth. Lots. If they are under 40, many a weekend night has been spent online with World of Warcraft. In either case, I have just a few question, like how do you know humans taste good with ketchup? And when did the dragons start talking to you about their dietary habits? And why didn't they eat you..with ketchup? Just asking.
ASIDE FOR YOUR HUSBAND, HOW WAS THE THEATRE MRS. LINCOLN
I saw this in a parking lot and had to stop and make sure I was reading it correctly. And I thought I had a dark sense of humor. Someone is not yet over their dog running away from home when they were 8,are they? Nothing like this bumper sticker to announce to the world that we are dealing with some serious abandonment issues.
It is truly amazing that a few words can tell us so much about a person (or at least get us started on filling in a whole lot of blanks). So, I was wondering, what if our lives were put on a bumper sticker. I know this sounds crazy, but stay with me here. Is the message on your average tombstone really longer than a bumper sticker? Here lies Frank Smith, beloved husband and father. For at least the next 100 years that is all that most people will ever know about Frank. And the only people that will even know that scant amount of information will have to wander through the cemetery to learn it. But a bumper sticker will be viewed by thousands and thousands of people. While you are alive! Plus, you get to control the message (we all know the risks of allowing your children, who may be very disappointed to discover that their inheritance won't even cover a trip to McDonald's, the ability to choose the words that will stay with you for eternity).
So, where do you begin? What is it that defines who you are? Is it your occupation? Your marital status? Sexual orientation? Being a parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, brothers, sister, niece, nephew? How about a hobby? Perhaps a pet? Political beliefs? Dreams? Disappointments? Successes? Failures? Faith, or the lack thereof?
Tough, isn't it. Still, I think this is a useful little game to play. In all honestly, we already create mental bumper stickers for most of the people in our lives. And they do it to us. Our impressions of others are summed up in simple words and labels that make it possible for us to place them in our universe. Mary is our co-worker, single mother, and obsessed with Brad Pitt. Of course her life is more complex and complicated, but these are the first things that come to mind when we think of her. And they are about bumper sticker length. The challenge comes not in making up bumper stickers for others, but in doing so for ourselves.
Defining ourselves is a difficult task and most of us avoid even attempting to do it. We often rely on others to tell us who we are and what we believe and what is important in our lives. Don't get me wrong, community is a blessing from God and our identities are going to be shaped by the communities we are a part of. Still, do we know ourselves well enough to even come up with a few simple, yet accurate words, to describe who we are? And are we willing to risk sharing those words with others? Or is the last thing we want to see in this word is a 2001 Honda Accord running around town advertising the very essence of who we are?
Maybe that is why many of us opt not to put bumper stickers on our cars. Sure, we are worried about the resell value, but what we are ultimately concerned with is exposing ourselves.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Free Samples
I consider myself lucky. Most days I am not afraid to take my kids to the store. They are reasonably well behaved. Sure, they have had theirr moments when, were it not for surveillance cameras, I would have bolted for the car without them. What parent has not felt that way. Yet, 9 times out of 10 I know that we can go to the store and I don't have to worry about being asked to leave because my kids are freaking out the other patrons. That all changes, however, if they get the faintest hint of free samples. Imagine the hoards of Genghis Khan about to plunder, or a plague of locust descending on an open field of wheat, and you get a sense of what my offspring are capable of.
I have no real clue where their approach to free samples comes from. It is not like I starve them at home. We don't deprive them of sweets (though they do have to clean their plate of fruits and veggies to get desert). I have tried to instill in them to value of that which is free. We were walking down the street last fall and some local merchants had hired a DJ to stand on the sidewalk and promote their businesses. When the DJ saw my kids and I coming his way he called us over, asked us our names, and then gave us a $10 gift certificate to the local candy store. To this day, if you ask my children, they will tell you that they only thing in the world better than chocolate is free chocolate. Still, the gusto with which my kids attack free samples goes beyond anything I can take credit for. It is instinctive, primal, and at times a bit scary.
At least their enthusiasm for free samples does not spill over into their being selfish. They each take only one and then move on to their next target. What is interesting to watch is their reaction when there are not enough samples to go around. If there is one sample available, the rules are pretty simple - whoever gets there first wins. Since two-thirds of my children are shut-out it somehow seems fair in their minds. The majority lost out, so time to look for the next free cookie sample. But when there are two samples left, well, three kids and two pieces of cake creates an interesting dynamic. Someone, and the key word here is one, is going to get left out. Misery loves company. None of my kids enjoys being the only one without icing on their face.
It is at these times that something very, very strange happens to my kids. Something that I am not sure how to handle. In the dark days of yesteryear, when I was a lad, watching one of my siblings miss out on a free sample was half the fun. Free piece of candy - great. Free piece of candy while watching your little brother have a meltdown because he did not get one - absolutely priceless. This is the type of behaviour I expect from my kids, only they don't seem all that interested in rubbing salt in an open wound. Don't get me wrong, they know each others buttons and spend countless hours pushing them, but when it comes to free samples they get all...I don't know...compassionate.
When one of my kids misses out on the free sample lottery, the others will often start searching for some other freebie (after they have devoured their free sample, of course). If they find one they call out to their sibling and then, and this is the part that really confuses me, if there are not enough to go around they will let the one who did not get the last sample go first. I am not making this up people. I have seen it with my own eyes. I tell you these kids would never have survived growing up with me as their brother. So how is it that they seem to be doing so well with me as their dad?
Naturally, many of you will want to credit my significant other for any displays of kindness and caring that our children exhibit. While not completely unfounded, this explanation would require you to ignore my wife's own childhood exploits (she has three siblings as well). The stories I could tell (but won't because she reads this blog and I want to sleep in my own bed tonight). Suffice to say she was no angel.
Parenting is an unfathomable mystery. Obviously there are direct connections that can be made between the actions of a parent and the behavior of their child. Yet, some things about raising children are beyond the realm of simple explanation. I am convinced that there is a God for no other reason than my children seem to be able to transcend so many of the issues that plague my own life. They are not perfect, believe me. Still, I watch them and realize that in spite of my own deficiencies they are turning out to be people who embody so much of what I preach about (I know God has to be involved because they never, never, listen to me preach. Ever. Under any circumstances. To be honest, I am at a loss to name a time when they do listen to me...about anything).
So, as bizarre as it may sound, I actually look forward to taking my kids to places where there are free samples. Not only do I get a tasty treat to eat, but I get to bask in the glow of my children being compassionate. Oh, and if there are enough free samples I might not have to make dinner. Sweet.
I have no real clue where their approach to free samples comes from. It is not like I starve them at home. We don't deprive them of sweets (though they do have to clean their plate of fruits and veggies to get desert). I have tried to instill in them to value of that which is free. We were walking down the street last fall and some local merchants had hired a DJ to stand on the sidewalk and promote their businesses. When the DJ saw my kids and I coming his way he called us over, asked us our names, and then gave us a $10 gift certificate to the local candy store. To this day, if you ask my children, they will tell you that they only thing in the world better than chocolate is free chocolate. Still, the gusto with which my kids attack free samples goes beyond anything I can take credit for. It is instinctive, primal, and at times a bit scary.
At least their enthusiasm for free samples does not spill over into their being selfish. They each take only one and then move on to their next target. What is interesting to watch is their reaction when there are not enough samples to go around. If there is one sample available, the rules are pretty simple - whoever gets there first wins. Since two-thirds of my children are shut-out it somehow seems fair in their minds. The majority lost out, so time to look for the next free cookie sample. But when there are two samples left, well, three kids and two pieces of cake creates an interesting dynamic. Someone, and the key word here is one, is going to get left out. Misery loves company. None of my kids enjoys being the only one without icing on their face.
It is at these times that something very, very strange happens to my kids. Something that I am not sure how to handle. In the dark days of yesteryear, when I was a lad, watching one of my siblings miss out on a free sample was half the fun. Free piece of candy - great. Free piece of candy while watching your little brother have a meltdown because he did not get one - absolutely priceless. This is the type of behaviour I expect from my kids, only they don't seem all that interested in rubbing salt in an open wound. Don't get me wrong, they know each others buttons and spend countless hours pushing them, but when it comes to free samples they get all...I don't know...compassionate.
When one of my kids misses out on the free sample lottery, the others will often start searching for some other freebie (after they have devoured their free sample, of course). If they find one they call out to their sibling and then, and this is the part that really confuses me, if there are not enough to go around they will let the one who did not get the last sample go first. I am not making this up people. I have seen it with my own eyes. I tell you these kids would never have survived growing up with me as their brother. So how is it that they seem to be doing so well with me as their dad?
Naturally, many of you will want to credit my significant other for any displays of kindness and caring that our children exhibit. While not completely unfounded, this explanation would require you to ignore my wife's own childhood exploits (she has three siblings as well). The stories I could tell (but won't because she reads this blog and I want to sleep in my own bed tonight). Suffice to say she was no angel.
Parenting is an unfathomable mystery. Obviously there are direct connections that can be made between the actions of a parent and the behavior of their child. Yet, some things about raising children are beyond the realm of simple explanation. I am convinced that there is a God for no other reason than my children seem to be able to transcend so many of the issues that plague my own life. They are not perfect, believe me. Still, I watch them and realize that in spite of my own deficiencies they are turning out to be people who embody so much of what I preach about (I know God has to be involved because they never, never, listen to me preach. Ever. Under any circumstances. To be honest, I am at a loss to name a time when they do listen to me...about anything).
So, as bizarre as it may sound, I actually look forward to taking my kids to places where there are free samples. Not only do I get a tasty treat to eat, but I get to bask in the glow of my children being compassionate. Oh, and if there are enough free samples I might not have to make dinner. Sweet.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Fear-fest
Halloween is just around the corner, which is a good thing. My family loves Halloween. We don't go all in like some folks (recreating Nightmare on Elm Street in their front yards) but we do like some age-appropriate decorations. This year we picked up a foam, ready to assemble haunted house. The task of putting this project together fell to my wife, as I am neither artsy or crafty (some day I will tell you about my misadventures with model airplanes). When she finished, with some help from our two youngest kids, I was a bit concerned. Everything seemed askew. Again, since I don't art or craft, I opted to hold my tongue and assume that she knew what she was doing. Which, of course she did, since the whole point of the haunted house was to look dilapidated and broken down.
For some reason our culture assumes that people get scared by things that look off kilter. Perhaps, but truth be told I am not freaked out by things that look messy or not properly centered. No, what sends chills up my spine, what really makes me want my mommy, is neatness. Compulsive, unnatural neatness. Nothing gives off the scent of the unholy like a perfectly organized desk. Or a closet with everything lines up and arranged by color, pattern, and/or season. Or books in perfect alphabetical order...even the children's books and the L.L. Bean catalogues. In a public library it is alright, but in a private home, well, I need to find myself some garlic and a wooden stake. If any of the above situations fits you, I just want you to know that I have nothing but love for you, but I still think you might need an exorcism. And if I splash you with Holy Water, it is nothing personal, okay. I just don't want to become part of the living dead and end up spending my days making my bed and deep cleaning the freezer.
Each off us have things that make us feel afraid. That is part of the fun of Halloween, allowing ourselves to experience fear in a safe, controlled environment. Fear works well for haunted houses, slasher flicks and trick-or-treating. Fear does not, however, have a place in the Christian faith. Unfortunately, some well-intentioned brothers and sisters in the faith don't understand this. They rely on a steady diet of fear in order to convince people to accept Jesus. Just yesterday I was driving on the interstate and on the east side of the road were two large billboard. The first said "If you died today, where would you spend eternity?" and the one a few feet after it read "Hell is real."
Evangelism by fear is not new. People have been doing it for centuries. Sometimes they tell stories about the consequences awaiting sinners, or create elaborate paintings of the eternal suffering in Hades. There are even movies that try to warn you about the chaos that will happen if the Rapture comes and you get left behind. I know, I was forced to watch such a film when I was only 10. I don't think I slept for a week.
There are a number of problems with using fear to encourage people to get right with God, but two really stick out to me. First, anyone with a elementary understanding of psychology will know that fear is a bad motivator for behavior. Sure, you get that initial bust of OMG, but it does not last. And the damage done to people who live under a constant threat of fear is well documented. Jesus preached Good News full of hope and promise and joy and love, not everlasting fear.
But the biggest reason that fear is a horrible tool for evangelism is that it encourages people to approach God for all the wrong reasons. Take our lovely billboards. What is the real point they are trying to convey? If you want to avoid hell, accept Jesus. Where is the focus? On Jesus? No. The center of the universe is you. Any actions you take will be based out of protecting yourself. Evangelism by fear encourages people to be self-centered and self-absorbed. It is all about you. Yet, the Good News that Jesus preached and lived was about turning our attention to God and to others. Our actions are not motivated by fear but gratitude and thanksgiving. We come to God and offer our lives because we are full of joy for all that God has done for us. This is what Jesus came to show us. Every time Jesus reached out to someone it was to bring a positive change to their lives and then, in response, he encouraged them to follow him and serve others. Faith in Jesus frees us from living out of fear. Eternal life is a gift, not a sledgehammer to be used to bludgeon people into submission.
If you are new to the faith, let me encourage you to experience the love and peace that Jesus offers. It is truly liberating! Don't be afraid, for there is nothing to fear. God's love for you is rooted in something deeper and more powerful than fear or death. For that is the whole point of the resurrection, that with love Jesus was able to conquer death. The first word from God was life, and the last word is life. Not fear.
For some reason our culture assumes that people get scared by things that look off kilter. Perhaps, but truth be told I am not freaked out by things that look messy or not properly centered. No, what sends chills up my spine, what really makes me want my mommy, is neatness. Compulsive, unnatural neatness. Nothing gives off the scent of the unholy like a perfectly organized desk. Or a closet with everything lines up and arranged by color, pattern, and/or season. Or books in perfect alphabetical order...even the children's books and the L.L. Bean catalogues. In a public library it is alright, but in a private home, well, I need to find myself some garlic and a wooden stake. If any of the above situations fits you, I just want you to know that I have nothing but love for you, but I still think you might need an exorcism. And if I splash you with Holy Water, it is nothing personal, okay. I just don't want to become part of the living dead and end up spending my days making my bed and deep cleaning the freezer.
Each off us have things that make us feel afraid. That is part of the fun of Halloween, allowing ourselves to experience fear in a safe, controlled environment. Fear works well for haunted houses, slasher flicks and trick-or-treating. Fear does not, however, have a place in the Christian faith. Unfortunately, some well-intentioned brothers and sisters in the faith don't understand this. They rely on a steady diet of fear in order to convince people to accept Jesus. Just yesterday I was driving on the interstate and on the east side of the road were two large billboard. The first said "If you died today, where would you spend eternity?" and the one a few feet after it read "Hell is real."
Evangelism by fear is not new. People have been doing it for centuries. Sometimes they tell stories about the consequences awaiting sinners, or create elaborate paintings of the eternal suffering in Hades. There are even movies that try to warn you about the chaos that will happen if the Rapture comes and you get left behind. I know, I was forced to watch such a film when I was only 10. I don't think I slept for a week.
There are a number of problems with using fear to encourage people to get right with God, but two really stick out to me. First, anyone with a elementary understanding of psychology will know that fear is a bad motivator for behavior. Sure, you get that initial bust of OMG, but it does not last. And the damage done to people who live under a constant threat of fear is well documented. Jesus preached Good News full of hope and promise and joy and love, not everlasting fear.
But the biggest reason that fear is a horrible tool for evangelism is that it encourages people to approach God for all the wrong reasons. Take our lovely billboards. What is the real point they are trying to convey? If you want to avoid hell, accept Jesus. Where is the focus? On Jesus? No. The center of the universe is you. Any actions you take will be based out of protecting yourself. Evangelism by fear encourages people to be self-centered and self-absorbed. It is all about you. Yet, the Good News that Jesus preached and lived was about turning our attention to God and to others. Our actions are not motivated by fear but gratitude and thanksgiving. We come to God and offer our lives because we are full of joy for all that God has done for us. This is what Jesus came to show us. Every time Jesus reached out to someone it was to bring a positive change to their lives and then, in response, he encouraged them to follow him and serve others. Faith in Jesus frees us from living out of fear. Eternal life is a gift, not a sledgehammer to be used to bludgeon people into submission.
If you are new to the faith, let me encourage you to experience the love and peace that Jesus offers. It is truly liberating! Don't be afraid, for there is nothing to fear. God's love for you is rooted in something deeper and more powerful than fear or death. For that is the whole point of the resurrection, that with love Jesus was able to conquer death. The first word from God was life, and the last word is life. Not fear.
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