“Beginning the Year with God: God’s Nearness or Resignation?”
I had a look at one of my favorite commentators on the book of Proverbs, Christine Roy Yoder, who wrote the following helpful comments:
Whereas mortals have the capacity and responsibility to plan their “way” . . . , God is proximate—God approves or redirects each step (the conjunction may be translated as “and” or “but). The proverb may be interpreted as a comforting reminder of God’s nearness and sovereignty, a matter-of-fact acknowledgement of human limitations, or, more cynically, as a sigh of resignation (cf. 20:24; Jer 10:23).[1]
So, how am I going to take this verse as a guide to the new year? A sigh of resignation may be appropriate at times, but I think it would be better for me to take this proverb as a reminder of God’s nearness and sovereignty and as an acknowledgement of my limitations.
If I acknowledge my limitations, that will help me not to have to be so perfect all the time. Frankly, my progress is impeded much more by my desire for perfection, than by my obvious imperfections. It has been said that “the good is the enemy of the best.” Yes, I suppose that is true. However, for me at least, there is another, even more important truth: The perfect that I can’t achieve is the enemy of the good that I can achieve. If I accept my limitations, that does not take away my drive to be better. Quite the contrary! It is accepting my limitations that empowers me to do well.
And, of course, being reminded of God’s nearness and sovereignty helps to counter my tendency to worry and want to control. There is an old story that goes something like this: “Good morning! This is God. I will not need your help today. So relax and have a nice day!”
Might work! And what
works for one day probably would work for the entire year of 2020 as well.
[1] Christine Roy Yoder, Proverbs, Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries (Nashville: Abingdon, 2009), 184.
“Come and Find Me, LORD!”
“I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek your servant,
for I do not forget your commandments.”
(Psalm 119:176 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version)
As noted in yesterday’s post, Psalm 119 is filled with love and longing for God’s Word, for God’s commandments, for God’s Law. The psalmist repeatedly expresses great delight in God’s way as expressed in God’s Word.
The ending of the psalm is, thus, somewhat jarring. “Come and find me, LORD. I, your servant, have gone astray.
What! After all this longing, delight, and love, the psalmist has gone astray?!?
Well, yes, that is the way it is, isn’t it? No matter how much we delight in God, we are all prone to go astray. The end is indeed jarring, but it is also real. We are weak, inconstant creatures. I have known a few Christians who had been amazingly consistent—until I got better acquainted with them. Then I discovered that they too were prone to wander.
There is an old hymn that says, “Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.” Yep, that’s the way we are.
But the psalmist wants to be found. He is still God’s servant, even though he has gone astray like a lost sheep. He has not forgotten God’s commandments. He just can’t figure how on earth to keep them.
On the last day of the year, perhaps we all feel somewhat like the psalmist. “2019 started out with such promise! How can I feel so far from God at the end of it?”
Fear not! As Tolkien said, “Not all who wander are lost.”
And furthermore, the birth and life and death of resurrection of Jesus Christ is an expression of just how far God will go in his seeking of us. Cry out with the psalmist, “Come and find me, LORD!” You don’t have to cry very loud. God has already heard your whimpering and wimpy heart.
“Of Pecan Banana Pancakes and the Longing to Obey God’s Commandments”
I like to see connections between things that may not seem to be connected. For example, take my study and meditation on Psalm 119, and connect it with my sweetheart teaching me to cook pecan banana pancakes.
I was thinking about the longing, the intense desire to obey God’s commandments, as reflected in Psalm 119. Psalm 119 is very long. In fact, it is the longest chapter in the Bible, at least in terms of verses. Many folks think of it as very long and very repetitious. I used to regard it that way in the past.
I have changed my mind. Long? Yes. Boring? Most definitely not!
Psalm 119 certainly uses the same format throughout. It is an acrostic. Each section of eight verses starts with a different letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Since there are 22 letters in the Hebrew language, the psalm contains 176 verses. (8 x 22=176.)
Furthermore, the psalm uses many of the same words throughout. However, it combines them in somewhat different manners from section to section.
But the thing that makes me love Psalm 119 the most, is the sheer longing, joy, and delight that the psalmist expresses. And this longing, joy, delight—and yes, even love—are directed toward God’s Law, God’s commands, God’s judgments.
Now, I don’t generally love commands. I may obey them (sometimes). I may even see that they have a point (occasionally). But loving, delighting and rejoicing in them, loving them? No, I don’t think so!
And yet, the psalmist did long, delight in, rejoice in, and love them.
Hummm . . .
So, while I was meditating on this, my wife called me down for breakfast. She is teaching me to cook healthy, nutritious, and (hopefully) tasty things. This morning, we were working on pecan banana pancakes. She had already prepared the ingredients when I came down. Fortunately, she stayed with me, giving me counsel about how to put the lid on the blender properly. (This prevented my having to spend half-an-hour cleaning pancake batter off the kitchen ceiling.)
She also flagged me down when I was about to dump the baking powder in with the moist ingredients before I had mixed them up properly. This kept parts of the pancakes from being flat as a . . . well, . . . as flat as a pancake, and other parts of the pancakes looking like they might have a thyroid problem.
In short, my wife gave me guidance and commands when needed, and encouragement whenever possible.
And the pancakes turned out quite nicely. In fact, they were very tasty! This was due, in large part to my wife’s commands.
Perhaps the psalmist of Psalm 119 realized that the divine chef was in the kitchen with him, giving him commands to help his life to turn out well. Perhaps God’s commands help life to turn out better and tastier than it would if we ignored God’s commands. Maybe I (maybe we) could come to love God’s commands if I (we) realized that God’s commands really are for our own good. Maybe we can’t really achieve good outcomes without a good, godly process.
And maybe, someday, we will come to long for, delight and rejoice in, and love the process. Maybe that is what Heaven is.
“Pride, Perfectionism, and Addiction”
I’ve struggled with perfectionism all my life. And I’ve always known that I am far from perfect. So, because of my (perceived) honesty, I’ve always thought that I at least had a shot at the little known (and less esteemed) virtue that goes by the name “humility.”
Of course, thinking that you are perfect is pride. But it struck me this morning—in a blinding flash of the obvious—that even wanting to be perfect is pride. And pride, according to the Bible, is not simply recognizing that we have accomplished something good. Pride is pretending that our good is a whole lot better than it is. As such, pride is evil. So wanting to be perfect is not a workable idea.
Furthermore, at least in my case, want-to-be perfection is one component of my addictive personality. Desiring a perfection that can never be, creates tremendous soul dissonance. I cannot tolerate that for long, so I create an escape hatch for my perfectionism. What would feel good to me? What would kill the pain, or at least deaden it?
Voila! Addiction! An escape from reality that proves to be even worse than the reality itself.
What is the antidote to this unholy trinity of perfectionism, pride, and addiction? Perhaps facing the reality of my never-going-to-be-enough-ness might help. At least, I’m never going to be enough if “enough” means being perfect.
I was listening to Psalm 119 on the You Version app this morning. The psalmist praises God and his Torah for 175 verses. There are words of mourning, too, and words that encourage himself and his hearers to follow God’s instruction.
But then comes the last verse, verse 176:
“I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek your servant,
for I do not forget your commandments.”
(Psalm 119:176 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version, https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Psa._119:176.)
Sometimes, that is the best I can do. I’ve wandered away. Come and seek me! I haven’t entirely forgotten your commandments.
“For Each, Every, and All”
10 And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. 11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:10–11 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version
https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Ex._12:16)
In verse 10, the angel says to the shepherds—and to us—that Jesus, the Christ child, is given to all the people. But in verse 11, the angel gets a little more personal, and says that Jesus is born “to/for you”.
I like the universal aspect of Jesus’ birth. It’s good to know that Jesus is good news for all the people. But even more, I love the personal touch: “for you”. Yes! Jesus is very generic. He is also very special to each of us in unique ways. Both aspects of the Savior are incredibly precious.
Merry Christmas!
“THE BLAME GAME OR THE CHANGE GAME?”
Tired of playing the blame game? Me too! Here is part of one of my 12-step readings for today:
“We do not continue to berate ourselves for having this illness, or consider ourselves physically, morally, or spiritually inferior for having contracted it. Blaming ourselves is as useless as blaming someone else. We accept the fact that through no one’s fault we have the disease of compulsive overeating. Then we get on with the business of learning to control this illness with the help of our Higher Power and the OA program.
I blame no one for my illness.” (From Food for Thought: Daily Meditations for Overeaters by Elisabeth L. ©1980, 1992 by Hazelden Foundation.)
We now live in an internet world in which we can name, and blame and shame to our heart’s content—or perhaps to our heart’s discontent. As an antidote to our previous tendency in spiritual housekeeping (which was the tendency to sweep serious dirt under the rug), this tendency may be both helpful and appropriate.
However, as a long-term solution, naming and blaming and shaming have a serious problem. They do not work. And a solution that doesn’t work is not really a solution, is it?
Naming, blaming, and shaming other people keeps us focused on people we don’t even like. Even worse, it is overwhelmingly likely that we will become like those people that we don’t like. We may even become as hateful as the people we hate.
And naming ourselves with hateful names, and blaming, and shaming ourselves has the same result.
Naming, blaming, and shaming is an easy game to play, but it doesn’t change me. So, it is a game that is set up so that everyone loses.
Instead of the unholy trinity of naming, shaming, and blaming, how about playing a different game entirely? What about playing a much harder game called “the Change Game”? It is a much harder game to play. But it also a lot more fun in the long run.
“None of Your Business! Loving the Unfinished Parts of Me”
My oldest brother had a saying for everything. If someone asked a question that was too personal, my brother would say, “That comes under “Nunya.”
Usually, the prying questioner would ask, “What’s ‘Nunya’?”
My brother would reply, “Nunya business!” (He usually added one or more spicy adjectives, but you get the picture.)
Today, in one of my twelve-step readings, I was encouraged to love the unfinished parts of me. I don’t do that well, so it was a good reminder.
However, since I don’t like dealing with what I need to do in the present moment, I decided to ask a theoretical question: “Even in eternity, in Heaven, will I still be unfinished?”
And immediately, from somewhere outside of me (or someone outside of me?) came the non-answer to my unwise question. “That is none of your business! Get busy loving your unfinished parts right now!”
Loving the unfinished parts of me doesn’t mean that I don’t keep letting God work on them. It doesn’t mean that I don’t work on them myself. Quite the contrary! It is precisely when I am loving the parts of me that aren’t all together that I am able to work and allow God to work in my life.
Loving the unfinished bits of me—and they are often not bits of me, but large swaths of me—is another way of speaking of loving the process. Years ago, a very dear friend who is a good golfer observed me make a horrible swing, but get a lucky bounce with a good result. He said something to the effect that it was a good shot, provided that I was more interested in product than in process. That was a fair and helpful comment in golf and in life.
So, what are your unfinished parts? Do you love them?
God does, so don’t ask questions that come under the heading of “Nunya!” Get busy loving!
“The Hardest Someone to Forgive”
Here is part of a 12-step reading from Hazelden Publishing:
“Forgiveness should be an ongoing process. Attention to it
daily will ease our relationships with others and encourage greater self-love.
First on our list for forgiveness should be ourselves. Daily, we heap
recriminations upon ourselves. And our lack of self-love hinders our ability to
love others, which in turn affects our treatment of them. We’ve come full
circle – and forgiveness is in order. It can free us. It will change our
perceptions of life’s events, and it promises greater happiness.
The forgiving heart is magical. My whole life will undergo a dynamic change
when I develop a forgiving heart.” (From Each Day a New Beginning: Daily Meditations for
Women by Karen Casey © 1982, 1991 by Hazelden Foundation.)
I was especially struck by the words, “First on our list for forgiveness should be ourselves. Daily, we heap recriminations upon ourselves. And our lack of self-love hinders our ability to love others, which in turn affects our treatment of them.”
I struggle with forgiving the man that I was. I did so many stupid, harmful things to myself and many others. The fallout from those decisions haunts me and others to this very day. I will go to my grave grieving over these things.
Or will I? Grieving is good, if it leads to real repentance and a better, kinder way of living. But grief is not good, in and of itself. I am not the man I used to be, no matter what I or anyone else thinks about the matter.
But I still struggle with self-forgiveness. Partly, this may be caused by the fact that I don’t see self-forgiveness taught in the Bible. Yes, God forgives. Sometimes, other people forgive. I am to forgive others. Yes, yes, and yes. But where in the Bible does it say anything about self-forgiveness?
The problem with asking hard questions is that sometimes you get even harder answers. This was the case when I asked the question about biblical self-forgiveness.
A verse came to mind. “Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you (Colossians 3:13 | NIV).
I suspect that I am a someone. I suspect that we are all someones.
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