My wife recently accused me of being too introspective. My immediate response was, “You may be right. Let me think about that more deeply.” Of course, I was joking. I was also serious.
Looking into our own mental, spiritual, and emotional internal goings-on can be a good thing. I suspect that most of us are very outwardly focused. Families, jobs, hobbies, Facebook, tv—the list goes on, but I will not. Perhaps a famine of introspection is problem for many people.
However, my wife is right. I am prone to the opposite problem. I fear that I am addicted to introspection. I am tempted to start a new twelve-step group called “I.A.—Introspectors Anonymous”!
You may say, “Well, what’s wrong with self-examination?” The answer is nothing at all. But anything that is excessive becomes a problem. Actually, excess gives birth to manyproblems.
For one thing, my introspection addiction sometimes keeps me from enjoying life. There is always something to find fault with (or at least to be unsure about) when I look within too much. While there is much in me that does need to be changed, excessive self-scrutiny simply sabotages my joy. Is misery really a good way to change for the better? I doubt it.
Then too, if I’m forever looking inward, I will almost certainly miss some upward and outward realities. Upward, there is God to be loved. Outward, there are people to be loved and a planet to be cared for. In fact, caring for the planet is one aspect of loving people. If we don’t care for our world, people suffer.
We all need a certain amount of introspection. Some folks probably need more than others. But if I’m forever examining myself, my thoughts, my feelings, I become a very small person. As someone has said, “A person all wrapped up in himself makes a very small package.”
I met a very human chipmunk yesterday. It was caught in some netting that we had put around our raspberries to protect the fruit against birds—and other little opportunists such as the aforementioned chipmunk.
Sharon noticed the chipmunk. I did not. I was already running late for my softball game and did not feel obliged to be in the rescue business. Sharon didn’t want the rodent to die slowly, but I had a solution: I regret to inform you that I proposed bashing the little critter’s head in and putting him/her out of his/her misery (and ours) quickly.
However, my wife’s tender heart melted my own heart. Being the occasionally dutiful husband that I am, I got out some clippers and began to cut the netting. Of course, the chipmunk thought of me as a predator and started frantically trying to escape. This had a predictable effect: The more the chipmunk squirmed, the more enmeshed he became.
But finally, I cut the netting enough to let the little varmint run away. And what he did he do with his newfound freedom? He ran straight into the netting again. By now, I was committed. I cut the netting—again. Again, he ran into the netting, but this time, he wiggled free and dashed under the wooden privacy fence and into our neighbor’s yard.
I don’t really know God very well, but a persistent rumor has it that God is in the rescue business with humans. We get ourselves into trouble again and again, and can’t get ourselves out. We sell our souls for less important things than raspberries. We squirm and struggle and can’t seem to get free. In fact, we get more and more tangled up.
But there is Jesus, who said, “If the son sets you free, you are really free.” (John 10:10) God notices our fatal predicament and does something radically crazy. He sends his son to get us out of the mess that we had gotten ourselves into.
That is wonderful, good news. However, I need to ask myself what I am to do with my freedom. There’s got to be a better choice than using my freedom to run into the same net again.
How about loving God who freed me, and loving people who are either caught in the net or who have been given their freedom too?
Let’s live free today! Also, let’s be on the lookout for our fellow chipmunks who are caught in a net and see if we can be of service to them.
DTEB, “The Fine Art of Correcting Someone”
“Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted.” ( Galatians 6:1, English Standard Version)
Receiving correction from someone gracefully is never easy. Correcting someone else who needs to grow is never easy either. Giving good correction requires thought, practice, and the right mindset. Correcting someone else is an art. Indeed, it is a fine art.
A friend of mine is a supervisor. His boss wanted him to speak to some of his coworkers about some ways they could improve. My friend asked me if I had any tips. Here is what I wrote:
“When you need to give some difficult feedback to others, four things may help you. At least, they have helped me when I have actually done them.
I think you just helped me write today’s blog post!”
Paul reminded some folks in Galatia (part of what is now the country of Turkey) that they might need to correct someone, but they needed to do so in the right way. The goal is to “restore” or “mend” the person, not to harm them or prove that we are more “spiritual” than the other person is (whatever being “spiritual” might mean).
So, just for today, if you really do need to correct someone, keep these four suggestions in mind. Let me know if they work. Maybe I will use them more often myself.
Our trip to England has been wonderful. We’ve seen so many stunningly beautiful things—ruined castles and abbeys, flowers everywhere. And we’ve enjoyed so much visiting with friends and chatting with random people we’ve met. I plan to enjoy our last few days here as well.
However, I am feeling out of whack. Why? I asked God and myself that very question this morning. The answer was profoundly simple: I am trying to enjoy myself rather than looking for opportunities to serve others. The privilege of serving is where the deepest joy is found.
So, today I am going to be on the lookout for chances to serve others. It doesn’t have to be anything profound. In fact, the simpler and smaller the better.
Also, when all is done and said, serving others enhances all other joys. It doesn’t matter whether you’re in England, or scrubbing your bathroom floor.
“3 1-2 So if you’re serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it. Pursue the things over which Christ presides. Don’t shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you. Look up, and be alert to what is going on around Christ—that’s where the action is. See things from his perspective.
3-4 Your old life is dead. Your new life, which is your real life—even though invisible to spectators—is with Christ in God. He is your life. When Christ (your real life, remember) shows up again on this earth, you’ll show up, too—the real you, the glorious you. Meanwhile, be content with obscurity, like Christ.” (Colossians 3:1-4, The Message)
Love always identifies with whatever or whoever is the beloved. Do you love stuff? Then you identify with stuff? Do you love validation from others? Then that love becomes a part of your identity.
This is especially evident with parents. We identify with our children. It may not be an altogether healthy identification, but there it is. And it is (at least in part) an example of love identifying with what or who is loved.
The Bible—both the Old and New Testaments—indicates many things that are hard to believe. I am not now talking about garden-variety miracles such as feeding multitudes with a few fish and loaves or raising the dead. No, I am talking about a really big miracle: God’s miraculous identification with us in our sinfulness.
There are many things in the Bible that I have a hard time swallowing. One that always chokes me and chokes me up is that God not only loves sinners but also identifies with them. Ancient Israel was a bunch of rebellious sinners, like the rest of the world. Neither Moses nor the prophets were impressed with Israel. God didn’t pretend that the Israelites were a box of chocolates either.
But even though God disciplined his rebellious children severely, God never quite gave up on them. Instead, God identified with them. Isaiah, who points out that Israel is in exile because of their rebellion against God, also speaks repeatedly about God’s identification with Israel. For example,
“In all their affliction he was afflicted,
and the angel of his presence saved them;
in his love and in his pity he redeemed them;
he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.” (Isaiah 63:9, English Standard Version)
God’s identification with the sinners God loves is more than hinted at in the Old Testament. In the New Testament, God’s identification with this whole messed-up species that calls itself homo sapiens (“knowing man”) becomes a laser-like focus in Jesus Christ. He hung around with sinners all the time and was criticized for it. The religious sinners were his most merciless critics. Of course, we always are, aren’t we!
At the cross, Identifying Love showed itself as Redeeming Love. The One who had hung out with sinners was now hung out to dry—or rather, hung out to die.
And die he did. But there is a persistent rumor that he did not stay dead for long. Yes, I know that is hard to believe, isn’t it? But there are many of us who do believe it. On my better days, I do too. On my worse days, I don’t believe much of anything. Sorry, but that is true.
And, according to the Apostle Paul, when Jesus came out of the tomb we came out with Jesus. Identifying Love had so identified with us that we have already died, been buried, and been raised from the dead. It is not first and foremost about us identifying with Jesus. No, it is first and foremost about God’s identification with us in Christ.
So what do I do in the light of God’s identification with me and with the whole human race? There are many responses to such loving identification. One is simple gratitude. God, thank you, thank you, thank you, for identifying with me. Another response is to keep pursuing Christ. The verb in Colossians 3:1 that speaks of “seeking” or “pursuing” Christ is in the present tense. In the Greek language of New Testament times, the present tense suggests an ongoing, repetitive, life-style choice. We don’t “have” Christ in the way that we “have” objects that we can put in some drawer and dig out (if we can find him) when we need him. Christ is to be sought on an everyday and every-moment basis.
And there are the choices we make every day. Paul talks about those choices in the rest of the book of Colossians: such choices as telling the truth, being sexually pure, and forgiving others. A friend of mine pointed out that, on average, every person makes 35,000 choices every day.
The first choice of this and every day should be to dare to believe in the identifying love of God. That same daring choice should infuse the other 34,999 choices with meaning.
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