I was listening to an Andy Stanley Your Move video early this morning. He was talking about how good we are in selling ourselves on bad decisions. Stanley said that the problem is our hearts. He referred to Jeremiah 17:9, so I had a look at it. Here is my own rather wooden translation of the verse:
“Treacherous is the heart above all things,
And incurably sick;
Who can know it?”
Now, I know that it is fashionable these days to give and receive such advice as “Follow your heart!” Since we think of the heart as the source of feelings, we may simply mean “If it feels right, it probably is right.”
Sometimes, that may actually work, but as a principle, I have two huge problems with it. One is related to the meaning of the word lëb in Hebrew, and the other problem is with the underlying assumption that the human heart is reliable.
From the standpoint of the Hebrew word itself, the problem, at least as I see it, is this: The Hebrew word lëb rarely has anything to do with feelings. It has more to do with thinking. Our modern distinction between the heart and the head may make some sense to us, but it probably wouldn’t probably make any sense to Jeremiah or other ancient Hebrew.
So, if I am correct in this, what Jeremiah is actually saying is that our thinking process is treacherous and incurably sick.
Well, of course, my thinking is not treacherous and terminally ill. Yours, on the other hand, I do sometimes wonder about.
No, I wonder about my own as well. I can talk myself out of doing good things, and into doing bad things incredibly easily. My heart (a.k.a., my mind) has a great capacity to fool itself.
In on other words, the heart of the matter, no matter what the matter is, is the matter of the heart. And the problem is that the heart of the matter of the matter of the heart is that something is terribly the matter with the heart.
Christians call this “sin.” Sin is not simply, or even primarily, what we do. Sin undergirds all that we do, because everything what we do flows out of the flawed heart/mind. This is one of the reasons why merely changing our behavior rarely solves very many problems.
But the Bible also speaks of a God who can change our hearts. Both the Old Testament and New Testament speak of this change of heart. While we certainly need to cooperate in this change of heart (Proverbs 4:23; Romans 10:10), it is primarily something that God does in and for us (Ezekiel 11:19; 36:25-27; Romans 2:29; Psalm 51:10).
A heart/mind transplant is tricky, but God knows what God is doing. God can get to the heart of the matter, and can deal with what’s the matter with the heart.
I just discovered that two of my favorite musicians have a close connection. I had no idea before today.
I have loved Al Stewart for decades. I was listening to a cd of his song “Time Passages,” when the name Peter White came up. I supposed (correctly) that Peter White was the writer or co-writer of “Time Passages.”
And then it hit me: Was this the same Peter White whose smooth jazz guitar I have come to love through AccuRadio? “Peter White” is a fairly common name, but . . .
And, sure enough, it was the same Peter White! Cool! In fact, Peter White not only helped write that song, but many others that Stewart performed. They collaborated on music for some twenty years. White also played in Stewart’s band, and is behind many of the great guitar licks on “Time Passages” and other Stewart songs.
Have you ever had a similar experience with two people that you know personally and like a lot? You suddenly discover that, not only do they know one another; they are also good friends with one another, as well as with you.
And what do you experience in that moment? Happiness? Or jealousy? Or some mixture of the two?
I may be a uniquely selfish, possessive person, but I rather doubt it. Mixed feelings are probably normal feelings.
And yet . . . And yet!
The music, in all its glory and beauty, is in the collaboration, isn’t it? Stewart without White is simply good, but not as good.
And what do I bring to the party? Appreciation! Gratitude! Happiness!
I have a couple of good friends. We’ll call them “Steve” and “Will.” Due to distance, we don’t get together physically very often, but we frequently call. We pray for one another, hold one another accountable, give advice when asked (and sometimes, when not asked), and mostly encourage one another. No jealousy!
Where the choice between happiness and jealousy becomes more important and much murkier is with husbands and wives. I do not believe in “open marriages.” Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I think that I am just plain right on this one. Marriage should be a committed and exclusive relationship.
On the other hand, maybe it shouldn’t.
Now, before both my friends and my wife think that I’ve lost my mind, let me explain. My wife is, right now, taking care of her mom. Mom is probably at a “transitional point” in life. The expression “transitional point” is a euphemism for no longer being able to live in her own home. For the past couple of years, my “retired” (??) wife has been helping care for her mom. This, of course, means that I have had to “share” my wife with her mom.
Have I always been happy about this? No. Have I sometimes been jealous? Yes.
But, whenever I begin to feel the “Green Monster” of jealousy stir in my heart and mind, I remind myself of one very important fact: Real love for one is ultimately real love for all. Love is one of those things—like joy itself—that grows the more it is shared.
So, I try to remember that loving collaboration is where the music is, that the more my sweetheart loves her mom and others, the more love she has for me as well. Al Stewart is good on his own. So is Peter White. Put then together, and they’re dynamite.
I choose happiness!
I just watched two characters “die” on reruns of two of my favorite TV shows—“The Big Bang Theory” and “NCIS”. This is particularly difficult because my sweet princess is gone for the night. Now, I have to cry myself to sleep all by myself. Poor, pitiful me!
Actually, I didn’t see either of them “die” on camera. However, it still feels sad. But then, I get sad very easily.
Howard Wolowitz’s mother simply went to sleep while visiting her sister in Florida, and never woke up. That’s a good way to go, I guess, if there is any good way to go.
Agent Reeves, however, was shot to death protecting Abby during a robbery. I was never that attached to his character, but now that he’s gone, I’m sad. I miss him. And of course, there is the English accent.
But it occurs to me that real people also fill a niche, even when we don’t know them well, even when we may not like them a lot. Perhaps everyone fills a niche in our hearts, and we fill a niche in their hearts as well.
The Apostle Paul said that if one believer suffers, all believers suffer (1 Corinthians 12:26). But perhaps this isn’t just true for believers. Maybe it’s true for everyone.
I don’t know about you, but I feel exceedingly unimportant most of the time. Yes, I know, it’s just a feeling. It may be very far from the truth. Still, it is what I feel sometimes.
However, maybe I should dare to believe that, just as others—even fictional characters on tv—have a place in my heart, so I have a place in the hearts of others.
We can choose to cherish other niche-y people, and we can fill our own place in their hearts with as much faithfulness as we can. We are all in this thing together, this thing called life. We need to play our parts well.
My verse of the day today on my smart phone ap was this:
“ Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord.” (1 Corinthians 15:58, New American Standard Bible, 1995)
I often tell my students, “C.I.E.” This stands for “Context Is Everything!” If you don’t pay attention to the surroundings of a verse, you will not really understand that verse. Or, at the very least, you won’t understand it as well as you could. So, what is the context of 1 Corinthians 15:58?
This verse, in what we call Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, is the practical conclusion of a very important section of teaching. The Corinthian Christians were a pretty messed-up group in a whole bunch of ways. One of those ways was that they did not believe in a real, physical resurrection from the dead.
Paul responds to this is several ways. There isn’t the time in a blog post to go into all of those in depth, so I’ll summarize. Paul basically points out that:
Paul could deal with some pretty deep issues at times. Although I’ve studied him a great deal, and taught classes on his life and writings, I feel as if I’ve just scratched the surface.
And yet, Paul almost always ends his discussions of abstract matters on a very practical, down-to-earth note. After discussing the Christian doctrine of physical resurrection, Paul basically says, “So get busy, and stay busy doing what you should!”
What on earth (pun optional) does what we do here and now have to do with resurrection?!
Actually, the resurrection has a great deal to do with what we do here and now. Think about it: What is it, ultimately, that calls all our efforts in this life into question? Is it not death? I have heard it said, “Life is hard, and after that you die.” This is a common philosophy.
But if, as Paul and the other early Christian cats taught, death is not the final word, then life—and what we do in it—matter a great deal.
Interestingly, the verbs in the original Greek of 1 Corinthians 15:58 are all in the present tense. This suggests continual or on-going action. Since the resurrection of the dead is true, the Corinthian believers must continually be steadfast, immovable, continually abounding in the work of the Lord, continually knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord. (If the present tense wasn’t enough, Paul adds the Greek word for “always” just before the bit about abounding in the work of the Lord! Paul was never bashful about piling on words to make what he was saying clear.)
Today, I begin teaching a course in the regular undergraduate program at the university. I have always taught in the College of Adult Learning, which was populated with people who were closer to my age. I am also using a Bible software that I had never used until about ten days ago. My affirmation, sent to my 12-step sponsor this morning, is as follows:
Today, by God’s grace, I am humble confidence. This combination will honor God, be helpful to students, and will be true to who I am.
Perhaps, in light of the resurrection, I should actually try believing this.
Sunday, August 26, 2018
“5 And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons?
“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
nor be weary when reproved by him.
6 For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and chastises every son whom he receives.” (Hebrews 11:5-6)
The pain is still present. What would happen if I simply welcomed it?
All problems are made worse by resisting them. So, perhaps the opposite approach might be helpful.
I am not talking about passivity. Few things are more active and dynamic than genuine acceptance.
I suppose that I am like every other person/animal in the world. I don’t desire pain. Yet pain is necessary. Without it, how would I ever change? Without pain I would have died years ago.
My father-in-law had diabetes. As is usually the case, late in his life he was plagued with neuropathy—a fancy, medical term that means his nerves couldn’t feel pain. Once, when he was standing at the edge of a big brush pile that had been burned, he didn’t realize that, under the ashes there were still live coals. Only when his shoes were burned through and his feet had begun to smolder did he realize this. His feet never fully recovered from this. I can’t remember for sure, but I think that his feet had to be amputated eventually. No, it is not a good thing to be unable to feel pain.
Pain is like certain people I’ve known. I can think of people over my lifetime who have been very prickly. I sometimes call them “dill pickles with bumps.” (It’s not an original expression, but it’s very expressive, isn’t it?) They were, at least initially, not fun to be around. In fact, sometimes, I called them a pain to be around. And yet, I learned a lot from them. In some cases, I even came to think of them as friends.
Perhaps I could do the same with pain. People who exercise often cite the cliché, “No pain, no gain!” Perhaps this is not a cliché or truism after all. Perhaps, it is simply true.
Now, I’m not saying that we should like pain. Liking the sensation of pain is usually recognized as a psychological aberration called “masochism.” Pain was not designed to be pleasurable, just as a warning siren was not designed to be musical. Welcoming pain doesn’t mean pretending that it isn’t pain. Pain is pain.
There is a Hebrew noun, mûsar, that is often translated “discipline” in English. It is formed off the same root as the verb yäsar. The verb means “to chastise or punish, physically or verbally.”
I don’t like being chastised or punished. However, I do want some discipline in my life. In other words, I want the product without the process. I need to choose.
Welcome, pain! Come in and sit a spell! Can I get you a cup of coffee?
I’ve tried to enter the twenty-first century. I really have. I have learned how to turn on a computer, and even use it a bit. I don’t very often look up words in my print dictionary. (Where is that dusty old thing, anyway?) Instead, I google words. I have a Face Book account, and occasionally look at it, though I’m not really sure how it works. I like to find out about little-known authors, musicians, and philosophers by reading what Wikipedia has to say about them. I even use the computer for research and teaching. So, I am not a total luddite when it comes to the internet.
However, I wonder sometimes about this time in which I live, this “Information Age.” Sometimes I wonder.
I encountered a man the other day, who was making a bunch of really bizarre claims, all of which he had found (I think) on the internet. It sometimes feels to me as if we live in the “Misinformation Age.”
But I have an even deeper misgiving: What if we’re drowning in information, even as we are dying of thirst for wisdom?
What is the difference? Aren’t information and wisdom the same?
I think not! I’ve known people who were cornucopias of information who were about as wise as a bucket of rocks. Who knows: The rocks may even have been wiser than them. By the same token, I’ve known people who were wise, but had very little information.
Wisdom has been defined in many ways. My current working definition is this: Wisdom is the consistent determination to decide what really matters, and to live out consistently what really matters.
I encounter a lot of people these days with lots of information, but very few who are living wisely.
Now, don’t misunderstand. Information can be very helpful. Whether you are cooking a meal or doing brain surgery, information has its place. Whether you are cooking me a meal or operating on my brain, I will be much happier if you know what you are doing.
But even in those areas, mere information isn’t enough. Wise decisions can’t always be made apart from good information, but good information doesn’t necessarily lead to wise decisions. An informed cook or a skillful brain surgeon needs to be wise in deciding whether a rich dessert or tricky brain surgery is really the best way to go.
So, how do we acquire or deepen our wisdom in the information age? I don’t know, but I have some suspicions.
The first order of business is to become dissatisfied with mere information. Questions must be asked. Is this information relevant? How important is it, really? Is this information accurate? How do I know it is accurate? (The current philosophy seems to be that, if I heard it on my favorite network or internet source, it must be true, and everything else is “fake news.)
The second thing I would suggest for anyone seeking wisdom is to slow down. Information moves fast. Wisdom does not. Let information pass you by. Don’t worry! It may well be obsolete soon anyway. In fact, it may have always been obsolete.
Third, take the long view of things. Information shouts, “Now!” Wisdom whispers, “Now.” These are very different “nows.”
DTEB, “LEARNING THE FINE ART OF LEANING”
“LORD, please prop us up on our leaning side.” (Prayer by an anonymous saint)
“I’m Learning to Lean on Jesus.” (Lyrics and title of a song)
“We all need somebody to lean on.” (Bill Withers, “Lean on Me”)
These days, my daily affirmations tend to deal with pain. That is because I am dealing with pain. Here is my affirmation (in bold font), as part of my daily report to my 12-step sponsor:
“Dear ________,
Today, by God’s grace, I am learning to live with and learn from pain. Whenever I need to (all of the time, I suppose!), I will lean on God.”
My sponsor replied with the following:
“God provides support in many ways. Lean on family, friends, and furry friends.”
My reply to my sponsor’s reply turns on an ironic fact. The “ironic fact” was my little dog.
“Dear _______,
Just before I read your e mail, I looked down at my little “furry friend” sleeping in my lap, and thought of how much I love our dog, Laylah.
We all lean. The only questions are:
We spend a lot of time when we’re little learning to stand and walk on our own. That takes more than a year. The rest of our lives is spent learning to lean, and it is one of the most important lessons of life. It is the other important part of the equation. If we only learn to stand and walk on our own, we are only half human.
We like to think that we can make it on our own. We can’t. And if we could, it wouldn’t be good.
Zephaniah is a book that is full of God’s fury and judgment, first and foremost with his own people, Judah. But other nations also come in for some pretty strong words. Apparently, God doesn’t put up with a lot of crap from anybody!
However, toward the end of this very stormy book, the skies clear and bright sunshine breaks through. 3:17 is one of the most beautiful, haunting, and difficult to translate verses in the whole of the Bible. Here is one attempt:
“The LORD your God is in your midst,
A victorious warrior.
He will exult over you with joy,
He will be quiet in His love,
He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy.” (Zephaniah 3:17 New American Standard Bible, 1995)
While there are many intense debates as to precisely how this verse should be translated, there do seem to be certain key components. In a very non-poetic bulleted list, these components might look like this:
In any case, there is both noisy joy and quiet love involved in God’s love for us. I once heard someone say, “You know you’re really in love with someone when you can enjoy being quiet with them.”
Often, we think of God’s silence as being a problem. But what if his silence is another expression of his love? What if God loves us (me, you, the entire human race) so much that he is reduced to silence?
Or, on the other hand, what if we are sometimes so in love with God that we are reduced to silence in his presence? Might that not be a sign of love? Indeed, might silence be a form of love?
The monks at Gethsemani Abbey, a Trappist Monastery near Bardstown, Kentucky, have a sign that says, “SILENCE IS SPOKEN HERE.” Yes! Maybe we need to get over our fear of silence. Maybe silence is one of the languages that divine love speaks.
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