Something To Celebrate

If you watch television, you will come to believe over time that your calling in life is to buy and consume – food, cars, technology, clothes, hair products, movies, music, books, sex, alcohol, and more television.  These things are so seductive.  They are salve.  You know that feeling of putting your hand under cold water after you have burned yourself on the stove?  Instant relief.  The pain ceases immediately and all you want to do is hold your hand under flowing faucet until the burn heals.  This is how I am with consuming.  Other than food that I actually need to survive, most of my purchases (sometimes even food) are made to relieve some burn I have.  This is not always a conscious thing, but I think probably almost always there.  For a moment or even many moments, consuming feels like satisfaction of some deep need.  I take something into my life and the space inside is filled, like the cold water rushing over a burn.  

When I was a kid, I lived in an area of Chicago called the “Gold Coast.”  And, it was as it sounds.  People there had the means to consume whatever was advertised.  Just to the southwest of the Gold Coast was one of the most gang-, drug-, poverty-, and crime-infested projects in the country at the time: Cabrini Green.  During this particular period in history, we all had a hero, whether we lived in the Gold Coast or Cabrini Green, named Michael Jordan.  Michael Jordan had a product line, you’ll recall, called Air Jordans.  One pair of these shoes was over $100, which was quite high during that time.  But to have these shoes meant something about your status, your allegiance, and your worth.  Despite this high price, many people who lived in Cabrini Green and in other impoverished areas wore these shoes.  The people who could “afford” these shoes complained about how sad it was, and what flaws it exposed in the character and perseverance and values of the poor, that they would spend what little they had on these expensive, unnecessary Air Jordans.  No wonder they were poor, they said. 

Today, those who can “afford” smart phones – i-Phones, etc. – make these same comments about those who cannot afford such things.  I have heard people complain that poor people should use the money they spend on i-Phones to buy healthcare and then at least that problem would be fixed.  If people would save their money and spend it on the things necessary for survival instead of on these unnecessary things, then they would be better off.  There are homeless people I know who have been screamed at by passers-by for having new shoes or expensive looking jackets or bags.  How can you be begging for money on the street and then using it to buy such things, they ask.

Unquestionably, people make bad, illogical purchasing decisions.  This is true of poor people and wealthy people.  And, I cannot explain every poor choice, clearly.  But I am willing to bet all I have on this:  most of our poor purchasing decisions (and by this I mean purchases we make that we cannot afford or that we simply do not need by any objective measure) are driven by a burn that we would do just about anything to relieve.  The people who lived in Cabrini Green and bought Air Jordans and the people who lived in the Gold Coast and bought Air Jordans suffer from the same affliction.  They have a huge space inside of them and when a salve that offers the hope of alleviating the pain appears, they will take it at any cost.  This is true whether it ultimately undermines healing, busts budgets, causes longer-term pain, or looks like the most illogical choice one could make under the circumstances.  

Last week I hosted a dinner for about 25 people in my life with whom I have experienced the presence of God.  We gathered to celebrate God’s goodness and from the outside, a description of this collection of individuals sounded a little like the beginning of a joke: a lawyer, a homeless guy, and an ex-prisoner walk into a bar . . . We were from all walks of life, literally.  As one friend said, you could not have come up with a more diverse and unlikely group had you simply taken everyone on a local city bus and put them at a table together.  We shared communion together, prayed together, shared a meal, and then shared stories about the work of God in our lives.  There are simply no words to describe the holiness of that night, and my head is still reeling from it.  I have struggled to understand all that happened and all that I felt for days.  I only realized this morning, while reading my Bible, some of what I believe God showed us the night of our gathering.

1 Corinthians 8:1-3 says this: “But while knowledge makes us feel important, it is love that strengthens the church.  Anyone who claims to know all the answers doesn’t really know very much.  But the person who loves God is the one whom God recognizes.”  Each of us at the table had our own Air Jordans at one point in our lives.  These Air Jordans came in different sizes, shapes, and packages, but we all had them, we all fell for them, we all sought their immediate relief from the deep burn in us.  We also all at one point in our lives came to the realization that these Air Jordans did not heal us.  They only made the burn deeper and more painful.  We came face-to-face with the fact that nothing we consumed could heal the deep burning in us.  No amount of cold water, no immediate relief, no Air Jordans and no cell phones, would suffice. 

We sat with each other at that table, each having had experienced this naked and terrifying moment.  And, for each of us, it was in this naked moment that the real healer showed up and recognized us.  Every person had a story about the day Jesus Christ came into his or her life and brought healing of the long-term and transforming kind.  By this I don’t mean someone said they once lied and after they confessed it, they were healed.  I mean each of us had incredible darkness in our hearts, inexplicable pain, and inexorable trappings.  You know, the same stuff that’s in your heart and your life if you dare to look closely.  But each of us, in the very moment of deepest despair, was met with recognition from Christ, the one who created all things, “is before all things,” and in whom “all things hold together.” (Colossians 1:16-17)  With his recognition, the deep burn began to be healed for the first time. 

To be sure, each person at the table last week has a long journey to becoming fully transformed into the likeness of Christ.  Darkness still rears its ugly head in us and we still fall for quick-fixes and temporary salves.  Daily, we need to surrender the open spaces and burning places to Christ.  His work has begun, though, and he will not stop until completion.  (Phil. 1:6)  This is something to celebrate.   

See Things

At the end of last week, I developed some kind of eye problem that has caused me to go without my contact lenses until my eye is healed.  I am wearing my glasses, and unfortunately, because I have become so reliant upon my contacts, these glasses are two or three prescriptions behind.  No one's life is in danger, but let's just say, I'm not at my seeing best.  This morning, as I made my way off the train, though, I saw things I have always missed somehow even with better vision.  When you get off the train at Union Station in Chicago at rush hour, there are mobs of people, all marching to work.  Mobs.  Some days it's worse than others because several trains, although scheduled to arrive just the right amount of time apart, come in all at the same time.  You feel a little like you're part of a herd and your best strategy in finding your way out to the open air is to keep your head down and make sure your feet don't get tangled. 

I noticed two things today.  Every single person carries, pushes, or pulls something -- a coffee travel mug, a briefcase, a backpack, a suitcase, a stroller, a box, a book, a child, a wheelchair.  There is not a person who is free-handed.  And it turns out, everyone has some kind of ailment.  The lady in front of me has an Ace bandange around her elbow.  The woman next to her has a black wrist splint on her right arm.  Another woman has a foot that bends inward and she walks crooked as a result.  A man up ahead limps.  Another man cannot stop coughing.  All these broken bodies.  If these were computers or mobile devices, we would trade them in, demanding a free replacement. 

Then there's all the internal ailments.  The guy who sat next to me on the train bit his nails down to the quick as if he has not eaten in days.  Anxiety.  It pulled his eyebrows down, wrinkled his face, and quickened his breath.  The father and son who ride together everyday sat apart today.  There were people all around who carried hurt with them along with their briefcases, bags, and books.  There were hearts broken this past weekend and deep, lasting pain that resulted.  There were parents walking to work who haven't seen their kids in years because of something that started small, or something that was really big.  There were Sunday nights that ended in marital fighting and turned backs.  There were regrets for things said and done.  There were heavy hearts for things unsaid and un-done.  There were those who were so happy this morning that Sunday night ended so that at least for a few short hours, the loneliness will abate.  And there are those who are headed for a day in which their deepest insecurities will be exposed, their longest-held fears realized, or their hardest choices made.  

These people I saw today are the ones that bump into me on the street, who cut me off in traffic, who go too slow in the left lane, who walk too absentmindedly, who don't go fast enough when the light turns green, and who haven't decided what to order by the time it's their turn in line.  These people I saw today are you and they are me.  They need grace.  They need love.

"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. . . . chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline.  Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense.  Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you.  And regardless of what else you put on, wear love.  It's your basic, all-purpose garment.  Never be without it."  (Col. 3:1-3; 12-14) 

Vision, Purpose, Core Values

This past weekend, my law firm held its all-partner retreat. This is a great opportunity to have some fun, bond, and talk through where we're headed as an organization. It was a very productive retreat from my perspective. The focus was our "core values," and the vision and purpose supported by those values. Learning and thinking about this in the context of my firm got me thinking about my own life. What is my purpose? What is my vision? What are my core values? The way these terms are defined are as follows:

Vision: what you desire to become.
Purpose: your reason for being.
Core Values: the ideals you respect and honor in carrying out your purpose and reaching your vision.

So, on the train home last night, I wrote out my vision, purpose and core values.

Vision (what I desire to become):



"Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." (Eph. 5:1-2) My vision is to become more like Christ everyday -- to love as he loved.

Purpose (my reason for being):



"So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God." (1 Corin. 10:31) Whatever I do, I will do for the glory of God. That is my very reason for being.

Core Values (the ideals I will honor in carrying out my purpose and reaching my vision) :



The Pharisees asked Jesus "which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus answered: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments." (Matt. 22:36-40) All that I do must be informed and driven by loving God and loving others.

I know that my personal vision can be reached. I know that my purpose can be carried out. I know that my core values can inform all that I do. But, not in my own power. As Paul said to the Colossians, "[t]his is the secret: Christ lives in you. This gives you the assurance of sharing his glory." (Col. 1:27b) And, "I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength." (Phil. 4:13) Amen.

Keep Your Eye On The Ball

I played tennis with my daughter this weekend and said more than once: "Keep your eye on the ball." Ever notice how hard it is to keep your eye on the ball? And, you don't even know you didn't until you miss and almost dislocate your shoulder.

Yesterday I opened my cable bill and it was significantly higher than usual. So, I called the cable company to find out why. Turns out that the plan I originally signed up for had expired and I was no longer receiving a particular discount that I had been receiving. I asked what my options were and whether there were any new discounts or deals. The woman I was speaking to told me there weren't any new deals (sure . . .) and the best option to lower my bill would be to downgrade from the "Digital Premium" service I was currently getting to the "Digital Basic" package. When she said this, I felt something in me that said, "You can't do that! You need Digital Premium!" Disregarding this thought, I asked her what the difference was between the two. Came down to a few additional channels with the premium than with the basic. I told her I needed to think about it and see whether I could find a satellite company from whom I could get a better deal. Here, she was supposed to say, "Oh, no, don't do that, I'm sure I can get this number down a bit more." But, she didn't. She simply said: "Okay. Do you need anything else?" I was stunned and hung up, thinking, huh, I thought that was supposed to work.

I then got up to walk around, thinking about whether I really would call another company and how much time that would take. And then I said out loud (thankfully no one was near me at that moment): "Why do I need digital cable again?"

So, of course, this got me thinking about what I say I believe and who I say I follow. And then I compared this with what my actions and deep reactionary thoughts reveal. Is my eye on the ball?

On December 20, 2008, I wrote out my commitment to follow Jesus Christ and put Him at the center of my life. And so often things like Digital Premium cable squeeze Him out. I lose focus, I lose sight, I take my eye off the ball. I start to believe the commercials I see that tell me that my life will be better if I have digital cable (or certain jeans, or coffee, or books, or whatever). The thing about it though, is that I don't even know it's happening until I have a conversation with the person at the cable company and start to feel slight heartache at the thought of downgrading from premium to basic digital cable. Just like you don't realize you've taken your eye off the ball until you miss it.

None of this is to beat myself up, that would not be productive. It is just a way of reminding myself, as I did with my daughter as we played tennis, to keep my eye on the ball. Paul said: "[S]et your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things." (Col. 3:1-2) Or, as it says in the Message version: "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." I suspect, though don't know, that Christ does not care about digital cable. So, neither will I.

Identity

I lease a Nissan Pathfinder. It's not a luxury car necessarily. But I LOVE IT. Yes, I do. I love driving it. I love the way it smells. I love that it has leather seats and a sunroof. I love that the seats are automatic and there is a little button I can press so that every time I get in, the seat adjusts to just where I need it to be. The windows go down AND up automatically. I love that it has a third row of seats and a huge storage area. It can carry my golf clubs and bikes. My entire Christmas tree can fit inside without any part hanging out the back. I can plug in my I-Pod and listen through the Bose speakers. There is no navigation system or DVD player, but I don't "need" those things. Oh, it also has really great cup holders. And a two-tiered glove compartment.

Recently, I had to take the Pathfinder into the dealership to get its oxygen sensors fixed (don't ask because I don't really know). It took a while to fix because they had to order the appropriate parts, etc. Anyway, they gave me a rental. And the rental was a red Chevy Cobalt:



I am not proud of this, ok, but I got in this car and thought: I'm so glad this is not my car. It did not have leather seats or a sunroof. My golf clubs would have to stick out a side window. Three-quarters of the Christmas tree would poke out of the trunk. The windows were manual. The seats did not move. There was no place to plug in my I-pod. The glove compartment had just one tier. I thought that I might be able to pick the car up if I stretched a little beforehand. It seats five people maybe, if they're small. The trunk could definitely store a couple bags of groceries.

None of this is SO bad I suppose. I mean everything I've pointed out that was wrong with this car is based in utilitarianism. The Cobalt doesn't suit my many needs for an acceptable car. These things were not the real issue, though.

The real issue was deep and abiding and embarrassing. I was ashamed to drive this car. This car was not good enough for me and who I am. What would my colleagues think if I drove up in this Cobalt? What would my friends think? And, my family, what would they think? I assume they would think something bad had happened. They wouldn't look at me as the one with money and success. Everyone would think, and maybe I would too -- that I was moving backward instead of forward. After all, I should be getting better cars as my career moves ahead. My next car should probably be a Mercedes or BMW. Maybe eventually a Porsche. (I'm not even mentioning here the other issue this internal conversation raised because I could and should compile an entirely separate entry for this: my frequent ungratefulness about what I do have. Ugh.)

Somehow, who I am had become (in my own mind) what I drive, what I own. I realized I had tied my identity and my worth to stuff. This is so shocking and terrible. Yet, it is so human. It hurt me and made me apologize to God because it is a way of forgetting God, forgetting that He leads my life. I had forgotten that He says my life and identity are in Him: "[Y]our life is now hidden with Christ in God." (Col. 3:3) My identity is not my car, or the stuff I buy and own. My life is hidden with Christ in God. What an amazing little statement with such far-reaching consequences. Hidden means unseen, cloaked, covered. I am safe in God. He is cloaking me, covering me. When I try to tether my identity, my life, to the things I own, I am exposed, I feel uncertain. There is always a better car, or a bigger boat, an I-Pod with more memory and apps. So, I have to keep reaching and striving and moving and spending. It's tiring, really, to try to keep up.

I am so grateful the oxygen sensors on my car failed. God, in His wisdom, knew that this was the way to get through to me, the way to show me that my life is hidden not in the things that I own or the car that I drive, but with Christ in God. Now that I have new life in Christ, I am free to set my mind on things above, not on earthly things like Pathfinders and I-Pods. I don't have to keep striving and climbing and achieving and buying. My life is hidden with Christ in God.

I know that God will have to teach me this lesson again and again because of my humanity. But for now, message received. Praise God!