Settling

Just this weekend, I had the opportunity to attend the men’s event called, “The Trail,” at our church. It’s a gathering of men to look into Scripture, and spend a small amount of time together discussing it. One of the key points of our speaker came out of Romans where Paul challenges the Roman Christians with the words, “And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.” Often speakers will draw our attention to the part of this quote that says, “by the renewing of your mind.” Which is indeed important and critical to the journey of following Christ. This is one of those places that I have spent most of my career helping people do — figuring out how to “renew their mind.” Yet, the process of renewing rests on what comes before that phrase. As a matter of fact, the phrase that comes before is actually a continuation of Paul’s point with which he began the chapter. This phrase begins with the word, “therefore,” which indicates that it is the logical next step given what Paul was talking about in the previous chapter. Now, before I get off the trail in an over-lengthy exposition of Scripture, allow me to focus on two words that Paul uses, and suggest an intermediate stop that in spite of the fact that he doesn’t mention it.

The two words I speak of above are the words, “conformed” and “transformed.” Of course, there is a commonality between these two words — “formed.” The difference between the two can be found in the prefixes “con-“ and “trans-.” Let’s take the first. Being conformed to the world around us is simply a matter of nonresistance. In other words, being conformed takes nothing of the person conforming. I simply have to comply with what is around me. In other words, it is a chameleon-like strategy to conform to the world. I take the same character and form of whatever I’m surrounded. Brennan Manning in his book, “Posers, Fakers, and Wannabes” refers to a guy by the name of “Zelig.” I often use this as a great example of being conformed. Brennan describes him as, “Zelig is master of a thousand disguises. He blends in a cluster of Chinese nationals. Encountering Jewish rabbis, he spontaneously sprouts a beard and side curls. Thrown in with psychiatrists, he opens his mouth and out comes a stream of psychobabble. He’s a priest when he tours the Vatican, a black man when he visits a jazz club, then Mohawk at a gathering of tribal chiefs.” Now, we may look at that description and say, “yeah but I don’t go to those extremes. That’s ridiculous.” It might be ridiculous, but it is instructive. Adult, sophisticated “society” is every bit as middle school society as middle school is. We live in fear of other’s opinions and conclusions, and spend more of our time than we would like to admit shaping, manipulating, and massaging other’s perception of us. By doing so, we become like Zelig in the ordinary. This kind of fear and resulting forms of control does nothing more than speed along our conforming to the world around us. Interestingly, we might make a move into the Christian culture found in churches today, and find the exact same dynamics among the people there. Most assuredly it’s closer to the gospel because of what we talk about, but it just as far away from the ultimate goal of what Paul calls “transformation.”

Which leads me to the intermediate step that I believe we insert into the journey of becoming transformed. This intermediate step is a powerful temptation to all of us, and a compelling stage in which to get stuck. It allows me to maintain my semblance of control that was part of the conformation stage, and give all the appearances of change. Is it better than the previous place I in which I started? Of course! It is closer to the desired goal in the sense that I am at least moving closer to edge of the transformation “cliff.” This intermediate stage is what I refer to as “reformed,” or “reformation.” Being reformed is a step beyond being conformed. I am exerting a lot more effort to change around what already exists in my life, and may even be getting rid of the stuff that shouldn’t be there. It’s fascinating to me that in spite of all the effort, I find that I’m actually emulating the Pharisees of Jesus’ time. Their system of rules and regulations were all designed to not only create an appearance of change and “holiness,” but also to manipulate and control God. It was their grand contract with God that read… “If I do … then you will ….” The key to understand here is that reformation is still within their grasp of control and management. It’s a bloodless “revolution” in their own hearts without any chaos, without any disorder, without… God. Paul makes an incredible quantum leap from conformation to transformation. It is me who has found the intermediate “country” in which to dwell where I fool myself into thinking that the kind of “revolution” I say I want has been found without all the resident difficulties, bloodiness, or even change … just as Billy Crystal once quipped in his famous comedic skit lampooning Fernando Lamas… “you look marvelous!!!”

So, if I don’t want to reside in the land of reformation, what’s my alternative? As I talk these concepts through with my students, the question always gets raised, “Yeah, but how do we get to the transformation Paul is referring to here?” The short answer is, “you don’t.” There is little change without risk, and there is no transformation without trust. Trust and risk belong together. Trust’s inherent nature is filled with risk. So, how do I pursue the transformation that Paul is speaking of? Let me set the stage first with being clear about what transformation is. The original language used here that is translated as transformation is “metamorphosis.” Even if you have bad memories of biology or other physical sciences, you may still have a faint memory of the caterpillar. It is a vivid picture of metamorphosis; from a worm crawling on the ground to a flying insect. Now, that is transformation! How does that translate into our journey? It revolves around the risk to which I was referring above. If we are going to participate in this transformation it hinges on what we do with the risk involved in being known (both to others and myself), and knowing others. Transformation occurs in a context just as conformation occurs in a societal context (“don’t be conformed to the world). In other words, we don’t participate in our transformation in isolation or as a solitary endeavor. It must happen in a context of like-minded people who are as invested in each other’s growth as they are in their own. Additionally, I must do something with my expectations regarding the nature of transformation. It is far from bloodless. As a matter of fact, at times it is quite chaotic and even (banish the thought) messy. It is filled with “smoke and fury.” It is the wrestling match in which I might “win” but I walk away with a limp forever reminded of the battle I waged to participate in this thing Paul calls transformation. It is embodied by what I call the “train wrecks of the Bible.” People like Peter who couldn’t resist eating shoe leather every other statement that came out of his mouth. It is people like Jonah who actually went the opposite direction from where God commanded him. It is people like Mary Magdalene who had blown up her life with countless men and one-night stands. It is people like Paul who wrote this part of Scripture, and I can’t help but envision him growing introspective of the times he spent fighting God off by killing the nascent but growing church of Christ. Yet, there is one thing that all these have in common — they were transformed because of the risk they took to live in community with other transforming people, and they were willing to risk actually living out that to which Christ had called them. They were willing to survive the bloody revolution that God wreaks in their lives while He transforms them into people who change history. Whether it is world history or whether it is a community’s history, or even a family history it doesn’t matter.

So, transformation isn’t as much of an issue as trust. Am I willing to trust God enough to embark on this journey? And, the kind of renewing of my mind rests on what I choose to do related to conforming (no renewal just slow and steady adapting), reforming (a self-created country where all things are under control, but has the appearance of change), or transformation (a chaotic, messy, and even bloody process of trusting God enough to wrestle with Him). It’s a matter of what we cultivate (trust or control) that’s important to determining the place in which we land.

Tags: Billy Crystal, Brennan Manning, Christ, Fernando Lamas, God, Jesus, Paul, Zelig

Eternity in here and now

Something for my silent retreat friends (and anyone else who might enjoy this…)

Often when I think of eternity and the Lord being the great “I Am” I’m a little sad because I feel like I have to stop moving and be braindead to be with it. But we can experience eternity in everything from dancing and singing to teaching and gardening. The eternal and infinite is super active and is life itself, and you can access it by simply asking God to be in everything you do today.  — Ron Schnarr

P.S. If you are enjoying reading on this blog, please be sure and invite people to subscribe. It can easily be done on my website at http://www.drmitsch.com and look for the subscription box up near the top of the page. Thanks!

When Darkness Sheds Light

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When darkness sheds light

The soul still sings in the darkness telling of the beauty she found there; and daring us not to think that because she passed through such tortures of anguish, doubt, dread, and horror, as has been said, she ran any the more danger of being lost in the night. Nay, in the darkness did she, rather, find herself.

St. John of the Cross
Dark Night of the Soul

CCU Silent Retreat 2012 – Retreatant Reflections

Editor’s note:  This post was written by one of our female retreatants. — RM

This is my first time on the silent retreat, and I can most definitely say I am grateful that I came, but what a beautiful challenge it is to be here. I decided to post a couple entries from my journal over the last few days.

March 9, 2012- My third entry for the day,
I feel as if the common word among our group has been “beloved”, and today was my turn to come across it. I was reading a devotional book and came upon the  passage entitled, “Come Away My Beloved.” It is the viewpoint from God where He says He is our husband and He is jealous for our attention. He needs to be first. THis is not a new epiphany for me, but rather another reminder that my relationships will survive, as well as my future marriage, when God is in them with a strong force. In all reality, the strongest force. I realized that I am not capable of fully loving the people in my life the way I should without the help from the Lord. My flesh will fight me, but if I pray to see and love through the Lord;s eyes, I know it is possible. I am afraid of failure. Not to disappoint anyone but myself. I am afraid of failing grad school, failing as a wife and as a mom, and even simple things like keeping up my exercise routine when I move back home after graduation. I do not even know why I feel this way, because no on has ever put pressure on me to be perfect. Even I do not want to be perfect, I want to be successful. Wow, I am hit with the reminder on the passage in 1 Corinthians 13 about love. It says, “Love never fails,” and here I am being fearful of failure, and I was reflection earlier today on how we do not know what it means that, ‘perfect love casts out fear.’ Hello! The Spirit is trying to tell me something. I came here without expectations about what the Lord was going to reveal to me, and before dinner tonight I was reflecting on the fact that humans so naturally form their God-concept based on experiences with people, and more often than not, it is based on the negative experiences. Because of that natural tendency, we do not recognize what it means to be loved perfectly by the Father. It broke my heart when I realized that and it caused me to pray for the chains around our hearts to be broken…for the chain around my heart to be broken. Tonight I felt a restlessness calling me to dig deeper into my thoughts, and my fear of failure is what I have stumbled upon. Now I know I can sleep peacefully and continue this battle tomorrow.

March 10, 2012
I feel tired today despite a restful night’s sleep. I think it is a mixture of my body being naturally tired and my thoughts traveling in every direction. My restless mind frustrates me, but I think that is because I often convince myself the only way I will hear from the Lord is through my thought life. The last 24 hours have clearly proven otherwise, and yet it still bothers me. I try to stop having a one-sided conversation with Gd, but as soon as I try, an unrelated thought comes to mind. It is rather exhausting. I so desire for that to be easier, but I know it only can be with much discipline on my part. I read the book of John today. SO often does it reference love and how we are to love others so they can see the Father, Also mentioned numerous times was the coming of the Holy Spirit as our Helper. APart from the Divine Trinity, my flesh is weak, flawed, and arrogant. Nothing good can come from me unless done in His name. My fears of failure will come into fruition if I stop living with open hands and a life of obedience. Yes, I know life will still have its bumps in the road, and I will still make mistakes, but living by the Spirit grants me a healthy perspective for when those circumstances do arise. You would think I would feel more joyful knowing I do not have to do things on my own accord, but alas! Though freedom is freeing, it is also quite frightening.

Dr. Saxby made my day today. I was sitting in a chair in one corner of the main room and he signaled a request to sit in the neighboring chair. Upon my approval, he came over, put his hands on my shoulders, and proceeded to give me a hug. It’s amazing how meaningful actions are, even unaccompanied by words. I was all smiles after that.

After I wrote that, I spent some time outside despite the strong prevailed winds. I found a patio and sat against the wall of it in order to shield myself from the bluster. I found my frustrations still prevalent in regards to my wandering, and often pointless, thoughts. After pondering how I can still my thoughts enough to hear the Lord, I found myself with closed eyes repeating the phrase, “Lord Jesus, have mercy on me.” Soon after, I left the patio and starting walking across the grounds. I was struck with the wind as well as God saying to me, “Emily, I am stronger than your thoughts.” Once again, this was clearly something I knew, but I also clearly needed the reminder. Suddenly the verse, “My thoughts are higher than your thoughts, and My ways are higher than your ways,” could not be ignored in my conscious. I stopped myself near an opening, closed my eyes, and let myself sink with those comforting words. God is bigger than my restless mind. It might frustrate me, but He is God, and He will find a way to communicate to me in a way that I will hear. It is just up to me to recognize it. After dinner I went to the top of the property that faces west and enjoyed the art of the sunset. In that time, God said to me, “You think too much,” in a comical way,and I laughed aloud and said, “I know.”

Oh to be known intimately and loved deeply by a truly Awesome God.

Silence – a window and a mirror

Silence / Silencio (Photo credit: victor_nuno)

The first 24 hours of a silent retreat is often the most jarring. Not only do you have to become accustomed to the “deafening” silence, but you also have to become accustomed to the cacophony of your own thoughts. Slowing that process down is no easy thing. We become pretty acclimated to the speed of life. Even if we go to sleep at night the mind keeps working. One of my students referred to it as “restless mind syndrome” making the parallel to “restless leg syndrome” which you will often hear commercials on the radio regarding this medication or that treatment to help alleviate such a condition. For the restless mind, there is no such “treatment.” Therefore, when a person is assaulted by the silence, and the accompanying solitude that silence brings, the restlessness in our thoughts is brought into sharp focus.

Once you finally overcome the tornado-like effect of your own thoughts and they begin to slow down to just a windstorm, and perhaps even down to a gentle breeze you begin to realize that silence becomes not only a mirror, but also a window into your own heart. There are moments in time that I am in need of a mirror in order to see things I wouldn’t otherwise be able to see. Some of the more mundane tasks in life we depend on a mirror to accomplish. When it comes to the condition of our own selves though a mirror sometimes is the last thing we want. Of course, for most of us we assume that what the mirror is showing us accurate and truthful. Imagine what it would be like to try to shave (for men) or pluck your eyebrows (for women) with a distorted mirror. Yet, when it comes to my heart I am often using a very distorted mirror to look at the condition of my heart. What introduces the distortion is my commentary on what I see rather than the image itself. “I hate how I look…” “If I only could get rid of that blemish.” “I am so ugly.” These statements are not only a commentary on our physical appearance but can also be applied to our inner worlds as well. The same can be true when I enter into silence, and look into the mirror. Yet, if we persevere and trust the process God uses in revealing to us aspects of ourselves that need attention without piling on with shame, guilt, and reproach, we might be surprised at what we see. Of course, as with so many things concerning examining and evaluating ourselves we have a biased judge. Yet, that is what is so amazing about allowing the silence to permeate our inner landscape. It opens the possibility of opening a window into that landscape to breathe life, hope, and even grace.

Which brings us to the window that silence opens. If you think about it, windows accomplish many things for us. They not only keep the bad out, but they also keep the good in. They are not only a boundary for the outside world, but they also allow to see that outside world. Windows allow us to look from a safe distance in order to decide what we want to do with the landscape we are viewing (e.g., go out and explore, make some changes in what we see, or determine that we should never go out there). Silence allows us that kind of window into our inner landscape as well. It not only reflects back to us what is there, but it also gives us an opportunity to view it. We not only view it, but depending on the context of silence in which we find ourselves, we also might be prompted to do something about taking action to respond to what we see. For me, that is often the effect silence has when I participate in retreats such as this. The silence works as not only a mirror to see what is there, but also a window to focus my attention on what (if anything) needs to be done. I think in many ways that is why so many people fear such silence. For one they don’t want to see what they fear they will find, but upon finding it they are not really sure what to do about it except despair that they are really as bad as they thought.

On the other hand, as I embark on these annual pilgrimages into the landscape of my heart, I am always surprised by the grace that I find. That grace is not of my doing, but it is a result of my willingness to not only look in the mirror, but also open the window. I’ll admit that these actions are often accomplished with great travail and even resistance, but other times it has been a matter of acquiescence to the gentle voice of my Abba who calls me into this landscape. When I sense such a voice, my first inclination is to assume that I’m being taken out to the woodshed for some “talking to,” but what I’m met with is no such thing. What I find as I open this window is a breath of fresh air that breathes hope into the dry and weary land I call my heart. It is these relatively insignificant and small steps that bring the life for which my soul was searching.

Another year, another silent retreat

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Well another year’s silent retreat is upon me, and I will be joining 4 other retreatants this year — 3 students and one other faculty member. As for me, much of my time spent here is not only focusing myself on the state of spiritual journey, but vein available to the others in our group for spiritual direction. It should be a great few days in silence. Please pray for this group. It is made up an interesting diversity of students all of whom are seniors. If you’ve never been to one of these, it is certainly worth considering at some point. It’s a little like a spiritual pilgrimage except closer to home (Sedalia, CO). Silence has an interesting way of invoking enough of a difference from the ordinary that you begin to focus on things that you might have never given much thought before. We underestimate the assault of noise (both internal and external) we endure each day. When you come to an environment like this you realize it more so than ever. Also, if you have ever done reading on silence, it is also accompanied by solitude. In many ways, when you allow silence to envelope you solitude does as well. Additionally, you also get the opportunity to listen to God’s voice in a new and sometimes jarring way. That’s not to make it sound terrifying, but again the noise of our lives drowns out a lot of other things (e.g., God’s voice) so we can’t even hear it.

So, we all covet your prayers as we plunge into this journey of silence. I will have further reflections from some of the retreatants and myself as it continues.

Blessings!
RM

The Effects of Shame

As I sat and listened to the story of Nicodemus once again, I was reminded of the effect shame has on me and probably most men when it comes to being reminded that we areless than we “should” be. Nicodemus was an interesting guy considering his position of power in the Jewish Sanhedrin(ruling body) of his day. Here is a gentleman of significant stature in his community stealing his way into a room where Jesus is teaching, hiding in the corner to not be seen, and then approaching Jesus with questions which seem so basic to many of us, but are of real importance to even many more. The question of the evening seemed to be: How can God love someone like me? Of course, added to this was the effect of watching the movie “Courageous” last night. In spite of the somewhat shaky acting, and less than robust story-line, I couldn’t help but be moved by the overall message of calling men “out” to be the fathers and men we are called to be; to come to grips with our humanity. Coming to grips with our humanity doesn’t mean condoning our mistakes and neither does it mean hiding behind them either. Which brings me to the topic of this post — shame. What I do with shame is a determining factor in whether I actually grow or not.

Let me, as I am want to do, define my terms first. First of all, shame is the central term to this post, and is one of the most powerful motivators of our behavior whether it is to avoid it, or to use it with others. Allow me to explain. Virtually the first mention of this emotion in Scripture was on the heels of Adam and Eve’s conspiracy (Adam’s silent compliance, and Eve’s active choice) to disobey God in the garden. Their remarkable condition in the garden was summarized by the words… “they were naked and unashamed.” All of each person (Adam and Eve) was psychologically, emotionally, and physically available to the other without shame or fear. Of course, the basis of shame derives its power from fear. Look at what happened the moment they crossed the boundary God had set regarding the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. First, they became aware of their nakedness, and shame resulted from their awareness of their condition. Interestingly, Adam names it accurately when God came calling — “GOD called to the Man: “Where are you?” He said, “I heard you in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked. And I hid.”” (Gen. 3:9) He felt fear for the first time, named his condition of being exposed, and he hid. Unfortunately, both men and women have been hiding ever since in response to this fear and shame. Before this moment in time, both Adam and Eve weren’t afraid, and weren’t ashamed of their condition. Yet, we have been living this curse ever since that time. Particularly for men who because of their silence powerfully point to the fact that they have never been given the legacy of courage in order to overcome their fear and speak the truth in love to those they love.Shame is a “fascinating” and powerful emotion. For most people in my field of ministry journeying with people through a variety of life issues they face, shame is one step beyond guilt. Guilt is something we experience when we have done something wrong, or made a mistake particularly when it has harmed a person about whom we care. Shame is something altogether that is different and deeper. It is the emotion that is experienced and demands the conclusion that not only have I made a mistake, but I am a mistake. It moves beyond a statement of guilt, to a statement of being. I have done something that is wrong, but I am also wrong in my being. In a sense, I am irredeemable, hopeless, and worthless. It’s one thing to have done something wrong, but it is something entirely different to be a mistake myself. Unfortunately, that is how many of us feel even when we have done nothing morally wrong. I recognize this in myself particularly when I have not lived up to the standards I believe I am to uphold, and by which I am to live as a man and a leader of my home. What results is the kind of shame under which I collapse in a heap. What’s to be done? For so many men, including myself, we become paralyzed by our shame, and unfortunately this kind of shame isolates us further from any sources of encouragement or assistance. Unfortunately, or otherwise, we seem to strike such a pitiful display of self-loathing that those around us begin to feel sorry for us. As a result, before long the pain of resignation and shame abates, we shake ourselves off, and just keep moving without ever tackling the core issue of from where this shame and guilt emanates. Therefore, the cycle continues.

There is another even more devastating effect of shame on many men that I have witnessed. This effect is something that not only isolates, but it also insulates many men from ever changing. After all, if I am such an irredeemable and hopeless wretch, how can anyone expect me to change let alone myself? As a matter of fact, this abiding belief is what sets in to insulate men from ever attempting to do anything different since the results will always be the same considering the main character is me! The results are devastating — not only are these people isolated from any source of support or encouragement, they tend to insulate themselves from any change since the results are always known.

Of course, as you no doubt have begun to recognize, this malady is not specific to just men. It is an equal opportunity destroyer! Both men and women respond to these same emotions – fear, shame, disgust, resignation, and isolation. The only defining differences between the two genders is often simply the sets of strategies they each employ in order to ease the pain of such emotions.

Of course, the looming question is: What’s to be done? How does one overcome such shame even if it is built on an abiding fear that I will never measure up, and I will always end up in the same place no matter how hard I try? How do you accept yourself (otherwise known as “forgive myself”), release the demands of perfectionism, and live in both truth and grace with freedom? While I may run out of time rather than space, let me tackle each of these in order. Let’s start with: “How do I accept myself?” Or, as some would put it: “How do I forgive myself?” The first question is far more powerful than the second actually. Of course, upon some inspection, there is an implication that in order to function with any degree of health or wholeness, one should be able to accept oneself. On one level there is much to not accept, right? After all, virtually every day we are reminded that we are not who we should be. Whether that is a self-condemnation, or whether it comes from others and only echoes what we are already thinking or suspecting, either is equally damaging. The key word in the forgoing sentences, specifically two sentences back is the word, “should.” The moral standards that “should” delineates for us are essential to our sense of “plumb.” In other words, when our lives are “plumb” or square with the moral standards set out in Scripture, we have set out for us something toward which to strive. But it isn’t the big “T” truths of the moral standards that are the issue here. Instead, it is in the internal absolutistic, demanding standards of the “shoulds” which command us to be something that we are not and probably will never be. This is so since the bar for this standard is ever rising, and rejects the limitations of being human or our finitude. In the final analysis, the bottom line to finding the answer to this question lies in what we do with trust. I know, it’s probably a hated word for many reading this. On the other hand, while not hated, it is an issue with which we all struggle since it is in our DNA as humans since the first encounter with trust in the Garden of Eden eons ago. How can I say that with such assurance? All I have to do is look at the evidence of the degree of control we attempt to exercise over each other, and over ourselves. Inherently, the degree of control we see in ourselves betrays the lack of trust we have not only in ourselves, but in each other. It’s one or the other.

In the final analysis, acceptance can only be built on trust. Trust that what God proclaims about us is true. Trust that we can accept ourselves as we are, and find freedom, and with that freedom the strength and courage to live in truth and grace. Ultimately, accepting the truth about who we are in our limitations and flaws can either condemn us or it can free us. Of course, it’s not as simple as “just accepting” is it? While, in some ways, it is that simple, but when it comes to a rigged judge, jury and executioner in our heads, the verdict is always the same. In many ways, it is transferring our “trust” from one to the other. After all, we are trusting something, and that something ends up being the voice of the judge rather than the voice of our savior who pronounces us free and loved. The bottom line, in my way of thinking, is that it all depends upon toward what am I going to aim my life? Am I going to act “as if” it is true every bit as much as I act as if the falsehood of my condemnation is true? If so, then I not only need to begin (at least) to make decisions predicated on the “as if” truth of my redeemed state if I expect to have anything to change. Additionally, and here is where the true “rubber meets the road”: I begin to hang out with the kind of people who are walking the same journey as me. If I hang out with the Pharisees who spout off all the “truth” which only resonates with the Pharisee in me that continues to condemn me to shame and isolation. Or, I choose to hang out with the rabble who desperately follow Jesus in the full recognition of their need for Him, and the full acceptance of what He offers them in the grace that sets them free. This is the same grace that free us to reach for heights never seen before in terms of integrity and mercy. I guess, it’s a matter upon what are we going to build our case for life — trust or control?

Abstract Conversations

Abstract conversations

Instead of telling our vulnerable stories, we seek safety in abstractions, speaking to each other about our opinions, ideas and beliefs rather than about our lives. Academic culture blesses this practice by insisting that the more abstract our speech, the more likely we are to touch the universal truths that unite us. But what happens is exactly the reverse: as our discourse becomes more abstract, the less connected we feel. There is less sense of community among intellectuals than in the most “primitive” society of storytellers.

Parker J. Palmer
A hidden wholeness

Remembering to forget

I haven’t done this before in The Outpost for the Heart blog, but there’s always a first time, right? This particular entry is particularly for men, but you ladies can certainly “listen” in. I had an experience last night that got me thinking about forgetting, remembering, and “straining for what is ahead.” The basis for my reflections to follow was sparked by a message our lead pastor gave last night that put the capstone on an 8 week series entitled “Reverse Engineering” and was primarily directed to men. As a result, our focus last night was on a passage in Paul’s letter to the Philippians in chapter 3 starting in verse 12.

As a relatively average American male, I think that my experience is not really unlike other men which is one perspective I bring to these thoughts. The other perspective is having the privilege of participating and walking with many men over the three decades of my counseling ministry as they tackled the struggles and tendencies that we all have with our flaws, mistakes, and struggles. What that means is within the culture of men there is a particular value in the ability to “compartmentalize” our experiences particularly those we would like to “forget.” Humorously, marriage enrichment speaker Mark Gungor refers to the male brain as made up for a bunch of “boxes.” (to hear a portion of his presentation just follow this link) What this means is that we are relatively proficient in stuffing a variety of failure experiences into one of these boxes or compartments and assume that we have now “forgotten” it freeing us to “strain to what is ahead.” The problem with this approach is that without a resolution and integration of these experiences into our understanding of who we are, who we are in Christ, and who we are to the people around us and love us, we will continue to have these things haunt and discourage us to believe that we will never be the kind of men described in church last night. I am reminded of a story told by Pastor Rick Warren (of “The Purpose-Driven Life fame). Love Canal was a neighborhood of Niagara Falls, New York. It came by its name because a developer (William T. Love) had seen an opportunity to link Lake Ontario and the Niagara River. After some measure of debate, this project was abandoned and the site for the canal turned into a toxic waste dump. Up to 21,000 tons of toxic waste was dumped into this site in 55 gallon drums. Over time, the site had been sold to the Niagara School Board which anchored a neighborhood with a couple of schools. Alarmingly, birth defects and the other effects of the toxic waste began to appear in the residents of this neighborhood. The 55 gallon drums had broken open, and leaked into the water table of the neighborhood contaminating all who had exposure to the water. You may be asking, “What does this have to do with men and forgetting their past?” The connection is found in thinking about the 55 gallon drums as the boxes into which we stuff the aspects about us we would rather “forget.” What happens, just as it did in Love Canal, is that these boxes break open and leak into our emotional “water table.” In other words, the effects of these boxes effect how we think, how we feel, and most importantly how we react to the people around us.

This is my assertion: We cannot forget if we don’t remember, and without this “forgetting” we are hamstrung in our efforts to “strain for what is ahead.”

What is important to unpacking this assertion is to take the key terms and understand them thoroughly before we even attempt to do what Paul is exhorting us to do. First, let’s consider “forget” or “forgetting.” At the risk of being overly detailed, forgetting can include one process that those of us who are aging faster than we would prefer to admit know only too well. This process is primarily the decay of the information because we are processing so much information that we can’t hold it all in our memory. Therefore, without going over it in our minds, the information deteriorates, and we simply don’t remember it anymore. We refer to this process as “forgetting.”

Another process is probably closer to what Paul was referring. This process is not from decay or deterioration, but it occurs when we do something with that information in order to “put it to rest” or “let go” of it. Much of our willingness to “forget” these things about us hinges on how we think we are motivated to change. Before I get into that, let me insert a word of explanation into this process of forgetting. When I asserted, “We cannot forget if we don’t remember” I want to make it clear that in order to prepare ourselves to “strain for what is ahead” we need to do something to “lay it to rest” which requires remembering or recalling whatever the thing is that we hold against ourselves or others hold against us. On the surface, this seems contradictory, but it would be like a doctor who upon seeing an injury remarks, “Nothing further to do here since it appears healed.” Doctors don’t have that luxury. They must make absolutely sure that nothing of the injury remains to interfere with the healing. Most of their work focuses on removing obstacles (broken bones, infection, damaged tissue) that stand in the way of healing, and then and only then, trust our bodies to do the rest. In the same way, the sure-handed and faithful Physician, makes it possible for us to look at our flaws, mistakes, and struggles in order to remove obstacles to our continued growth and intimacy with Him and others.

Now, let’s get back to underlying problem regarding “letting go.” One of the most profound underlying issues to our “letting go” of our mistakes and foibles is our beliefs regarding what leads to change. Thinking in big brush strokes, there are basically two ways motivating change — either avoiding some aversive outcome or condition, or pursuing that which will produce the change we desire. The first strategy is based what we have learned throughout life to produce change — to avoid shame. The second strategy is based on grace that frees us to pursue (“strain”) what is ahead while choosing to embrace the grace that is ours. This grace allows us to be free to choose life instead of death as Moses told the Israelites in his final challenge to them found in the book of Deuteronomy (“Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life,” Deut. 30:19). Thinking about how shame “works” think back to Adam and Eve’s first response to God once they had sinned. They were ashamed. Unfortunately, shame has been part of the human DNA ever since. As a matter of fact, it is typically our first response to blowing it, yet it is not sufficient to produce change. The kind of shame that I know that I feel is the kind that paralyzes me from doing anything different, but at least portrays a picture to others that gives them hope I will change. Often, unfortunately, it doesn’t actually produce the change, but it does work to relieve the pressure of actually changing.

The second approach to change is embracing grace, and in some respects is even more courageous, and actually prepares us to “strain for what is ahead.” This embracing grace approach, in spite of all our bluster and talk, is probably the most difficult because it means living with ourselves in grace. Now, don’t misunderstand what I am saying here. It is not that we should accept anything less than obedience which is the “stuff” of which responsibility is made. At the same time, it’s not when we are responsible that we struggle, it’s when we fail that we get undercut. Living with ourselves means living with both the truth of who we are as humans who blow it, but also with the grace to accept our shortcomings and openly deal with them. Living life this way is the fullest expression of loving, protecting and providing for those we are responsible and love.

Therefore, the challenge is not to “just let it go” or “release it” which are euphemisms that we can hide behind to do just the opposite – a Love Canal job on our shortcomings. The questions of challenge are more accurately, “To whom do I need to repent of the damage I’ve caused them by my choices and behavior?” “Who do I need to forgive?” “With whom can I reconcile now that the way has been paved by repentance and forgiveness?” “To whom do I need to ask the question, how have I harmed you (not to find discover something I don’t know, but to validate the harm we know we have caused and resist defending ourselves)? These kinds of questions are what true change is built upon. So, I have to remember in order to not carry extra baggage (forget) in my journey to strain of what is ahead while keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the author and perfecter of my faith – Jesus Christ. Forgetting is not a matter of decay, but a matter of resolving what is behind so it doesn’t distract us from straining for what is ahead.

A Daring Raid

Well, now that the “glow” of the Christmas season is behind us, and the snow (if you have any) is turning a putrid grey — it’s time for some new snow, at least around here in Denver!  Ah… but I digress.  I have been left thinking a lot about the Christmas season and how easy it is to grow numb to the explosive meaning it has for me and other Christ-followers.  Now, you might read that last sentence and say, “Explosive?”  That’s a bit of an exaggeration isn’t it?  Not really,  but allow me to give you a somewhat scary look into the grinding of my mind lately.

In late January 1945, a group of over a hundred Rangers and Scouts and several hundred Philippino guerrillas traveled 30 miles (48 km) behind Japanese lines to reach a POW camp where 500 US soldiers had been imprisoned in the most horrifying physical and psychological conditions that was unrivaled in most of the war. Many of these soldiers had already survived the Bataan Death march

following the surrender of the Philippines to the Japanese not long after the attack on Pearl Harbor. In a nighttime raid, under the cover of darkness and a distraction by a P-61 Black Widow, the group surprised the Japanese forces in and around the camp. Hundreds of Japanese troops were killed in the 30-minute coordinated attack; the Americans suffered minimal casualties. The Rangers, Scouts, and guerrillas escorted the POWs back to

 American lines. The rescue allowed the prisoners to tell of the death march and prison camp atrocities. This raid was considered the most dramatic of World War II.

Now, what does this have to do with Christmas? Well, here is where my mind has been swirling … Let me tell you the punchline first, and then we can develop it. Christmas, in so many ways, represents a parallel cosmic great raid that will, and does leave people shaking their heads incredulously at the craziness and paradoxical character of such a move if it were to be by any deity conceived by mens’ minds. On the other hand, it can only be a God as described in Scripture that would do something this upside down, this completely unexpected to accomplish his plan of reconciliation with us. What made the Great Raid

of the WWII dramatic, and incredibly “crazy” was the courage and confidence of the Army Rangers to go 30 miles behind enemy lines to rescue those who couldn’t rescue themselves. Where’s the parallel? It begins with the craziness of God’s love to first take on human form at all. It would be one thing to come crashing into the dark kingdom with guns(celestial, of course — do you ever wonder if there’s a “Rambo” amongst the angelic armies?) blazing, and take out all resistance and rescue those who “live in the shadow of the dark kingdom.” Certainly God could have done that, but instead He “sneaks” into the dark kingdom in the frailty, fragility, and vulnerability of a human baby. I can’t help but conclude that coming in this way was so completely intentional (gosh, where did you get that idea, right?) in order to not only save those who ultimately trust in His heart to save them, but also to communicate something to us. There is so much about how God conducted his daring raid that communicates something of what’s important to Him. Just as Raid at Carbanatuan was conducted completely in stealth, God “snuck” in behind enemy lines in order to become a prisoner with us. He became like us to suffer the same heartache, the same hunger, the same limitations in which we lived. It would have been similar if somehow the Allies had planted a POW in the camp to conduct the raid from the inside out. But, in Christmas we get

to see from an incredible depth a “daring” raid in order to free us.

If that doesn’t blow your mind, think with me for a second about what the chances would be that God would choose us. The series of pictures here are from progressively farther and farther out into space looking at the earth. The first one is looking at the milky way from about 1000 lightyears out in space (the bright dot in the middle is our galaxy). The next picture down is another look at the milky way.  Now, let’s go out even further… the final picture on the right bottom is 100million lightyears out in space looking at our “neighborhood” in space. Hmmm… did you just get lost? Yet… yet… God picks out a speck the size of perhaps a mustard seed in the scope of the space into which to insert Himself. What are the odds? Some would say… it’s impossible, but yet spout a syrupy sweetness about love that anything is possible with love. What they don’t know is just how true they are. It was God’s

immense, crazy kind of love that would pursue us through the expanse of space to become one of us just to walk among us and give us the invitation to freedom.

Let’s descend back here to earth for a minute. So, the question has to be asked, “What’s the point besides the obvious part of saving us?’ Here’s where I believe it gets really quite remarkable, and even moving. Since God chose to come in the form of a human baby, could it be that He was saying something about the power of vulnerability and even the brokenness of humanity to grasp the full meaning

of His incarnation? There is a pattern that I see in myself as well as others. That pattern is to deny, denounce, and even distort the nature of our humanity. Either in attempting to create the picture of an invulnerable and perfect humanity, or throwing up our hands in futility concluding that why should on even attempt anything close to self-control. God took on human form to show us

 what to do with our own humanity, and rejecting it isn’t the cure for our intransigent sinfulness. In actuality, it is in the full embrace of our humanity and its inherent brokenness (not only publicly but privately as well) that we will experience the freedom that Christ immersed Himself into our nature to allow us to find.

What does “full embrace” mean? I have seen over the years of talking to people that we tend to vacillate between the extremes I mentioned earlier (perfection or fatalism/debauchery). There is certainly a

brokenness that is inflicted upon us by a variety of forces of evil whether human, or nature/life. From this brokenness we have some difficult decisions to make regarding what we will do in response to such externally inflicted evil. There is also a brokenness that is self-inflicted brought on by our choices, and the conclusions we make about ourselves (sometimes because of the first kind of brokenness I described). Both are the focus of much of our efforts to recover. But, these two are not where most of us live, though. It is in the natural state of our humanity that we contend. We are limited, finite, and prone to live in the future rather than the present. We are driven by control rather than trust in order to secure our safety (both personal, emotional, and spiritual). While the aforementioned qualities of our humanity are not exhaustive, they are instructive. The degree of self-contempt, and_ self-rejection in which we engage regarding these qualities is directly proportional to the level of our intimacy not only with God, but with others. Yet, the solution is not “harder, faster, longer, higher, or even better.” In actuality, the journey lies before us to walk the journey of Christ while He was on the speck of cosmic dust we call earth. It is to live “fully” in our humanity not settling for what is, but striving to lock arms with others to discover all that we can be in the fullness of the life Christ promised if we lived fully in Him. Brokenness is not our enemy… it is a reality in which are to live, and discover the freedom of the love of a God who conducted a daring raid into enemy territory in order to journey with us home.

Francis Chan and the Awe Factor of God