“It’s one less thing I have to think about.” That’s that advertising strategy now for a fabric softener that you attach to the wall of your dryer. Come to think of it, it’s the same concept as a birth control contraceptive, denture adhesive, and toilet paper rolls with three times the paper so that you don’t have to change the roll as often. Where’s it all going to end?
More important to me than when this could end is what this trend seems to be indicative of—what does it say about us? Is taking our medication everyday really that big a hardship? Is it really so hard to remember to grab a dryer sheet for the dryer? Are we that lazy, busy, or distracted that we have to have so much more paper on hand to make sure our behinds get cleaned?
Here’s an old-fashioned word for you: mindfulness. It seems old-fashioned because it’s really quite out of fashion to act, think, and behave in a mind-full manner. We aren’t mind-full of what we eat when we eat. We’re usually stuffing our faces at our desks, in front of the TV, or while we drive down the road. Most people can’t remember the last time they sat as a family and enjoyed a meal with conversation—they probably can’t even tell you what they ate for dinner. This lack of mindfulness results in our overeating which only adds to the overwhelming battle of the bulge plaguing our society.
Our language is just as concerning. We speak without realizing what we’re saying to whom and where. I’ve taught job skill classes to folks who are completely unaware of their use of expletives as adjectives. When you ask them what they said they can’t tell you. There’s no sense of the inappropriateness of certain conversations in front of different people or in different places.
Lack of mindfulness doesn’t stop there. I believe it’s a serious problem for us as believers. How many times have you gone to worship with a multitude of things vying for our attention, only to leave and be unable to answer basic questions about the morning message. We give way to any number of distractions rather than focusing our hearts and minds on the matters that ultimately matter.
Do you realize that God is mindful of you? The Psalmist marvels at this as he asks the question: what is man that you are mindful of him? (Psalm 8) We’re told in the New Testament that God knows exactly how many hairs are on each of our heads. Imagine that. Nothing happens to us that catches him unaware. He doesn’t need a sticky note to be reminded to meet our need. We are never an item that is crossed off his To Do List. How is it that we think we can operate less mindfully of Him?
I believe the Word gives us two means for living more intentionally and mindfully. First, Jesus taught his followers the key is what we seek first. “Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things (the stuff of life and living—including dryer sheets) will be added unto you. (Matthew 6:33) We don’t need one less thing to think about spiritually, we need to think about putting the right thing first. We are also to: 2Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Hebrews 12:2-3) Consider him, be mindful of him, so that you will not grow weary, lose heart, or become spiritually lazy.
Do you really need one less thing to think about or do you need to getting your thinking prioritized? There’s an old hymn that might make the process a little easier: Turn your eyes upon Jesus…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QR0LiRiz4l4
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Lent Day 3: Sacrifice of Praise
“And you’ll need to reduce your daily caffeine consumption—probably in half.” These were some of the words I heard this week. Not easy words to swallow. I think I’ll be good to go decaf on my tea (hot and cold), but I have yet to find a decaf coffee that tastes good to me. It wasn’t difficult to give up caffeinated pop, which resulted in giving it up practically all together. That was a logical choice after I took the time to consider the amount of sugar and sodium in a can of pop. It was such an easy “sacrifice” that I sometimes wonder if it was a true sacrifice. Is something that easy really a sacrifice?
Now I am faced with a different type of dilemma. Caffeine is having a negative and unhealthy effect on my heart. It’s no longer a recommendation that I consider. I am being told I need to give it up. There’s a period at the end of that sentence, not a comma followed by another option. The doctor wasn’t making a suggestion. He was just telling me to do it. No “how”, just “do.”
I shared this with my ladies at Curves. They, of course, had many suggestions on how to accomplish this. A few decided to remind me that I shouldn’t just address my tea and coffee intake, but that I also needed to factor in the chocolate I eat. I could have gone all day without thinking about that. Many offered the thought that I could probably justify eating a small square of dark chocolate every other day or so. Who were they kidding? Small amount and chocolate never occupy the same sentence or action of consumption for me. It’s definitely time to rethink life as I know it.
Thinking about this I began to consider the irony that this new way of life should come during the season of Lent, the time when we focus on sacrifice. One might actually hear a chuckle coming from the throne room of heaven. Does God want me to give something up in a temporary act of sacrifice or does He want me to think about a whole new way of living? The scales seem to be tipping in favor of the latter.
As I sat reflecting on this new dietary direction for my life, I began to think about what sacrifice God might be wanting from me. A phrase from scripture came to mind: sacrifice of praise. Immediately I was humming the chorus, “We bring the sacrifice of praise into the house of the Lord.” But where did that come from and what does it mean?
In Hebrews 13 we are instructed to bring our sacrifice of praise. Here are those verses in a couple different translations. Read them through slowly and let God speak to you.
15 Therefore, let us offer through Jesus a continual sacrifice of praise to God, proclaiming our allegiance to his name. 16 And don’t forget to do good and to share with those in need. These are the sacrifices that please God. (New Living Translation)
13-15So let's go outside, where Jesus is, where the action is—not trying to be privileged insiders, but taking our share in the abuse of Jesus. This "insider world" is not our home. We have our eyes peeled for the City about to come. Let's take our place outside with Jesus, no longer pouring out the sacrificial blood of animals but pouring out sacrificial praises from our lips to God in Jesus' name. (The Message)
Accomplishing what is required in these verses is going to require a spiritual lifestyle change. And like what the doctor is requiring of me for my heart’s sake, there is no option, no comma, just the clear instruction to do it. This is not a flippant or easy giving up for forty days, this is a radical rethinking of how I live. How will you respond?
Now I am faced with a different type of dilemma. Caffeine is having a negative and unhealthy effect on my heart. It’s no longer a recommendation that I consider. I am being told I need to give it up. There’s a period at the end of that sentence, not a comma followed by another option. The doctor wasn’t making a suggestion. He was just telling me to do it. No “how”, just “do.”
I shared this with my ladies at Curves. They, of course, had many suggestions on how to accomplish this. A few decided to remind me that I shouldn’t just address my tea and coffee intake, but that I also needed to factor in the chocolate I eat. I could have gone all day without thinking about that. Many offered the thought that I could probably justify eating a small square of dark chocolate every other day or so. Who were they kidding? Small amount and chocolate never occupy the same sentence or action of consumption for me. It’s definitely time to rethink life as I know it.
Thinking about this I began to consider the irony that this new way of life should come during the season of Lent, the time when we focus on sacrifice. One might actually hear a chuckle coming from the throne room of heaven. Does God want me to give something up in a temporary act of sacrifice or does He want me to think about a whole new way of living? The scales seem to be tipping in favor of the latter.
As I sat reflecting on this new dietary direction for my life, I began to think about what sacrifice God might be wanting from me. A phrase from scripture came to mind: sacrifice of praise. Immediately I was humming the chorus, “We bring the sacrifice of praise into the house of the Lord.” But where did that come from and what does it mean?
In Hebrews 13 we are instructed to bring our sacrifice of praise. Here are those verses in a couple different translations. Read them through slowly and let God speak to you.
15 Therefore, let us offer through Jesus a continual sacrifice of praise to God, proclaiming our allegiance to his name. 16 And don’t forget to do good and to share with those in need. These are the sacrifices that please God. (New Living Translation)
13-15So let's go outside, where Jesus is, where the action is—not trying to be privileged insiders, but taking our share in the abuse of Jesus. This "insider world" is not our home. We have our eyes peeled for the City about to come. Let's take our place outside with Jesus, no longer pouring out the sacrificial blood of animals but pouring out sacrificial praises from our lips to God in Jesus' name. (The Message)
Accomplishing what is required in these verses is going to require a spiritual lifestyle change. And like what the doctor is requiring of me for my heart’s sake, there is no option, no comma, just the clear instruction to do it. This is not a flippant or easy giving up for forty days, this is a radical rethinking of how I live. How will you respond?
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Lent Day 2: Salt
How much salt have you had today? I had an appointment with a cardiologist this week. One part of our discussion focused on my high blood pressure. Next week I’ll have a stress test and after that we’ll discuss medication. Thinking about this got me to thinking about how much salt, sodium, I’ve been consuming. It also got me to thinking about Jesus’ teaching that the disciples were the salt of the earth.
Have you given much thought to how salty you were today? I have always attributed being salt to adding flavor (zest) to life, or being a preserver of what is good and right. It has also been suggested that a person who is worth their salt (by the way, that’s where we get our word salary from) is someone who can be counted upon. This concept, in particular, seems to ring true when you consider that Jesus
goes on to ask, “What good is salt that has lost its saltiness?”
Have you ever considered that being dependable is a sacrifice? Are you willing to make that sacrifice? I’m not suggesting that we be a doormat for the world to take advantage of, but it is important that we can be counted on—otherwise, we’re only good for throwing underfoot. I’m just not ready to be trampled on, how about you?
One of the other things that has always that stood out to me was the way Jesus TOLD them they were salt. He didn’t suggest it. He didn’t tell them that they were going to grow into being salt someday. They were salt. It was as if Jesus was saying, “This is what you are—what are you going to do about it?” Will you be what you were created to be?
While I was typing this Asher came in the office. I was reading my writing out loud. He heard me say that Jesus said we are salt. He wanted to know what that meant. So as best I could I tried to explain it to him. He decided he didn’t want to be salt. There are a lot of folks like Asher who just seem to have opted out of being who they were created to be. Sadly, some of those folks are hanging around the Body, the Church. They grumble about a lot of things, including that they don’t feel like the Church, the Body, does anything for them.
The more I thought about this the more I started to laugh. It seemed to me that this kind of thinking would be like eating French fries, popcorn, or potato chips so that my salt would taste good. It’s not the other stuff of life or other people who are to make us appreciate our saltiness. We need to get it right: the world is in need of our saltiness. So how about you? Can your corner of the world count on you to bring all the qualities of healing, preserving, seasoning, that are attributed to salt? Will you be who you were created to be or just be tossed aside? Consider Peterson’s translation of this verse in The Message: 13"Let me tell you why you are here. You're here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You've lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage. (Matthew 5:13).
Have you given much thought to how salty you were today? I have always attributed being salt to adding flavor (zest) to life, or being a preserver of what is good and right. It has also been suggested that a person who is worth their salt (by the way, that’s where we get our word salary from) is someone who can be counted upon. This concept, in particular, seems to ring true when you consider that Jesus
goes on to ask, “What good is salt that has lost its saltiness?”
Have you ever considered that being dependable is a sacrifice? Are you willing to make that sacrifice? I’m not suggesting that we be a doormat for the world to take advantage of, but it is important that we can be counted on—otherwise, we’re only good for throwing underfoot. I’m just not ready to be trampled on, how about you?
One of the other things that has always that stood out to me was the way Jesus TOLD them they were salt. He didn’t suggest it. He didn’t tell them that they were going to grow into being salt someday. They were salt. It was as if Jesus was saying, “This is what you are—what are you going to do about it?” Will you be what you were created to be?
While I was typing this Asher came in the office. I was reading my writing out loud. He heard me say that Jesus said we are salt. He wanted to know what that meant. So as best I could I tried to explain it to him. He decided he didn’t want to be salt. There are a lot of folks like Asher who just seem to have opted out of being who they were created to be. Sadly, some of those folks are hanging around the Body, the Church. They grumble about a lot of things, including that they don’t feel like the Church, the Body, does anything for them.
The more I thought about this the more I started to laugh. It seemed to me that this kind of thinking would be like eating French fries, popcorn, or potato chips so that my salt would taste good. It’s not the other stuff of life or other people who are to make us appreciate our saltiness. We need to get it right: the world is in need of our saltiness. So how about you? Can your corner of the world count on you to bring all the qualities of healing, preserving, seasoning, that are attributed to salt? Will you be who you were created to be or just be tossed aside? Consider Peterson’s translation of this verse in The Message: 13"Let me tell you why you are here. You're here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You've lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage. (Matthew 5:13).
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Lent Day 1: Honesty
“Mema, I need scissors to get crayon out of my tooth.” This is how the conversation started with my grandson. I took him to the bathroom to get one of his floss sticks. And then I asked, “Asher, how did crayon get in your tooth?” He replied without missing a beat and with complete candor: “I was coloring and it just got in there.” I assured him that I was pretty sure that the crayon did not “just get” into his mouth.
The problem is as old as Adam. When confronted by God about the apple cores lying on the ground,
Adam had the audacity to blame God: “That woman you gave me…” It is so hard to accept personal responsibility for what happens. It’s much easier to blame everyone else. A woman burns her mouth drinking hot coffee and sues the company for making the coffee hot instead owning up that she probably shouldn’t have been trying to drink it while she was driving.
I was reminded of this not long ago while I was watching a basketball game. One of the giants on the court committed a foul so flagrant that even a novice like me could call it, but instead of raising his hand (like we were taught to do in school when you committed a foul), he ran to the ref and in an animated fashion began loudly (and with multiple expletives) arguing his case for innocence. No one including the ref was buying the argument. It was almost as believable as a crayon jumping into your mouth.
In 2002, Nelson and I had to declare bankruptcy after I lost my jobs and his restaurants closed. As we met with our attorney (who was also a court magistrate in our county), we were discussing my legal situation. She asked me a question that absolutely floored me. With all seriousness, she asked why in the world I turned myself in, why didn’t I just lie about it—no one would have ever known. No one but me. No one but God.
So here we are at the beginning of Lent. Let’s start by being honest. Let’s own up to our mess ups. Let’s not blame others. Let’s give up hiding. Raise your hand. Own your behavior. The old timers call it confession. The Word tells us: 8If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. 9If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:8-9, NIV) I just have to believe we will all feel better with a little less crayon in our teeth.
The problem is as old as Adam. When confronted by God about the apple cores lying on the ground,
Adam had the audacity to blame God: “That woman you gave me…” It is so hard to accept personal responsibility for what happens. It’s much easier to blame everyone else. A woman burns her mouth drinking hot coffee and sues the company for making the coffee hot instead owning up that she probably shouldn’t have been trying to drink it while she was driving.
I was reminded of this not long ago while I was watching a basketball game. One of the giants on the court committed a foul so flagrant that even a novice like me could call it, but instead of raising his hand (like we were taught to do in school when you committed a foul), he ran to the ref and in an animated fashion began loudly (and with multiple expletives) arguing his case for innocence. No one including the ref was buying the argument. It was almost as believable as a crayon jumping into your mouth.
In 2002, Nelson and I had to declare bankruptcy after I lost my jobs and his restaurants closed. As we met with our attorney (who was also a court magistrate in our county), we were discussing my legal situation. She asked me a question that absolutely floored me. With all seriousness, she asked why in the world I turned myself in, why didn’t I just lie about it—no one would have ever known. No one but me. No one but God.
So here we are at the beginning of Lent. Let’s start by being honest. Let’s own up to our mess ups. Let’s not blame others. Let’s give up hiding. Raise your hand. Own your behavior. The old timers call it confession. The Word tells us: 8If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. 9If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:8-9, NIV) I just have to believe we will all feel better with a little less crayon in our teeth.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Lenten Journey
I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been distracted by all the snow, or battling illness or one sort or another, but I was floored the other day when I realized that Lent begins next Wednesday. For me the season of preparation for the celebration of the sacrifice and wonder of our Savior’s death and resurrection takes thought and time. In the past I have given much prayer and meditation to what should be the focus of my Lenten preparation. I seek God’s leading rather than my interest so that the experience can have greater impact and I’ll be more able to follow through. The old days of giving up chocolate have lost their spiritual power for me.
So when I opened my email and found something from Christianity Today about Lent I decided to take the time to see what was there. I’m very glad I did. Here are two quotes that really struck a chord with me:
We don't have the perspective needed to choose the things that will really change us. (Deep down, we may not even want to change. I like to say, "Everyone wants to be transformed, but nobody wants to change.")
Without the observance of Lent, and Holy Week in particular, Easter Sunday fails to keep in proper balance the Cross and the Resurrection as the two main New Testament paradigms for the Christian life. The dominant paradigm for Christian discipleship this side of heaven is "sharing in his sufferings" (Phil. 3:10).
(Source: Steven R. Harmon, author of Ecumenism Means You, Too, Frederica Mathewes-Green, the author of The Jesus Prayer, and Michael Horton, author of The Gospel-Driven Life, suggest why Christians should care about Lent.)
The first thing I noticed was the truth that we don’t know or have the proper perspective. Does that bristle anything in you? In the evangelical mainstream, we tend to think that we know what’s best for us spiritually. We shun the suggestion that we might actually gain from an outside source. And goodness knows, we don’t think we need an intermediary. The problem with that is that while we may think we know what we need, if we’d do the honest soul exploring, we’d see that we most often fall short when it comes to spiritual depth. This is probably due to the second part of that quote. We know we want to and definitely need to be transformed (Romans 12:1), but we are usually quite comfortable with the way things are, so the hard work of change never gets done.
Observance of Lent, or Advent for that matter, involves discipline. I don’t know about you, but I’m not very good at the “d” word. Whether it has to do with my latest commitment to living healthy, keeping my house clean, or developing a writing habit, I just think sometimes that I was born without the discipline bone in my body. Perhaps that is partly why I have always struggled with making it the whole forty days without eating chocolate, or drinking pop, or watching TV less. I have often wanted to fall back on “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” Truth be told, I just haven’t been convinced enough to make the commitment and do the hard work to change. Bottom line: I’m just spiritually lazy.
Then I read the second quote and I get another insight into my reluctance to change. People who sign on to suffer are generally considered to have some type of mental problem. When I read the Philippian passage, I can get excited about wanting to know Christ more. I’m right with Paul until he has to throw in the part about “sharing in his sufferings.” I am all about the power of the resurrection! I love celebrating the triumph. Easter morning is a wonderful time. Jesus won! We win, too! It reminds me of how I love to celebrate the gift of Christmas, but I forget how much it cost to give the gift.
Knowing these things about myself, knowing how my heart yearns for greater depth, I am now challenged to bring heart, soul, mind, and strength into focus. As I started meditating and contemplating, I began to formulate some questions. What will change me, not just challenge me for forty days? What can I do to redeem the suffering of my Lord and Savior? How will I specifically join him in the work of extending grace to others? This was not a comfortable process. I began to see that if I was going to be serious about this, I was going to have to get used to being uncomfortable.
There’s a phrase in the gospel that described how Jesus moved into and prepared for the suffering that was ahead. It said that Jesus set his face to Jerusalem. Now while setting one’s face can involve catching a vision, greater emphasis seems to be placed on determination. (Oh great, another “d” word!) As Jesus moves toward the inevitability of what lies ahead in Jerusalem, I am comforted in the fact that he does not make this journey alone. Perhaps this is a truth that will help me in my own journey. I can go, knowing that there is one who goes with me who has already made the journey. But just as Jesus brought his closest friends in close, I can draw on the spiritual friends and mentors to assist me in the challenges and difficult moments I will face also.
I have purposely not told you what I’m going to do. Partly that’s because I don’t want to influence your choices. I just want to invite to move deeper and see where that will take you. It’s also because right now, I’m still not sure. But this I will commit to: I’m determined to figure it out. How about you?
So when I opened my email and found something from Christianity Today about Lent I decided to take the time to see what was there. I’m very glad I did. Here are two quotes that really struck a chord with me:
We don't have the perspective needed to choose the things that will really change us. (Deep down, we may not even want to change. I like to say, "Everyone wants to be transformed, but nobody wants to change.")
Without the observance of Lent, and Holy Week in particular, Easter Sunday fails to keep in proper balance the Cross and the Resurrection as the two main New Testament paradigms for the Christian life. The dominant paradigm for Christian discipleship this side of heaven is "sharing in his sufferings" (Phil. 3:10).
(Source: Steven R. Harmon, author of Ecumenism Means You, Too, Frederica Mathewes-Green, the author of The Jesus Prayer, and Michael Horton, author of The Gospel-Driven Life, suggest why Christians should care about Lent.)
The first thing I noticed was the truth that we don’t know or have the proper perspective. Does that bristle anything in you? In the evangelical mainstream, we tend to think that we know what’s best for us spiritually. We shun the suggestion that we might actually gain from an outside source. And goodness knows, we don’t think we need an intermediary. The problem with that is that while we may think we know what we need, if we’d do the honest soul exploring, we’d see that we most often fall short when it comes to spiritual depth. This is probably due to the second part of that quote. We know we want to and definitely need to be transformed (Romans 12:1), but we are usually quite comfortable with the way things are, so the hard work of change never gets done.
Observance of Lent, or Advent for that matter, involves discipline. I don’t know about you, but I’m not very good at the “d” word. Whether it has to do with my latest commitment to living healthy, keeping my house clean, or developing a writing habit, I just think sometimes that I was born without the discipline bone in my body. Perhaps that is partly why I have always struggled with making it the whole forty days without eating chocolate, or drinking pop, or watching TV less. I have often wanted to fall back on “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” Truth be told, I just haven’t been convinced enough to make the commitment and do the hard work to change. Bottom line: I’m just spiritually lazy.
Then I read the second quote and I get another insight into my reluctance to change. People who sign on to suffer are generally considered to have some type of mental problem. When I read the Philippian passage, I can get excited about wanting to know Christ more. I’m right with Paul until he has to throw in the part about “sharing in his sufferings.” I am all about the power of the resurrection! I love celebrating the triumph. Easter morning is a wonderful time. Jesus won! We win, too! It reminds me of how I love to celebrate the gift of Christmas, but I forget how much it cost to give the gift.
Knowing these things about myself, knowing how my heart yearns for greater depth, I am now challenged to bring heart, soul, mind, and strength into focus. As I started meditating and contemplating, I began to formulate some questions. What will change me, not just challenge me for forty days? What can I do to redeem the suffering of my Lord and Savior? How will I specifically join him in the work of extending grace to others? This was not a comfortable process. I began to see that if I was going to be serious about this, I was going to have to get used to being uncomfortable.
There’s a phrase in the gospel that described how Jesus moved into and prepared for the suffering that was ahead. It said that Jesus set his face to Jerusalem. Now while setting one’s face can involve catching a vision, greater emphasis seems to be placed on determination. (Oh great, another “d” word!) As Jesus moves toward the inevitability of what lies ahead in Jerusalem, I am comforted in the fact that he does not make this journey alone. Perhaps this is a truth that will help me in my own journey. I can go, knowing that there is one who goes with me who has already made the journey. But just as Jesus brought his closest friends in close, I can draw on the spiritual friends and mentors to assist me in the challenges and difficult moments I will face also.
I have purposely not told you what I’m going to do. Partly that’s because I don’t want to influence your choices. I just want to invite to move deeper and see where that will take you. It’s also because right now, I’m still not sure. But this I will commit to: I’m determined to figure it out. How about you?
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