An Expectation of Failure

I used to bite my fingernails. As soon as there was any nail there it was gone. This caused me to have painful hangnails on a fairly regular basis and also meant I always had short, stubby, ugly finger nails. I hated the way my nails looked. About once a year, maybe a little more often, I would decide to stop biting my nails. For maybe two weeks it would work. But then I would bite one off and the rest would be quick to follow. At that point I would decide it was pointless to keep trying since clearly I would fail. For the next several months the idea to stop wouldn’t cross my mind. Then, I would have some nice event to go to, maybe a wedding or dance or graduation or whatever. I would decide to try again. And I would fail.

That is until one day I decided to stop. And I did. There was nothing different about this time, nothing that sets it apart, except that I succeeded. I stopped biting off my nails. They are sometimes nice looking, sometimes not so nice looking, but never bitten. I know what the difference was between the last time and all the others- every other time I allowed that I would fail at some point. And when I did I shrugged it off as inevitable and just kept going.

When we allow for failure we invite failure. I see this in so many different ways. I’m never going to be good at praying, so when I struggle to pray as much as I know I should I shrug it off as inevitable. When I hear myself utter a word I don’t really want to say I figure that’s how everyone around is talking so it’s unavoidable that I should at some point do the same. When I don’t pick up my Bible for a day (except for work related “research”) I figure that’s normal, sometimes we fail. And I’m not saying we can be perfect. I’m not saying we will ever stop failing. But when I allow myself to expect failure I invite that failure to lay a foundation for the future. I find that the more I allow failure to be expected the more I fail. When I don’t let myself look at a missed day of communion with God, or a missed opportunity to pray for guidance, or a stream of thought that is anything but uplifting and God honoring as expected I am far less likely to be okay with it. I don’t think we should be okay with failure.

When I become okay with my failure I have no reason to strive not to fail again. I need to place the expectation of perfection on myself so that when I do fail I will not embrace the failure but strive to become better. Of course, for some people I expect that opposite is true. Some people may be too caught up in trying to be perfect. But for me that’s not the problem. Accepting failure only leads to more failure.

What Shouldn’t Be

A man I know from days when I spent my summers sitting on the beach and sweating in the kitchen and growing with friends around 24/7 is a missionary in Israel- specifically, the West Bank. He is a wonderful Christian man and loves Jewish history. He hates what he sees. He writes about his experiences among “God’s Chosen”. These people who believe they deserve to have whatever they want. He writes about how Palestinian Christians can’t participate in special Easter activities because the Jews won’t let them into that part of the city. He writes about how Palestinian children attempt to earn money washing car windows- willing to be mocked if it earns them a nickel. He writes about the consequences a Palistenian woman faces for having a Bible in a language she can read. He writes about young men serving as soldiers following orders they don’t necessarily believe in. But today as I read about what he saw I actually had tears in my eyes. A Palistinian man owns land- it is his land, not rented, not owned by a community, but his alone. It’s not a lot, but it’s his. He plants the seeds, he waters the seeds, he keeps the weeds out. He watches as the seed grown. It’s wheat and as it matures he has the comfort of knowing he’ll be able to provide food for his family because of his land. For this year they won’t starve. Just before it’s time to harvest a group of men bring their sheep and goats down to his field. They let the sheep and goats go wild, eating and trampling the entire field. Soldiers come and the man tries to get them to make the sheep and goats leave. But the soldiers are Israeli Jews and the shepherds are Israeli Jews. They live atop the hill and come down, presuming that they have every right to take whatever they want from the Palestinian Israelis who have no right to be there. The next day and the next the soldiers accompanied the shepherds with their sheep and goats, ensuring their safety as their animals ate the wheat from the land owned by the Palestinian man.

It breaks my heart to think that we (Americans/Christians/American Christians) step into the Middle East and say- we support you Jewish Israelis. We will throw our force behind you as you fight these terrible people. It seems to me the terrible people are the very ones we are putting our force behind. Well, were. There is absolutely no justification for the actions taken by the Jewish Israelis.

Pleasure Seeking

My devotions this morning were focused on seeking pleasure. And the question “what do you expect to get from that specific pleasure” was asked. It made me realize something- I don’t really know. I spent quite a while trying to figure out what I expect to get, aside from pleasure. As in, when I turn on the TV, what am I expecting to receive from the TV. When I indulge in a bowl of ice cream what am I expecting to get from that food? When I open up a book, what am I expecting to get from its pages? I honestly struggled with this- beyond the pleasure- the it feels good feeling- what am I expecting to get from things? I often think about the fact that I should spend less time watching TV or reading fiction. I know I should pass on the bowl of ice cream. But rarely do I look beyond the face value, the fact that these things provide some amount of “feel good” for me. So, what’s at the route of these pleasures? Why do I find enjoyment in these activities? I know to some extent, but I’m still working on that. I mean, it’s easy to say that the books and TV provide an escape from the “real world”- a new, exciting experience. But that seems to me a more complicated way of saying they “feel good” or whatever. So I throw the question at you- what do you get from your pleasureful activities beyond just the “feel good” feeling? Why do you find enjoyment in those particular activities?

Good cop, bad cop…which are you?

This post on SCL made me smile. Maybe it will make you smile as well.

I Hate Peanuts

I’m not sure if it’s real. I don’t know that it really matters. A friend posted the link to a youtube video that shows the secrets teens posted annonymously on MySpace. It’s 8 minutes of people’s secrets. One of the secrets was “I hate peanuts”, another one was “I want to commit suicide, but don’t because of one person”, many of them were something along the lines of  “I love him, but he doesn’t know it”.  One was “I don’t believe in god anymore “.  There were far too many about cutters, suicide, and depression. A couple of them were about drinking too much. Several were about no self esteem. What I found most discouraging, and I don’t know if this is edited to only include the depressing ones or not, but out of 8 minutes of secrets maybe 1 minute were neutral to positive secrets (things like “I like him but he doesn’t know” or “I hate peanuts”). I know teenagers today are hurting. I know that if you work with or spend time around teenagers you also know this. But how do we get these “secrets” out there so they can be addressed? How can we help a teenager struggling with an eating disorder realize they don’t have to keep it a secret? How do we show the secretly gay kid that he can be honest about his sexuality? How do we reach the kid who is so hurt she doesn’t care if she lives or dies that she is loved?

As I read the secrets I couldn’t help but think about the teenagers I see every day. I wondered if any of them had shared a secret. I wondered what secrets they were keeping hidden from the world. And I realized that we need to do better. We need to be better. The world requires you to keep your secrets to yourself. When you are depressed you should hide it, if you have an eating disorder don’t let anyone know, if you had sex younger than you would have liked don’t admit it. But the church needs to be the opposite. We need to be a safe place. We have to find a way to be the place where teenagers (and adults) don’t need to wear their mask. It seems like today you walk into church and there is a mask on, everyone wants to appear spiritual and godly. I think we have embraced imperfection (at least to some extent) but in our embrace we have somehow made things worse, not better. It’s okay to mess up, admit you do, but only admit to certain things. Like not reading your Bible enough or swearing. In our acceptance of imperfection we have actually made it harder for people to be honest about their struggles. If you think the biggest struggle the guy down the row from you faces is weather or not he prays enough, you’re certainly not going to be willing to admit that you have trouble with pornography (which, while we’re at it, is probably one of those that it’s okay to have struggles with if you’re a guy and are fighting it). If you think the hardest thing for the pastor’s wife is not gossipping you are probably not going to admit that you struggle with an eating disorder.

Okay, this is getting long. But I want to know, how can I make church a safe place for youth to come and be themselves. Not the public version of themselves and definitely not the “Christianized” version of themselves. I know we can never create a perfect place where there will be no hiding of things, but how can we, how can I, create a space that let’s teenagers admit their secrets and struggles. How do we make church the place kids come for help when they have no where else to turn? Because we have the answer. We just have to know how to get it to them.

Alley Talk

I spent Saturday afternoon with a group of freshmen and sophomore girls taking pictures of their modern retelling of the good Samaritan. The vast majority of the pictures needed to be taken in a “dark suspicious looking alley”. So we headed to a questionable part of town and found our alley. We set up for picture taking along side of some neglected apartment buildings. We laughed about wondering how many people were peeking out windows staring at us, but didn’t actually see anyone as we began. Then just after we did the scene where a group of robbers (in this case a gang) beat up our victim an older man walks out and stands a bit away watching what’s happening. They need me for my pictures and when we finished that part he was still standing there, so I went over to talk to him. He asked if we were working on a school project or something, so I explained that we were making a slide show. I’ll be honest, I was uncomfortable because of two things- one, as the youth leader I felt a responsibility to set a good example for the girls, and two, I really wasn’t sure what to say to this guy because I wanted to be participating in the picture taking. So after a slight pause I added that the video was a modern day retelling of the Good Samaritan. I decided that if he kept talking about it so would I, but if not I would just let it go. He responded quickly with an “oh, yeah, yeah, I know what that is” answer. So I let it go and went back to taking pictures. He stood watching for a little while longer and then headed off. I was feeling pretty guilty about it all after words, since I hadn’t done a very good job “evangelizing” and had been given the perfect opportunity in so many ways.

A few hours later we were eating dinner when one of the girls says something about the guy in the alley. She says to me, “I’m glad you told him we were doing the Good Samaritan, I was hoping you would”. I smile at her. But now I know, they were paying attention to what was going on, and they noticed what I did and didn’t say. So now I feel even guiltier.

That night as I lay in bed I’m still thinking about this incident. I’m running it through my mind wishing I had been the stereotypical evangelical preacher and just plunged ahead with “are you a Christian? Do you believe in God?” or some version of that. But then I realized, it’s not what I do or don’t say. God is the one in charge of it all. I probably could have done better, but that man took something away from the alley that day. It might be the first step in an elaborate plan God has to meet him, or perhaps not. Either way, what I did and didn’t do won’t get in the way of what God has planned. And so I fell asleep trusting that my failure might be God’s success.

Dear World: I Know, I’m Sorry

The questions that have consumed the church’s attention are no longer center topics in our circles. Gone are the days when we intensely debated the literal interpretation of the Creation narrative. We desperately want our peers to acknowledge God as Creator, but we’re not losing sleep over whether they think those seven days were twenty-four hours long or longer.

We’re not captivated by the banter over whether believers are predestined or whether they accept Christ through free choice. Since we’re already experiencing a relationship with God, we figure we’ll just wait for the postlife course, How It All Really Worked 101, to nail down the details.

And please don’t send ups a rerelease of 88 Reasons Why the Rapture is in 1988. We really don’t mind whether God raptures us pre- or posttrib. The point is Jesus is coming back, right?

Don’t get us wrong, Church. we value these theological questions. We really do…

Frankly, we admire thinkers within the church for wrestling their own genration’s questions to the ground. However, we must note: their hang-ups are not our hang-ups.

From Dear Church by Sarah Cunningham

Church leaders take note: people who are not currently attending church are not looking for answers to theological questions. The overwhelming majority of people who are not already coming want to know why it matters. What does Christianity mean for me? How does the Church (Christianity) make a difference in the world? What does the Church offer that I cannot get anywhere else? That wasn’t really the point of that particular passage of the book, but it worked to illustrate my point nicely, and later on she does talk about this issue as well. But I think we (the Church) need to do a better job answering these questions, and stop going over and over and over the same theological arguments- whether those things are those listed above or issues of abortion, adultery, homosexuality, etc. These are not the issues that people need answers to. We need to be more relevant to the world. This doesn’t mean we become like the world. We need to offer an alternative that is realistic and significant for the world. And it needs to start with me and you. We can be the difference.

Silently Right

Would you rather argue when you know you’re wrong, or keep silent when you know you’re right?

My brother likes to argue. He will pick the tiniest most unimportant thing and start arguing about it. One time we got in an argument about the inside color of a mango. Often he will disagree with me about whatever he can find to disagree on. When I was younger this was a serious problem, because I always took the bait and it rarely ended nicely.

I think it’s pretty easy to get in an argument with someone. I doubt many people would choose to argue knowing they are wrong in their opinion, but I am sure there are people out there who would. On the other hand, it’s incredibly rare to find someone who will keep quiet when they know they are right. Most people want the correct idea or belief or whatever to be out there. Most people won’t sit idly by while the wrong conclusion wins.

But which would be easier? I think it would be much easier to argue wrongly than to be quietly right. It’s no fun being right if no one else knows you are. It’s incredibly irritating to hear people arriving at the wrong conclusion when you know they are wrong. It’s much easier to jump in. Much more satisfying as well.

Except when it comes to issues of justice. It’s so much easier to remain silently right. I’m not saying I want to argue wrongly, but I don’t like to speak up either. It’s hard to speak for others when the majority disagrees. It’s hard to want to put yourself on the line for people who don’t have a voice. But we should. I should.

Would you rather remain silent when you know you’re right or argue when you know you’ll lose?

Would you pray about…

I was just asked to help with VBS this summer. But the way I was asked kind of bothers me.

“Would you pray about leading the games for VBS this summer?”

I don’t want to sound like a bad Christian, but I feel like this isn’t really something that I need to pray about. And I wonder if they really think I need to pray about it or if it’s just the “proper” way to ask for help in the church. I want to help. I don’t need to pary about whether I should be doing this. I can decide on my own if my schedule allows it and if I am willing to give up a couple hours a day for a week.

Is this wrong? I feel like maybe we should set a guideline for when you ask someone to help and when you ask someone to pray about helping. Maybe if you wouldn’t talk to your spouse about whether or not you should do something you don’t need to take time to pray about it before deciding? If my relationship with God is good, I should be able to know what God desires my response to be without having to take time aside to pray specifically about it. What do you think? Do you feel it is important to pray about everything? Are there times when it just seems false to you to say “Will you pray about…”? Or is it just me?

Love the sinner…

She is agnostic. Or at least was. Now she is Bahai. She is dating a guy from the Christian Reformed Church. I belong to this church. She has shown interest many times in religion. She attended church with me a few times. Her family would go to church several times a year. She came to youth group. But she remained agnostic.

Her boyfriend’s parents told her she is going to hell. More or less exactly like that “You’re going to hell”. Now she is dabbling in the Bahai faith. She believes in God. But she thinks everyone is right, not just one religion. I’m not sure what it will take now for her to re-think Christianity. To be honest, when she first told me about this I was angry at the people who sent her away. I was angry because I felt like they had in one sentence undone years of time spent trying to bring her to Christ. Of course, this is not the right response. Nothing I do makes a difference, nothing they do can drive her away from God.

She lives next door to a CRC pastor. Ironic. She was telling me how he doesn’t act like a Christian- he drinks a lot and swears. This is what she says. I don’t know if it’s true or not. I have heard people say that someone doesn’t act like a Christian and meant it as a compliment. This was the opposite, she said it with disgust in her voice.

She asked me what I thought. Did I think she was going to hell. I knew I couldn’t lie or tame it down. I had to be completely honest, but how could I be honest and not make things worse? So I pulled out my Sunday school answer and gave it to her- I believe that the only way to avoid hell is to accept Jesus as your only savior. And then I threw in that line about not knowing if someone was going to hell or not, that it wasn’t for me to decide. I was trying to cover all my bases.

She didn’t get mad, but it didn’t change anything for her positively either. I feel like maybe I wimped out, or maybe because we have a relationship she didn’t get offended by my saying what someone she barely knows had said before. I didn’t have the chance to ask her.

This whole thing has brought up an issue I have been struggling with a lot lately. How can I (we) truly love people trapped in sin without condeming them. To say that the only way to truly love a person is to confront them about sin in their life right away or early on doesn’t feel true. But to ignore sin as though it isn’t there also feels wrong. What’s the balance? How can I love a woman who uses alcohol to take away the hurt? How can I love a man who sees no problem with having sex with his girlfriend? How can I embrace the teenager who spends the weekend partying? I’m not sure. All I know is that sin is a part of who we are, so I’m not sure I can love the sinner and hate the sin. I’m not sure the two can honestly be separated. So where does that leave me?