“As in water face reflects face,
so the heart of man reflects the man.”
(Proverbs 27:19 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version)
Proverbs, whether those in the Bible or those in use in our culture, are often terse and ambiguous. The terseness is so that we can remember them. The ambiguity is so that we won’t think that we know them better than we do, or take them for granted.
Take Proverbs 27:19 for example. There are various translations that go in different directions. Some suggest that, like a mirror, the heart reflects a person’s life. Other translations suggest that the life of a person reflects that person’s heart.
I looked at the Hebrew in which this proverb was written. It could go either way. So, which way do we take it?
I subscribe to the Yogi Berra school of linguistics. If you come to a fork in the road, take it. In other words, if something in God’s Word is ambiguous, perhaps that is intentional.
So, does our heart reflect our life, or does our life reflect our heart?
My short answer is “Yes!” Heart and life are a cycle, whether that cycle is vicious, virtuous, or (as with most of us) vacillating. A good life reflects good heart, and a good heart reflects a good life.
But it’s not just about reflection. It is about formation. When I look at myself in the mirror, it is not simply for information. I want to see if I need to shave, or if I’ve gotten all the shaving cream off my face and head. I want to see whether my tie is straight. I want to not just see what I look like. I want to do whatever I can to look better. (And you thought it was just women who did this sort of thing? You’d better think again!)
So, if I want to have as good a reflection as possible, I need to ask myself two questions.
The first question is “How is my heart?’ Proverbs says that we need to guard our hearts diligently (4:23). Why? Because “issues of life” (King James Version) come out of the heart. The New International Version says it this way:
“Above all else, guard your heart,
for everything you do flows from it.”
“The heart” in Hebrew does not refer just to emotions or love. Instead, the root lebab “. . . became the richest biblical term for the totality of man’s inner or immaterial nature” (Andrew Bowling, Theological Word Wordbook of the Old Testament, en loc). The Hebrew root lebab has to do with our thoughts and our will, as much (or more) than it has to do with our emotions. While our thoughts and will are immaterial, they are the very material of which our lives are made. In other words, while our will and thoughts are immaterial in one sense, they are most definitely not immaterial in the other sense.
Merely looking good on the outside—or even doing what is good externally—is enough. The question that must be asked, and answered as honestly as possible, is “How is my heart?”
But the second question is equally important. “How is my life?” What we do with our lives affects our hearts. And here, I am not talking about smoking or drinking or high cholesterol, which affect our physical hearts. I am talking about whatever we do in our external lives that affects our will and our thinking, as well as our emotions.
A simple illustration may help. If I eat a bunch of sweets, I am much more prone to lustful thoughts. Sorry to be so frank, but there it is. What good can my blog possibly be to anyone if I don’t speak the truth? Not someone else’s truth, but my own.
So, look at yourself in two mirrors: the mirror of your heart and the mirror of your life. Do you like what you see? If not, pray to God for a change of heart and a change of life. You do not have to do this alone. ln fact, if you’re like me, you will never be able to do it on your own.
My nephew and niece are visiting us for a couple of days. They are raising two little ones (three years and fifteen months), with another on the way. Three-year-old Jared and fifteen-month-old Jael had a head-on collision today. Predictably, Jael got the worst of the deal.
My nephew (who is a fine, loving father) is concerned that Jared needs to learn to show concern when the little guy hurts someone. “He just wants to give his sister a kiss, and say he’s sorry—and then, he’s back to whatever he is doing. I’m trying to teach him to show concern.”
I think that’s something we all need to learn. At age sixty-eight, I am still trying to learn how to do that.
It’s tempting to ask, “How can you teach someone to show concern? Don’t you have to feel it first?”
No, I think my nephew is right. I suspect that we can learn to show concern. If I wait around to feel concerned, I may be waiting for a feeling that never comes. But if I show concern for someone who is hurt (and especially for someone I myself have hurt), the feelings may come.
This explains why kindness can be (and is) commanded in the Bible. ““Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”
(Ephesians 4:32 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version)
https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Eph._4:32
Notice that the Bible does not say, “Feel kind.” Rather, it says, “Be kind.” I’m not sure if being kind is the same thing as showing concern. But, in any case, I think that they are close relatives.
Who can you show concern for today? Maybe you could even begin with showing concern for your own better self. Or, at least, you might try showing some concern for your not-so-better self. Hey! You have to begin somewhere.
“The LORD God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it.” (English Standard Version)
Commenting on Genesis 2:15, the daily meditation from Loyola Press, today’s “3-Minute Retreat” master wrote the following:
“When we look at the wonder of creation, it is apparent that God is a good gardener. From the will of God, the earth brings forth abundant and varied forms of life. In this story from Genesis, we are invited into the garden and given the task of caring for it. Taking care of creation is a moral obligation for us. Our care for plants, animals, and one another reflects our cooperation with God’s plan.” (From https://www.loyolapress.com/retreats/caring-for-gods-garden-start-retreat, accessed 05-24-2019)
Now, I should know everything there is to know about Genesis 2-3. After all, I spent ten years of my life studying this passage from the Bible, while pursuing a graduate degree. However, even simple insights can blindside me.
Based on this 3-minute retreat, it suddenly occurred to me that, even though the man and woman messed up big time and ate of the one tree that God had put off-limits to them, and even though they were punished and driven out of the garden, the charge to tend the garden was never rescinded. In other words, humankind is no longer in the Garden of Eden, but that doesn’t mean that we are not responsible for tilling the soil outside the garden. In fact, that very phrase (“to till the soil”) occurs after God had confronted the man and woman and passed judgment on them. The story says, “therefore the LORD God sent him out from the garden of Eden to work the ground from which he was taken.” (Genesis 3:23, English Standard Version)
I grew up on a two-hundred acre farm, and we had a huge garden. Every year, my mom and dad would do the same dance in September. “We don’t need such a big garden!” And they didn’t. They had green beans canned from years before the current crop, still unused.
But over the winter, their memory faded along with the fading leaves. Every spring, Dad would say to Mom, “How much of the garden do you want me to till up?” And Mom would reply, “Oh, I guess you can plow up the whole thing. We don’t have to plant it all.” After a few years of this same pattern, I realized that I was going to be hoeing just as much this summer as I had hoed last summer.
But. you know what I think? I think that Mom and Dad realized that they were doing what God wanted them to do. They were participating in something very primal, but also something very theological. They were helping in God’s garden.
And I got to help too!
Go out and plant or tend something today! Maybe it’s a garden, or a flower, or a relationship. But go out and plant something or tend something today!
Love “. . . is not irritable orresentful;” (1 Corinthians 13:5, English Standard Version)
I am on a quest for a resentment-free life. So, since the Bible has a frustrating amount of information concerning human tendencies toward self-destruction and other forms of stupidity, I decided to do a word search.
Interestingly, as far as I can tell, the words “resent” and “resentment” don’t occur anywhere in the English Standard Version. And the word “resentful” occurs only once, in the verse that leads off this post. However, this verse is in an interesting context, and the Greek word that is translated “resentful” is quite illuminating.
As to context, this word occurs in what is undoubtedly the most famous chapter in all Paul’s letters, Paul’s so-called “Love Chapter.” This chapter is read at many weddings, but (unfortunately) ignored in many marriages. 1 Corinthians 13 speaks of how vital love is to the Christian life, particularly in the context of the exercise of spiritual gifts in the church (1 Corinthians 12-14). No doubt, the chapter has a wider application, so it is good to read it at weddings and anywhere else. Even better than reading it is living it out.
After speaking of how essential love is, Paul speaks of what love does and doesn’t do. Paul finishes his chapter on love with the fact that the only three things that last are faith, hope, and love. Though Paul lists love last, he states that love is the greatest of the three.
So much for context. Now for the word that is translated “resentful” in verse 5. The Greek word is logizomai. This word is an ancient accounting word. It speaks of “keeping a record.”
So, one of the things that love does not do is keeping records.
Now, let me be frank here. I’m not good at keeping records, at least not on most things. The other day, someone asked me how many weddings I had performed over my twenty-nine years as a pastor. I had no idea how many I had done. (This lack of good book-keeping skills is why my wife is our chief financial officer.)
However, there is one area in which I am a really good accountant—keeping a record of those who have wronged me. Some of my entries are in bold print with an asterisk beside them. I even keep records on the times I’ve sabotaged myself. As if it isn’t enough to resent other people, I have to keep resentment records on myself! (My record keeping for times when I’ve wronged others is also good, but not as meticulous as my accounting in the other direction.)
I can still remember classmates from my grade school who did me wrong. Teachers, too. Employers, church people—the list goes on and on.
And, of course, there is my wife. I keep really good records on her. Admittedly, she doesn’t always remember things precisely the way I do, which means she is wrong. My records are impeccable.
Right.
Perhaps it’s time to retire from the accounting business. Perhaps I should never have become an accountant in the first place.
In preparation for a class I’m teaching this fall, I am reading an excellent book titled New Testament Christianity in the Roman World.[1] In his introduction, the first subsection is titled, “Making the Familiar Strange.” Maier explains at the end of this subsection (p. 4), “In short, this book aims to make the familiar strange by locating the New Testament and its audiences in a variety of overlapping but distinct ancient contexts. In doing so, it seeks to describe the dynamic and complex social contexts in which earliest Christianity developed and was practiced.”
Making the familiar strange! Why on earth would you want to do such a thing as an author, or subject yourself to such a thing as a reader? I like familiar. I like to drink out of the same coffee cup and sit in the same place at church. Probably, we all have these nice, cozy, familiar habits. We have habits of thought, just as we have habits in our actions. And we don’t like those habits to be disturbed.
Now, of course the familiar can be a good thing. There is no automatic virtue in novelty. The reason things sometimes become habits is because they are right and healthy.
On the other hand, not all familiar habits and ways of thinking are healthy. For every one healthy physical habit I have, I can think of two or more that are not healthy. What makes me think that my mind is exempt from such an unhealthy two-to-one ratio?
There is an old saying that you may have used yourself: “Familiarity breeds contempt.” Familiarity breeds lots of other unsavory things as well. Familiarity often breeds the illusion that we understand things that we really do not. I frequently find that my familiar, comfortable understandings are, in fact, misunderstandings.
Perhaps we all need to defamiliarize ourselves with what
we think is familiar. Perhaps even the
most familiar things and people harbor more mystery than we could ever
imagine. Perhaps learning, whether it is
formal or informal, is another name for making the familiar strange. Perhaps the familiar was strange all along.
[1] Harry O. Maier, New Testament Christianity in the Roman World, Essentials of Biblical Studies (New York: Oxford University Press, 2019).
I was out taking a walk this afternoon. A young lady was out in her yard with her two daughters, probably about seven years old and four or so. The older girl was pointing out something above her and saying how beautiful it was. I thought at first that she was pointing at a tree in their yard. I didn’t see anything especially beautiful about the tree, but I was happy that the girls did. Made me look at the tree more appreciatively.
However, then I realized that the girls were enjoying the beauty of something beyond the tree, apparently a bird. I turned to see . . . a turkey buzzard! Actually, there were several of them.
“They are so beautiful!” exclaimed the older girl.
At my age, you assume that the buzzards might be looking for you. My foot was hurting, and I was moving pretty slowly. However, I thought of that famous line from a Monty Python movie, “I’m not dead yet!”
So, buzzards are beautiful?
Well, as a matter of fact they are. And not only are they beautiful; they are also useful. I heard someone say one time that if it were not for buzzards and other scavengers, the world would be overrun with disease within a generation or so.
And besides, the Scripture is unequivocal. When God looked at everything he had made, it was very good (Genesis 1:31). Apparently, God did not say, “Everything is good—except for buzzards.”
But you don’t have to be God or little girls to see everything as good. Eyesight can be trained. We can choose to see beauty.
I think I’ll make that choice in this moment.
You?
I grew up on a farm. It could get pretty wet and muddy in places, especially in the spring time. I vaguely remember (when I was a little guy) getting stuck in the mud. (I can still sometimes be a stick in the mud, but that is another story for another post.)
I tried to get out of my dilemma on my own. I wiggled and pulled. But it seemed as if the harder I struggled, the further I sank. Finally, my mom came to the rescue. She had told me not to walk “over there.” Of course, at age three or four, I already knew better than my mom. I had decided to find out what was wrong with “over there.” I found out.
Today, I read a twelve-step meditation that was about getting out of the mud—and then some! It makes use of Psalm 40:2-3.
The meditation used the King James Version.
“He brought me up out of a horrible pit, out
of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock and established my goings.” The
first part, “He brought me up out of a horrible pit,” means that by turning to
God and putting my problems in His hands, I am able to overcome my sins and
temptations. “He set my feet upon a rock” means that when I trust God in all
things, I have true security. “He established my goings” means that if I
honestly try to live the way God wants me to live, I will have God’s guidance
in my daily living.
Prayer for the Day
I pray that my feet may be set upon a rock. I pray that I may rely on God to
guide my comings and goings.”
From Twenty-Four Hours a Day © 1975 by Hazelden Foundation.”
Good stuff! In a sense, we expect too little of God. God wants to rescue us from the mud in which we are stuck. Yes, he does! But God wants to do so much more. God wants to set our feet on solid ground. Then he wants us to walk.
And, of course, God wants us to stay out of the mud. My mom was pretty merciful to me for disobeying her. If I had gone right back to the mud, judgment would have fallen upon my little posterior very rapidly.
Let a Power Greater than Myself get me out of the mud: Ready!
Let that Power place me on firm ground: Set!
Walk: Go!
Psa. 81:10 I am the LORD your God,
who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.
Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it.
Psa. 81:11 “But my people did not listen to my voice;
Israel would not submit to me.
12 So I gave them over to their stubborn hearts,
to follow their own counsels.
13 Oh, that my people would listen to me,
that Israel would walk in my ways!
14 I would soon subdue their enemies
and turn my hand against their foes.
15 Those who hate the LORD would cringe toward him,
and their fate would last forever.
16 But he would feed you with the finest of the wheat,
and with honey from the rock I would satisfy you.” (Psalm 81:10-16, English Standard Version)
“If only” are among the saddest words in the English language, really in any language. The Hebrew equivalent to “if only” (lû)occurs at the beginning of verse 13.
We tend to think that the if-onlies are only a human reality, and that it is especially found among older folks who regret choices they’ve made. But here, in this psalm, it is God who says, “If only.” God is regretting, not what God has done, but what God’s people have done—and what they have refused to do. Apparently, Israel wasn’t the most obedient bunch of people on the planet. In other words, they were exactly like everyone else on the planet. They disobeyed the God who had rescued them from slavery in Egypt. They would not submit to this God.
So, what did God do? It may have seemed as if he did nothing. But in fact God punished in the most devastating way possible: God gave his people over to the counsel of their own stubborn hearts (verse 12).
Some people will counsel others to “follow their own hearts.” There are times when that is appropriate. Unfortunately, it isn’t a slam dunk. It depends on which heart a person is following.
You see, we have several hearts. One of them is our stubborn heart. I have discovered that when I follow this heart, I’m already in serious trouble and headed for more.
Meanwhile, God was left with his if-onlies. He was left with his longings to subdue Israel’s enemies, and feed Israel with the finest food.
I believe that God longs to do good for all of us. It is a sadly unnecessary thing to leave God with only his “If onlies!”
“A man who is kind benefits himself,
but a cruel man hurts himself.” (Proverbs 11:17, English Standard Version)
Being kind to yourself! Did you know that was in the Bible? It is! Proverbs 11:17 is saying that, ultimately, kindness is self-rewarding and cruelty is self-punishing.
Commenting on Proverbs 11:17, Matthew Henry writes, “It is a common principle, Every one for himself. Proximus egomet mihi—None so near to me as myself. Now, if this be rightly understood, it will be a reason for the cherishing of gracious dispositions in ourselves and the crucifying of corrupt ones. We are friends or enemies to ourselves, even in respect of present comfort, according as we are or are not governed by religious principles.”
My 12-step affirmation for today is as follows: “Today, by God’s grace, I am consistently kind to myself. That way, I am also being kind to other people and our little dog.” I will work on that!
Kindness to others helps me to be kinder to myself. The converse is also true. If I am truly kind to myself, I will find it much easier to be kind to my other selves.
Of course, in the preceding sentence the expression “truly kind” is tricky. Perhaps the word “truly” is as important as the word “kind.” There is a “kindness” that really isn’t kind. Selfishness is not kindness to myself. I have yet to meet a selfish person who is truly happy. That’s because selfishness is not truly kind.
There’s a song by the Eagles that makes a wonderful statement about kindness to oneself. The lyrics of “The Long Run” (by Don Henley and Glenn Frey) go, in part, like this:
“You know I don’t understand
why you don’t treat yourself better
Do the crazy things that you do . . . .”
Two good questions to ask us on a regular basis are as follows: Am I
treating myself with kindness? Am I
treating others with kindness?
“But all Israel and Judah loved David, for he went out and came in before them.” (1 Samuel 18:16, English Standard Version)
My Hebrew students and I were reading a couple of verses in 1 Samuel, when one of them asked, “Why does it speak of Israel and Judah in 18:16? I thought it was just Israel.”
That is an excellent question! But it isn’t a simple one. The truth seems to be this: The people of Israel were never really “one nation under God” or under anyone else. The North (often called “Israel”) was bigger, generally flatter and richer. The South (often called “Judah”) was smaller, hillier and poorer. And there was frequently tension between them. Sometimes, after they became two separate nations, they would cooperate with each other. More often, they were at war with one another.
I gave a brief course in geography and ancient Israelite history. But then, I made a more sweeping statement, after one of my students commented that it sounded like families. “Yes,” I responded, “families, states, communities, nations, the world, capitalists, communists. The truth is that we are all engaged in various wars.”
And then, I added what I think is profoundly true. “Of course, all these wars are simply the spill-over from the walking civil wars that each of us is. We all have the voices in our heads that tell us mutually exclusive things. Because we are at war with our selves, we are at war with everyone else and everything else.”
However, there is another truth. My own personal civil war is winding down. I am happier in my own skin these days. I don’t hear the destructive voices in my head nearly as loud or as often. I am more acquainted with peace than I am with strife these days. Not only are peace and I getting acquainted. We are becoming intimate friends.
I’d like to take some personal credit for this. Indeed, maybe I should. I have worked hard. Counseling, 12-step groups, checking in with my sponsor, actually thinking about my words and actions—sometimes. Yes, I have worked hard to bring my civil war to a peaceful resolution.
But I owe so much to others as well. I owe my counselors, my 12-step friends, my sweet, forgiving wife (who also calls on things when she needs to do so), my students, my church and community group. A lot of friends, both believers and not-yet-believers, have helped to broker the peace.
Yes, the civil war is winding down. Not because one side won, but because all sides are one.
And, above all and beneath all, there is the One God, of whom it is said,
“He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the chariots with fire.
‘Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!’ ” (Psalm 46:9-10, English Standard Version)
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