Monday, March 31, 2014

One Step at a Time


‘Step by step.’  ‘One day at a time.’  ‘Every journey begins with a single step.’  Our culture has a variety of wisdom-sayings that encourage us to take things slowly and deliberately and patiently.  These sayings are very important, because in our anxiety and haste, we can feel like we have to “fix everything RIGHT NOW!!!”  But when we take things slowly, and only expect to figure things out “one step at a time,” even our most difficult projects can become manageable.

A number of years ago, my wife and I took a trip to Zimbabwe to visit our dear friends, Mark and Ruth, who were working there.  A highlight of the trip was a day-hike that we took with Mark.  We were hiking up one of the many kopjes (medium-sized hills of rock; pronounced “copies”) around Zimbabwe.  The kopje we climbed is named Ngoma Kurira, and is about 25 minutes outside the capital city of Harare.

Mark had told us that it would be a “nice day hike.”  Well, my assumptions about what constituted a “nice day hike” (easy, gentle slopes; about a 45 minute walk) did not match the reality of Ngoma Kurira.  The hike involved navigating a small ravine, in which we placed our feet on one side of the ravine, while we leaned across to place our hands on the other side of the ravine.  We then crab-walked our way for a short distance, while virtually horizontal over the ravine.  (If you’re having trouble getting a visual image, that’s probably just as well.  Believe me, it wasn’t pretty.)

But the most demanding—and ultimately, the most satisfying—part of the hike was climbing the face of the rock, a 500-yard climb at a 60-degree angle.  Standing at the base of the rock and looking up, I laughed nervously and said, “We’re going up that?”  Mark said, “Yep.”  I said, “No, seriously.  For real?”  Mark said, “Yep.”  I continued, “Mark, I’m not sure I can make it to the top of that thing.”  And then Mark said—and this is what blew me away—“Right now, your task is not to get to the top.  Your task, right now, is to focus on finding a place for your left foot to go.  Then, your task will be to find a place for your right foot to go.  Eventually, you’ll be at the top.  But you’ll only get there one step at a time.  So, for the next 45 minutes, I focused on one step at a time, not thinking about anything else, as we climbed the steepest, longest rock-face I have ever climbed. 

45 minutes later, we were at the top.  It worked.  My nervous, skittish self had become a rock-climber.

So many times in our lives, we become consumed by, threatened by, intimidated by the big questions in our lives.  “What will I do with my life?  How can I become a good person?  How can I put together this major project?  How can I finish this work of art?  How will I ever raise a child successfully?”  We can become so demoralized by where we think we need to end up that we do not pay attention to our next step.  “What is the next thing I need to do?” 

It is good and necessary to have a general sense of where we are headed.  Otherwise, we’re likely to go nowhere.  (After all, we did select this one, specific kopje to climb.)  But once we have established a general sense of where we’re going, then we can concentrate our energies on the much more modest task of, “What is the very next thing that I need to do?”  Sometimes, the “very next thing” is simply to pray for clarity about what the “very next thing” actually is.   One step at a time.

Monday, March 3, 2014

Lent: A time for laying down our defenses

This Wednesday (March 5), Christians around the world will celebrate Ash Wednesday.  This day begins the 40-day journey of Lent to prepare ourselves for the events of Holy Week – Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday.  

The preparatory season of Lent is a time when we can reflect on, and ask God to deepen, our own commitment to God and God’s kingdom.  During Lent, we are invited to reflect on our own lives - in as honest a way as possible.  During Lent, we engage in the kind of practice that 12-step movements call a “searching and fearless moral inventory."

Our Lenten self-inventory is “searching” because we want to examine every part of our lives.  We want to look into the shadows of our lives, looking under all the rocks and hidden places inside of us, looking for all the places where we try to hide from God and God’s call on our lives. 

Our Lenten self-inventory is “fearless” because we can engage in this self-examination without any fear that we are going to find something that will make us unlovable to God.  There is nothing that can make God reject us.  Absolutely nothing can separate us from God (cf. Romans 8:38-39), not even the unsavory and unattractive parts of our lives.  God does not reject us, only accepts us.  We are profoundly and completely accepted by God, as we are.  God accepts, and is ready to heal, every part of us - even those parts of ourselves that we are ashamed of.  When we are willing to turn over to God those parts of our lives that we are afraid of, or ashamed of, God sets us free.

The sharp point of the Lenten invitation is that we are invited to lay down all the ways that we defend and protect ourselves.  Over the course of every day, in a whole variety of ways, we can guard and protect ourselves from other people, from events in the world, and from God.  From the time we are small children, we are taught to protect and defend ourselves.  “Keep your guard up.”  “Watch your back.”  “Eyes open, at all times.”  “Boys don’t cry.” “Don’t let others get mad at you.”  “It’s best to do everything yourself; that way, you can make sure nobody messes it up.”

These words of advice may serve us well if our primary life-goal is to 'stay safe' or 'be popular' or 'always be in control.But when we live by these and similar codes, we will be (1) reluctant to trust others (including God), (2) hesitant to share ourselves with others (including God), (3) inclined to avoid sharing our gifts with the world, and (4) tempted to see other people as threats rather than neighbors.

The Christian life is a journey of learning to live for the world, rather than living in fear of the world.  It is a journey of living with the world - in all of its pain and complexity and messiness - rather than trying to stay safe from the world.  We are invited this Lenten season to lay down some of our self-defenses, which may have helped to keep us safe in the past, but which have also bound us and held us back from a life of freedom and abundant love.

What is one way that you protect yourself from the world?  (If you’re like me, you may have a whole repertoire of ways to keep yourself safe!)  What is one way that you defend yourself against being vulnerable, guard yourself from being exposed to the thoughts and opinions of others?  Please do not beat yourself up about this, but simply begin to notice the times during the day when you go into “self-protection” mode.  When are you most likely to feel the need to self-protect?  What goes through your mind when you feel like this?  Can you notice some negative repercussions of this self-protective behavior?  What does it cost you, or take away from you?

As we become aware of these ways we protect and defend ourselves, we can ask God in prayer to help us lay them down.  We can ask God to help us let go of these defenses, so that our hands can be more open to share life with the world, instead of clutching on for our personal safety.  As we lay our fearful defenses down, we will walk into our lives with greater freedom, no matter what may come our way.

No punishment

"There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love." -- 1 John 4:18

The verse above is an enormously important text for taking the measure of our spiritual growth.  We may ask, "How is it going with my spiritual life?" We can re-phrase this question by asking, "How often am I afraid?  How large a presence does fear play in my daily life?  Am I afraid of other people?  Am I afraid of God?  Am I afraid of the future?  Am I afraid of taking chances?  Am I afraid of messing up?  Am I afraid of what other people might think?  Am I afraid of what will happen if I really speak my mind?  Does fear drive any of my actions?"  If you're anything like me, the answer to at least some of these questions - and sometimes a lot of them! - is "Yes."  The amount of fear in our lives can be a gentle signal of how much growth we have yet to do in our spiritual lives.  (It can also be an enticement to continue on the spiritual journey, to imagine how much more abundant our lives will be as we live with less fear.)

I take it that the key goal of our lives is to move towards "perfection in love" - complete love for God, complete love for other people, complete love for the whole creation, complete love for ourselves.  One of the things that can block us from this life of greater, deeper love is fear of punishment.  This can even (and perhaps, especially) be the case when it comes to religion.  Fear can drive a lot of "religious" behavior.

People can go to worship, not to praise and adore God with their whole hearts, but because they think that might make God less likely to punish them if they've been to church.  People may be scared of God, rather than filled with love for God.  People can also do a lot of religious and service activities, not with love and generosity, but with fear.  They can engage in these activities as a way of demonstrating to the world that they are good religious people, and as such, they deserve to be rewarded, and not punished.  Their activities, then, do not flow with love and joy, but are done with a kind of tightness and rigidity.

We may say what others want us to say, even though we don't agree with them, because we don't want them to punish us by rejecting us.  We can keep our mouths shut when someone is telling a racist, sexist, or homophobic joke, because we don't want them to punish us with ostracism.  We can spend a lot of money on clothes or cars because we want to fit in with the crowd, and because we don't want the crowd to punish us by making fun of us.  Large parts of our lives can be lived in fear.

Whenever we are acting out of fear, we are not living in Love.  We are not allowing Love to guide us.

Let me say it as clearly as I can: There is no punishment.  I truly believe this.  God may judge us, but God does not punish.  Love may judge us and hold us accountable, but Love does not punish.  Now this does not mean that there are no consequences for our actions.  Along the way, we will make mistakes, even horrible mistakes.  We will commit sins and offenses.  And there will be consequences for those mistakes.  If we break a precious vase, it will still break, and we may still need to pay for it.  But we need not experience that as cosmic punishment.  If we lose our head and yell at a loved one, the relationship may still be damaged, and we may need to engage in the difficult process of saying we're sorry, making amends, and working for reconciliation.  It may be difficult, but we need not experience it as cosmic punishment.  We are still, and always, held by Love.

Love will hold us accountable, but Love will do that without punishment or cruel scorn.  So we need not be afraid of being held accountable.  We can live in Love, always.