Just another thought regarding the Location post I just made...
When it comes to our attitudes and actions, the Bible certainly teaches us (look at 1 Corinthians 13) that love is the biggest trump card.
I have seen this to be true in ministry. People who aren't "cool," people who aren't up on all the latest technology, and people who don't know a lot about pop culture or what's on TV are still VERY effective in ministry when they simply, truly and generously love people from the heart.
Love is the big trump card.
Showing posts with label View of People. Show all posts
Showing posts with label View of People. Show all posts
Monday, July 13, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Overachiever
I have been called an overachiever before.
An overachiever is someone who does more than required. Someone who does more than is expected.
Some have meant it as a compliment. "You did so well and have gone above and beyond!" Others have offered it as a complaint. "You really don't need to waste time doing it like that."
But, to me, overachieving is more about expectations than it is about accomplishments. Kind of like movies, really. Have you ever seen the trailer for a movie and then really wanted to see it? And then when you did see it, you were a little disappointed. Why? Because your expectations were high going in. Just like when someone takes you to a movie you don't really want to see, but you go with them because they want to see it. Then, it turns out to be a lot better than expected. Why? Expectations were pretty low to begin with.
You've seen this with political candidates, too. Before any debate the campaign staff will downplay their own candidate's debating ability and generously compliment the opponent. What are they doing? Trying to raise your expectations for the opponent and lower your expectations for their candidate. Then, they hope you are disappointed in the opponent and pleasantly surprised by their candidate.
Expectations strongly effect our judgement. Expectations that we have of others (meaning, how we think they will do--not demands or requirements) tell us a lot about how we view other people.
So when people call me an overachiever, I know that they have simply underestimated me.
I once got a dose of this from the president of my mission agency after I came back from my first 3-month trip to The Location.
"Koffijah, I am so impressed with what you've done! You did a great job this summer! You know, before you left we looked at you and it was kind of like when you're watching little league baseball. We're down by two, the bases are loaded, it's the bottom of the last inning and there are two outs. Then you come up to bat and you're the boy who is last on the lineup. You have to bat because in little league everyone gets to bat. Everyone on the team moans and all the parents in the stands moan, too because this is the kid who strikes out almost every time. But Koffijah, you just hit it out of the park!"
Yes, he actually said that. I was like, "Uh... thank you." I was glad he was so happy with what I had done, but was rather disturbed that he expected so very little. I knew he had a pretty low view of me and didn't think I would be capable of doing much, but, hey, "God can use anyone!"
Do you do this with anyone in your life? Do you look at them and think, "I don't think they have what it takes." Or, "If they end up doing anything it's going to be God for sure!" If so, then we just might take time to look deeper at them and reconsider our view of them. It just might end up making a big difference.
Maybe you'll start batting them cleanup.
An overachiever is someone who does more than required. Someone who does more than is expected.
Some have meant it as a compliment. "You did so well and have gone above and beyond!" Others have offered it as a complaint. "You really don't need to waste time doing it like that."
But, to me, overachieving is more about expectations than it is about accomplishments. Kind of like movies, really. Have you ever seen the trailer for a movie and then really wanted to see it? And then when you did see it, you were a little disappointed. Why? Because your expectations were high going in. Just like when someone takes you to a movie you don't really want to see, but you go with them because they want to see it. Then, it turns out to be a lot better than expected. Why? Expectations were pretty low to begin with.
You've seen this with political candidates, too. Before any debate the campaign staff will downplay their own candidate's debating ability and generously compliment the opponent. What are they doing? Trying to raise your expectations for the opponent and lower your expectations for their candidate. Then, they hope you are disappointed in the opponent and pleasantly surprised by their candidate.
Expectations strongly effect our judgement. Expectations that we have of others (meaning, how we think they will do--not demands or requirements) tell us a lot about how we view other people.
So when people call me an overachiever, I know that they have simply underestimated me.
I once got a dose of this from the president of my mission agency after I came back from my first 3-month trip to The Location.
"Koffijah, I am so impressed with what you've done! You did a great job this summer! You know, before you left we looked at you and it was kind of like when you're watching little league baseball. We're down by two, the bases are loaded, it's the bottom of the last inning and there are two outs. Then you come up to bat and you're the boy who is last on the lineup. You have to bat because in little league everyone gets to bat. Everyone on the team moans and all the parents in the stands moan, too because this is the kid who strikes out almost every time. But Koffijah, you just hit it out of the park!"
Yes, he actually said that. I was like, "Uh... thank you." I was glad he was so happy with what I had done, but was rather disturbed that he expected so very little. I knew he had a pretty low view of me and didn't think I would be capable of doing much, but, hey, "God can use anyone!"
Do you do this with anyone in your life? Do you look at them and think, "I don't think they have what it takes." Or, "If they end up doing anything it's going to be God for sure!" If so, then we just might take time to look deeper at them and reconsider our view of them. It just might end up making a big difference.
Maybe you'll start batting them cleanup.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
"The More People I Meet...
...the more I like my dog."
I used to have one of those pin buttons with this phrase on it. I don't know if I really felt like that at the time or if I just thought it was funny. When I realized its deeper meaning I threw it away. This was a very long time ago... and before I became a Christian.
After I started following Christ and was in a fellowship of Christians I had a renewed love for people in general. Those in the fellowship were like dear brothers and dear sisters. Those outside were people we would love to welcome into our fellowship and really hoped they would join.
It took me a number of years to begin to have my faith in people eroded. And I admit... even now I find it really easy to get discouraged with people in general. Myself included.
I have written quite a bit in The Koffi House about how we view people. In fact, if you click on the label "View of People" you will get all the posts I have tagged with that description. One of the best posts regarding this topic is The Arrogance of Agape Love. It describes the difference between loving people as doing something good for them and loving people as viewing them as someone valuable.
This morning I was thinking about monks in Burma that set themselves on fire to make a political protest. I thought about other non-Western people basically throwing their lives away to make some kind of point in protest. I thought to myself, "They don't value their lives as much as we do in the West." This immediately led me to think of the verse in Revelation 12:11 that describes those who died because of their witness of Christ and their refusal to deny him even in the face of death. It says, "they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death."
You see, it's not that these Christian martyrs (or even those burning Buddhist monks) didn't value their lives. It's just that they valued something more--something greater than themselves. If I would have used my own wording to described these people do you know what word I would have chosen? I would have said, "They didn't value their lives so much..."
That's when it hit me. Value equals love. Love equals value. If we love someone we value them. Just like the martyrs in Revelation 12 didn't love their lives so much it means that they loved Christ even more. They valued Christ more than their own physical lives.
You can't separate value from love. You can't claim to love someone whom you don't value as a person or a child of God. This requires we change how we view people. This requires a change in our values.
I used to have one of those pin buttons with this phrase on it. I don't know if I really felt like that at the time or if I just thought it was funny. When I realized its deeper meaning I threw it away. This was a very long time ago... and before I became a Christian.
After I started following Christ and was in a fellowship of Christians I had a renewed love for people in general. Those in the fellowship were like dear brothers and dear sisters. Those outside were people we would love to welcome into our fellowship and really hoped they would join.
It took me a number of years to begin to have my faith in people eroded. And I admit... even now I find it really easy to get discouraged with people in general. Myself included.
I have written quite a bit in The Koffi House about how we view people. In fact, if you click on the label "View of People" you will get all the posts I have tagged with that description. One of the best posts regarding this topic is The Arrogance of Agape Love. It describes the difference between loving people as doing something good for them and loving people as viewing them as someone valuable.
This morning I was thinking about monks in Burma that set themselves on fire to make a political protest. I thought about other non-Western people basically throwing their lives away to make some kind of point in protest. I thought to myself, "They don't value their lives as much as we do in the West." This immediately led me to think of the verse in Revelation 12:11 that describes those who died because of their witness of Christ and their refusal to deny him even in the face of death. It says, "they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death."
You see, it's not that these Christian martyrs (or even those burning Buddhist monks) didn't value their lives. It's just that they valued something more--something greater than themselves. If I would have used my own wording to described these people do you know what word I would have chosen? I would have said, "They didn't value their lives so much..."
That's when it hit me. Value equals love. Love equals value. If we love someone we value them. Just like the martyrs in Revelation 12 didn't love their lives so much it means that they loved Christ even more. They valued Christ more than their own physical lives.
You can't separate value from love. You can't claim to love someone whom you don't value as a person or a child of God. This requires we change how we view people. This requires a change in our values.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Worth Saving
Can people change?
This is a hard question for me to answer. While I will say yes, it is possible, I will also say, no, it is unlikely. Not impossible, but improbable. As I grow older I find myself having less faith that people will indeed change, despite the lip service we give to making changes in our lives.
How about changing our beliefs? Beliefs about ourselves? Here's a question for you:
Which is harder for you to really believe: That Jesus rose from the dead, or, that Jesus really does love you?
Feeling like you are unloveable or are somehow a bad person is not an easy thing to change. You do bad things and those things just confirm to you that you are bad. Some bad things you do, you really want to stop doing. But you find yourself doing them again and again. You get discouraged. You feel like you can't change. You sigh in defeat, "This is just the way I am." And because that way is not good, you feel you are bad.
For many of us “bad” also means “unchangeable” or “unsavable.” Nothing good can be salvaged out of this wretched heart of ours. We suffer from depression, mostly, because we believe that we cannot change—that we will always be bad and do bad things and be unaccepted, unloved, unrespected and unappreciated by people in society.
One of the deepest questions people ask in their lives is, “Am I good?” And there are two main sources for a major answer of “No!” to that question.
One, you are not good because you do bad things—you sin. Sin has made you unclean. You have sinned in the past, you do sin and you will sin again.
Two, you are not good if you are unliked or unattractive to many people in society. You know this may not be how it really is, but it is how you sometimes feel. People don't pay you attention. People don't take you seriously. People judge you, ignore you and don't respect you all that much. People don't want to spend a lot of time just hanging out with you. At least, that is how you find yourself feeling sometimes.
There is something in you that tells you that if you were “good” people would treat you better, respect you more than they do and want to be your friend and spend time with you. Any negativity you get from other people—you turn it on yourself and feel that it is because you are not good. You don’t like the person you are because you wish you were someone other people liked more.
This is my message to you. Not only can you change, but you are worth changing. And, really, the latter is a more important issue. It is where it starts.
I remember when my Grandpa was living with us and was getting old. One time he became very sick and had to go to the hospital. He lost a lot of weight very fast. Relatives joined at our house to discuss what to do when he was in the hospital. One lady said that we need to prepare ourselves for the fact that he is dying. I was just a kid at the time—maybe just 10 years old, I don’t remember. And what she said, I now realize, was wise and good. But at the time it angered me. I felt like they were giving up on him. I felt like they were calling the game "over” when the fat lady had not yet sung. I remember thinking, “He’s not dead yet!”
About that time (I don’t remember clearly the chronology of events) I remember my dad taking me into see grandpa at the hospital. The doctor laid out the options before my grandpa and dad about what can be done, and that he needed some sort of surgery or procedure if he was going to live much longer. I think the cost of this procedure was expensive or not covered by insurance, or there was some sort of financial issue involved. (Again, I am not too clear.) But I remember my grandpa saying something to the effect that we might not choose to do the procedure—perhaps because it was too expensive and he was so old and not worth saving. But my dad didn’t waiver at all, and said that we would definitely do the procedure. To my dad, it wasn’t a question to consider—my grandpa was worth saving, at any cost.
Spiritually speaking, I have felt like my grandpa—too far gone to be worth saving. The issue isn’t just a question of possibility—it is a question of worth—of profitability. What would we really gain by saving this?
My grandpa got better, to everyone’s amazement. He put weight back on. He came back home with us and lived a life the same as before he went into the hospital. The night he died he had just finished helping me wash the dinner dishes and sang as he worked. I am so thankful that my dad saw him as worth saving.
My grandpa used to save everything. He had lived through the great depression and had lost his house during that time. Unlike people of my generation, he knew the pain of poverty, and how fleeting was worldly wealth. He did not take things for granted and therefore did not live wastefully. I remember that he saved his dinner napkins from almost every night of dinner when it didn’t get too dirty. He folded them up and kept them on top of his refrigerator in his room. They were still good. They could be used again. There was no need to throw them away so promptly.
My grandpa didn’t come from a disposable society. In our society, so many of the products we buy and use are disposable—we use them and then we throw them away. It is cheaper and easier to buy a new one than it is to re-use an old one. It has become our mentality. Once something is “old” or “used” then it cannot be made new again. So, we don’t get attached to it. We throw it away. Nothing has value to us for very long. And certainly nothing has redeemable valuable—something that we can save, or get value back out of. No, we just dispose and purchase new; dispose and purchase new.
Imagine a paper napkin that we have used to place a piece of barbecued chicken on. The sauce has dripped down and soaked the paper napkin. It is really impossible to re-use that napkin. The sauce has probably actually melted the paper of the napkin. There is no way we could, or would, take that napkin to the laundry room and wash it, dry it out, and then use it again. If we placed it in a washing machine or a dryer, it would disintegrate. But that is the point of a paper napkin—they are so cheap that they wouldn’t be worth spending the money on soap, water and electricity (much less our precious time) to re-use when we can just throw them away and grab another one out of the pack.
Now, if we had a fine cloth or silk napkin, we would probably think differently. If gravy gets on that napkin we certainly do not throw it away and buy another! We do all we can to get it clean, and restore it to its prior condition. Why? Because we have already spent a lot of money on it. It is worth more. A dirty paper napkin is not worth saving. A dirty silk napkin is worth saving because we have already invested a significant amount into it.
And that is my point about my dad and my grandpa. To my dad, my grandpa was not disposable. He was not something my dad could just so easily part with. Yes, he was sick. Yes, it was very serious. But he was worth saving. He was worth bringing back to his prior condition. My dad had no doubts about that. I am glad he didn’t.
So, I have to ask… Is your depressed and broken heart worth saving? Is it worth being changed? Is it worth being healed? Is it worth all the time and work it would require to restore it to a healthy condition?
Jesus died to say “Yes!” to this question. Romans 5:6-8 makes it clear that we were sick; we were sinners; our situation was very grave and serious. But Jesus didn’t even wait for us to ask. He didn’t wait for us “get well” on our own. No, he came with his purpose of “redeeming” us—of retaining the value that he had created us with. He came with the purpose of freeing our hearts from the prison of lies and sin, and to heal the broken hearted. Jesus wants our hearts free. Jesus wants our hearts healed.
So, yes, you are worth saving—your heart is worth saving. And if you are not dead yet, it is not too late. You are not “too far gone.” You can change, and you are worth changing.
Satan’s purpose is to get us to reject Jesus and to reject God’s grace. How do we usually reject God’s grace? By feeling that we are “not worth” saving. When we say, “I am not good,” we are not just saying that we have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory—no, we are actually saying that “we are not worth anything.” Yes, it is true that we have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory. But, no, it is not true that we are not worth saving. Satan’s most powerful deception is to get us to believe that we are “not worth” saving, so that we will thereby reject any grace, any possibility of change. (See Good and Good.)
So, in communicating the story of Jesus, we don’t just need to convince people that Jesus died save them, but that they are worth saving! This is good news!
To believe that you are worth being changed is simply to believe that God truly loves you.
“Okay, maybe I am worth being changed, but CAN I be changed?”
I think that if you can change your mind about your worth (that your heart is good, not bad), then you can change.
This is a hard question for me to answer. While I will say yes, it is possible, I will also say, no, it is unlikely. Not impossible, but improbable. As I grow older I find myself having less faith that people will indeed change, despite the lip service we give to making changes in our lives.
How about changing our beliefs? Beliefs about ourselves? Here's a question for you:
Which is harder for you to really believe: That Jesus rose from the dead, or, that Jesus really does love you?
Feeling like you are unloveable or are somehow a bad person is not an easy thing to change. You do bad things and those things just confirm to you that you are bad. Some bad things you do, you really want to stop doing. But you find yourself doing them again and again. You get discouraged. You feel like you can't change. You sigh in defeat, "This is just the way I am." And because that way is not good, you feel you are bad.
For many of us “bad” also means “unchangeable” or “unsavable.” Nothing good can be salvaged out of this wretched heart of ours. We suffer from depression, mostly, because we believe that we cannot change—that we will always be bad and do bad things and be unaccepted, unloved, unrespected and unappreciated by people in society.
One of the deepest questions people ask in their lives is, “Am I good?” And there are two main sources for a major answer of “No!” to that question.
One, you are not good because you do bad things—you sin. Sin has made you unclean. You have sinned in the past, you do sin and you will sin again.
Two, you are not good if you are unliked or unattractive to many people in society. You know this may not be how it really is, but it is how you sometimes feel. People don't pay you attention. People don't take you seriously. People judge you, ignore you and don't respect you all that much. People don't want to spend a lot of time just hanging out with you. At least, that is how you find yourself feeling sometimes.
There is something in you that tells you that if you were “good” people would treat you better, respect you more than they do and want to be your friend and spend time with you. Any negativity you get from other people—you turn it on yourself and feel that it is because you are not good. You don’t like the person you are because you wish you were someone other people liked more.
This is my message to you. Not only can you change, but you are worth changing. And, really, the latter is a more important issue. It is where it starts.
I remember when my Grandpa was living with us and was getting old. One time he became very sick and had to go to the hospital. He lost a lot of weight very fast. Relatives joined at our house to discuss what to do when he was in the hospital. One lady said that we need to prepare ourselves for the fact that he is dying. I was just a kid at the time—maybe just 10 years old, I don’t remember. And what she said, I now realize, was wise and good. But at the time it angered me. I felt like they were giving up on him. I felt like they were calling the game "over” when the fat lady had not yet sung. I remember thinking, “He’s not dead yet!”
About that time (I don’t remember clearly the chronology of events) I remember my dad taking me into see grandpa at the hospital. The doctor laid out the options before my grandpa and dad about what can be done, and that he needed some sort of surgery or procedure if he was going to live much longer. I think the cost of this procedure was expensive or not covered by insurance, or there was some sort of financial issue involved. (Again, I am not too clear.) But I remember my grandpa saying something to the effect that we might not choose to do the procedure—perhaps because it was too expensive and he was so old and not worth saving. But my dad didn’t waiver at all, and said that we would definitely do the procedure. To my dad, it wasn’t a question to consider—my grandpa was worth saving, at any cost.
Spiritually speaking, I have felt like my grandpa—too far gone to be worth saving. The issue isn’t just a question of possibility—it is a question of worth—of profitability. What would we really gain by saving this?
My grandpa got better, to everyone’s amazement. He put weight back on. He came back home with us and lived a life the same as before he went into the hospital. The night he died he had just finished helping me wash the dinner dishes and sang as he worked. I am so thankful that my dad saw him as worth saving.
My grandpa used to save everything. He had lived through the great depression and had lost his house during that time. Unlike people of my generation, he knew the pain of poverty, and how fleeting was worldly wealth. He did not take things for granted and therefore did not live wastefully. I remember that he saved his dinner napkins from almost every night of dinner when it didn’t get too dirty. He folded them up and kept them on top of his refrigerator in his room. They were still good. They could be used again. There was no need to throw them away so promptly.
My grandpa didn’t come from a disposable society. In our society, so many of the products we buy and use are disposable—we use them and then we throw them away. It is cheaper and easier to buy a new one than it is to re-use an old one. It has become our mentality. Once something is “old” or “used” then it cannot be made new again. So, we don’t get attached to it. We throw it away. Nothing has value to us for very long. And certainly nothing has redeemable valuable—something that we can save, or get value back out of. No, we just dispose and purchase new; dispose and purchase new.
Imagine a paper napkin that we have used to place a piece of barbecued chicken on. The sauce has dripped down and soaked the paper napkin. It is really impossible to re-use that napkin. The sauce has probably actually melted the paper of the napkin. There is no way we could, or would, take that napkin to the laundry room and wash it, dry it out, and then use it again. If we placed it in a washing machine or a dryer, it would disintegrate. But that is the point of a paper napkin—they are so cheap that they wouldn’t be worth spending the money on soap, water and electricity (much less our precious time) to re-use when we can just throw them away and grab another one out of the pack.
Now, if we had a fine cloth or silk napkin, we would probably think differently. If gravy gets on that napkin we certainly do not throw it away and buy another! We do all we can to get it clean, and restore it to its prior condition. Why? Because we have already spent a lot of money on it. It is worth more. A dirty paper napkin is not worth saving. A dirty silk napkin is worth saving because we have already invested a significant amount into it.
And that is my point about my dad and my grandpa. To my dad, my grandpa was not disposable. He was not something my dad could just so easily part with. Yes, he was sick. Yes, it was very serious. But he was worth saving. He was worth bringing back to his prior condition. My dad had no doubts about that. I am glad he didn’t.
So, I have to ask… Is your depressed and broken heart worth saving? Is it worth being changed? Is it worth being healed? Is it worth all the time and work it would require to restore it to a healthy condition?
Jesus died to say “Yes!” to this question. Romans 5:6-8 makes it clear that we were sick; we were sinners; our situation was very grave and serious. But Jesus didn’t even wait for us to ask. He didn’t wait for us “get well” on our own. No, he came with his purpose of “redeeming” us—of retaining the value that he had created us with. He came with the purpose of freeing our hearts from the prison of lies and sin, and to heal the broken hearted. Jesus wants our hearts free. Jesus wants our hearts healed.
So, yes, you are worth saving—your heart is worth saving. And if you are not dead yet, it is not too late. You are not “too far gone.” You can change, and you are worth changing.
Satan’s purpose is to get us to reject Jesus and to reject God’s grace. How do we usually reject God’s grace? By feeling that we are “not worth” saving. When we say, “I am not good,” we are not just saying that we have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory—no, we are actually saying that “we are not worth anything.” Yes, it is true that we have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory. But, no, it is not true that we are not worth saving. Satan’s most powerful deception is to get us to believe that we are “not worth” saving, so that we will thereby reject any grace, any possibility of change. (See Good and Good.)
So, in communicating the story of Jesus, we don’t just need to convince people that Jesus died save them, but that they are worth saving! This is good news!
To believe that you are worth being changed is simply to believe that God truly loves you.
“Okay, maybe I am worth being changed, but CAN I be changed?”
I think that if you can change your mind about your worth (that your heart is good, not bad), then you can change.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Managing People
If management is defined as the art of getting things done through other people, then I have one thing to say about it:
I suck at it.
Sorry for the language—I rarely speak like this, but there is no better word that can describe my abilities more precisely.
Whether trying to get things done through other people in business, or by directing them in ministry, I usually end up very disappointed, angry, disillusioned and hurt. The people who were under my management usually end up very disappointed, angry, disillusioned and hurt. In other words—my management style is hell on relationships.
Now, perhaps I’ve being a little hard on myself. I do have a few success stories over the years. But I think I have more disappointments. And one of my consistent feelings is, “Why don’t people do things better than they do? Why don’t they take more responsibility? Why don’t they see that this level of quality is still not enough?” I often am amazed that even though they agree to accomplish a certain goal, they don’t do what it takes to figure out how to accomplish that goal well. I become personally offended when they don’t do their job to the highest standard of excellence.
What do I do? Usually deride them. Yell at them a little. Question their character. Question their integrity and loyalty. Let them know that they’ve personally hurt me by doing a bad job.
I’m a jerk that way.
Well, I’m learning. I have been humbled. I have been completely broken by my own mistakes and my own treatment of other people. I have been personally grieved by the broken relationships I have caused. I know I expect way too much of people and have struggled to find out how to have the highest of standards in work/ministry and yet not expect too much from people. It almost seems contradictory.
I grew up in a family situation that discipled me to motivate others by making them feel bad. Seriously. That’s how my parents and older siblings motivated me. They would insult me for whatever I did that displeased them. I was hurt and was thus motivated to improve in order to protect myself from being hurt by them and to make them happy.
So when I became an adult this is how I attempted to motivate people, too. I would tell people to accomplish a particular goal and when they would go about it in ineffective ways I would question their judgment and intelligence. If they did it again, I would question their integrity. Great management skills, huh? Would love to work for a boss like me, right? Yeah, right.
I have completely started over now. I have read some books. I have listened to other people. I have tried to deal with my own issues and the relational “rut” I easily fall into by deriding those under me who displease me. I’m not perfect and not yet where I want to be. But I am learning. The transformation is underway; but it will take a while to complete.
One thing I’ve learned: Success is obtained not just by looking at the problems and obstacles and solving them. Success is obtained by looking at the goal, and continuing to look at it. The former is a focus on the negative. The latter is a focus on the positive. The former is a focus on a part of the present reality. The latter is a focus on a future reality.
I can do this. I know I can. I can do it right, too. I am filled with hope.
I suck at it.
Sorry for the language—I rarely speak like this, but there is no better word that can describe my abilities more precisely.
Whether trying to get things done through other people in business, or by directing them in ministry, I usually end up very disappointed, angry, disillusioned and hurt. The people who were under my management usually end up very disappointed, angry, disillusioned and hurt. In other words—my management style is hell on relationships.
Now, perhaps I’ve being a little hard on myself. I do have a few success stories over the years. But I think I have more disappointments. And one of my consistent feelings is, “Why don’t people do things better than they do? Why don’t they take more responsibility? Why don’t they see that this level of quality is still not enough?” I often am amazed that even though they agree to accomplish a certain goal, they don’t do what it takes to figure out how to accomplish that goal well. I become personally offended when they don’t do their job to the highest standard of excellence.
What do I do? Usually deride them. Yell at them a little. Question their character. Question their integrity and loyalty. Let them know that they’ve personally hurt me by doing a bad job.
I’m a jerk that way.
Well, I’m learning. I have been humbled. I have been completely broken by my own mistakes and my own treatment of other people. I have been personally grieved by the broken relationships I have caused. I know I expect way too much of people and have struggled to find out how to have the highest of standards in work/ministry and yet not expect too much from people. It almost seems contradictory.
I grew up in a family situation that discipled me to motivate others by making them feel bad. Seriously. That’s how my parents and older siblings motivated me. They would insult me for whatever I did that displeased them. I was hurt and was thus motivated to improve in order to protect myself from being hurt by them and to make them happy.
So when I became an adult this is how I attempted to motivate people, too. I would tell people to accomplish a particular goal and when they would go about it in ineffective ways I would question their judgment and intelligence. If they did it again, I would question their integrity. Great management skills, huh? Would love to work for a boss like me, right? Yeah, right.
I have completely started over now. I have read some books. I have listened to other people. I have tried to deal with my own issues and the relational “rut” I easily fall into by deriding those under me who displease me. I’m not perfect and not yet where I want to be. But I am learning. The transformation is underway; but it will take a while to complete.
One thing I’ve learned: Success is obtained not just by looking at the problems and obstacles and solving them. Success is obtained by looking at the goal, and continuing to look at it. The former is a focus on the negative. The latter is a focus on the positive. The former is a focus on a part of the present reality. The latter is a focus on a future reality.
I can do this. I know I can. I can do it right, too. I am filled with hope.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Impressed
If you work with small children you have undoubtedly had the experience where they do or show you something and you respond with, "Wow!"
Why do we do that? Is what the child did really that impressive? No, it is usually not. However, we want to show the child that we are impressed with them. Why? Because it makes them feel good--feel special--feel valuable.
Small children are too young to figure out that we are usually putting on a charade of being impressed. When we become adults we are offended by such pretense. However, that doesn't mean we don't still bask in the praise when we feel it is genuine.
Being "cool" is being impressive. A cool person is someone who impresses people in ways that people admire and aspire to be themselves. (I might impress you with my ability to juggle running chainsaws, but that still doesn't make me cool because chainsaw-juggling mastery is not a quality you would ever desire to attain.) In short, this is what a cool person is:
That's right--if you are going to be impressive, it means that you aren't all that impressed with many other people. Only a select few if any.
How "impressed" we are with another person usually indicates how we view them. They aren't the same thing, but they are related. If we have the ability to look at people who aren't impressive to anyone, and see something about which to be impressed, then we are far along the road to loving them.
Now, I know what you're thinking. If you have unconditional "agape" love then you don't need to be impressed by someone before you love them. True. But this can also become a dangerous road to arrogant pity, too, if we don't learn to see the intrinsic value in these "unimpressive people" by considering them better than ourselves. (Please read my post The Arrogance of Agape Love.)
What happens when we have a "cool" Christian preacher, church-planter, worship leader, author or missionary? It usually means that they aren't that impressed with other preachers, planters, leaders, writers or missionaries. It also usually means that they aren't very impressed with the people they're serving but are very interested in making people impressed with them. It usually means that while they would love to sign people up as their supporters or followers, they really don't think these people could do what they're doing half as well. And it shows.
I think it would do us well to take a look at the people around us. Are there people impressed with us? If so, is it because they are worshipping a talented-cool person? Or is it a reflection of the fact that we're impressed with them and they therefore feel valued by us and special in our eyes?
Which do you think is more transformational?
Why do we do that? Is what the child did really that impressive? No, it is usually not. However, we want to show the child that we are impressed with them. Why? Because it makes them feel good--feel special--feel valuable.
Small children are too young to figure out that we are usually putting on a charade of being impressed. When we become adults we are offended by such pretense. However, that doesn't mean we don't still bask in the praise when we feel it is genuine.
Being "cool" is being impressive. A cool person is someone who impresses people in ways that people admire and aspire to be themselves. (I might impress you with my ability to juggle running chainsaws, but that still doesn't make me cool because chainsaw-juggling mastery is not a quality you would ever desire to attain.) In short, this is what a cool person is:
- A cool person is someone who is usually good-looking. If they are not naturally good-looking, then they usually do something "stylish" with their hair, clothes or appearance.
- A cool person is someone who knows what's up. While they might not be the smartest person around, they certainly know about pop culture or what's going on in respect to the community of people they're a part of.
- A cool person is someone who other people love and want to be around. They usually have a crowd of people around them at most times, usually praising them.
- A cool person is someone who is funny. They know how to make people laugh.
That's right--if you are going to be impressive, it means that you aren't all that impressed with many other people. Only a select few if any.
How "impressed" we are with another person usually indicates how we view them. They aren't the same thing, but they are related. If we have the ability to look at people who aren't impressive to anyone, and see something about which to be impressed, then we are far along the road to loving them.
Now, I know what you're thinking. If you have unconditional "agape" love then you don't need to be impressed by someone before you love them. True. But this can also become a dangerous road to arrogant pity, too, if we don't learn to see the intrinsic value in these "unimpressive people" by considering them better than ourselves. (Please read my post The Arrogance of Agape Love.)
What happens when we have a "cool" Christian preacher, church-planter, worship leader, author or missionary? It usually means that they aren't that impressed with other preachers, planters, leaders, writers or missionaries. It also usually means that they aren't very impressed with the people they're serving but are very interested in making people impressed with them. It usually means that while they would love to sign people up as their supporters or followers, they really don't think these people could do what they're doing half as well. And it shows.
I think it would do us well to take a look at the people around us. Are there people impressed with us? If so, is it because they are worshipping a talented-cool person? Or is it a reflection of the fact that we're impressed with them and they therefore feel valued by us and special in our eyes?
Which do you think is more transformational?
Monday, April 27, 2009
Learning The Lingo #3: Social Contact
Languages are best learned by people from people.
Kind of sounds like a no-brainer, right? Well, many of us try to learn language without involving other people, for some reason. We buy books, tapes, videos, flash cards and other lesson materials. Those are all fine and good. But the biggest ingredient needed is social contact with native speakers of the language.
That’s right—social contact. I’m not just talking about learning from a language teacher. I’m talking about interacting with speakers of the language who are not trying to teach you a lesson, but are just having a conversation with you, trying to tell you a story or a joke, or just doing life together. One of my favorite quotes from the LAMP (Language Acquisition Made Practical) method people is the following:
“If you set out to learn a language you will possibly fail, but if you set out to have a deep relationship with people, you will learn their language.”
Kind of sounds like a no-brainer, right? Well, many of us try to learn language without involving other people, for some reason. We buy books, tapes, videos, flash cards and other lesson materials. Those are all fine and good. But the biggest ingredient needed is social contact with native speakers of the language.
That’s right—social contact. I’m not just talking about learning from a language teacher. I’m talking about interacting with speakers of the language who are not trying to teach you a lesson, but are just having a conversation with you, trying to tell you a story or a joke, or just doing life together. One of my favorite quotes from the LAMP (Language Acquisition Made Practical) method people is the following:
“If you set out to learn a language you will possibly fail, but if you set out to have a deep relationship with people, you will learn their language.”
-Thomas Brewster, Bonding and the Missionary Task
The point is that if we have the mere goal of learning a language—and if we subconsciously think we can do this without building friendships with any native speakers—chances are we will fail to speak it fluently or we will find it extremely difficult. However, if we make it our goal to form a friendship with at least one or several native speakers (preferably someone who speaks little or no English) then in the course of that process we will pick up a great deal of the language. Not only will we have the language learned, but we will have a good friend, too. So this approach is ideal for ministry, too.
Of course, if we see the people we’ve come to reach as simply “subjects” then we probably won’t want to build friendships with them. “We want to help them; not hang out with them!” If we are afraid of them and view them with suspicion, we probably won’t be allowing them to get too close to us or our children. If we fear giving up our lifestyles, eating their food and doing things with them that they enjoy, then we will probably only try to build friendships with those few who are brave enough to come into our big luxurious houses and eat our strange Western food—not too many, if any.
So, how we view people can end up being a big factor in how well we learn the language. That is because how we view the nationals will mostly determine how much social contact we have with them. How much social contact we have with them will greatly determine how much of the language we learn.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
The Ugly Missionary
There is a book I read a couple years back that was recommended to me by a missionary friend. He said this book should be required reading for all new missionary recruits. It is not about missionaries or ministry. It is not even a Christian book. What is it called? Maybe you've heard of it:
The Ugly American
It tells a "fictional" story about American involvement in Asia during the Vietnam war. While the narrative is fictional, it is made up of an amalgamation of true stories, actual personalities (names changed), and some of the real dynamics that existed during the war in Southeast Asia. It is one of those books that makes you angry as you read it when you see how inept and arrogant many of the American Foreign Service people were. And it is this very arrogance and ineptitude that led to failure in the region.
Why is this book appropriate for missionary recruits?
Because it describes the same attitudes and dynamics that make many missionaries ineffective, too.
I am not a perfect missionary. Far from it. I have made many cultural mistakes and have been confronted by my own ignorance and arrogance on multiple occasions. In fact, I don't think there is anything out there that challenges and stretches us more than extended cross-cultural living where we try to accomplish something in that context and have meaningful relationships with the people. And it is perhaps because of these challenges that many missionaries either fall into some certain well-worn ruts or circle the wagons and separate themselves from the community. And when these two things happen it can produce some pretty rancid ugliness.
I have considered writing a similar book and calling it The Ugly Missionary. This would detail (using "fictional" characters who actually exist) some of the dynamics of arrogance and ineptitude that I've witnessed in the missionary community. These are things that many who support missionaries back home never realize. And my purpose in writing would not be pride or to lift myself up as a good example. (Parts of the Ugly Missionary would be myself!) But my purpose would be to warn new missionary recruits of the pitfalls that face them and to educate supporters on what to look for in sending and pastoring the missionaries they choose.
A "missionary" is equivalent to "hero" or "big time spiritual stud" to many people who have never traveled overseas. It doesn't take many qualifications other than going to another country (the more different the better), knowing how to say a few words in the language (if you can tell people your language is "tonal" then they're really impressed), and being able to do the "secret handshake," or whatever the local greeting gesture is. People are mostly impressed because you are doing something they know they couldn't or wouldn't ever do. (And many of them will give you money because of it, too.)
But far too often we fall very short of being effective cross-cultural ambassadors of Christ who demonstrate a genuine love for the people we've come to reach. Far too often we fail to even come close to immersing ourselves in their communities. Instead, we become the Ugly Missionary who spends all of his time around other expats, only eats at foreign restaurants, lives in a gated mansion far removed from the nationals, prohibits his children from playing with the local kids, and only dabbles in the the language, food, and community.
For many missionaries the only contact they have with nationals are the ones they hire as maids, nightwatchmen or as English-speaking managers of their projects. For many, the only knowledge they have of the culture, country and people is what they have read in an English travel guide or heard from other expats. I have found this information to be quite unreliable here in The Location.
So, if you get a chance, pick up The Ugly American. Give it a read. Think about it in terms of ministry--wherever you are. Is it applicable?
The Ugly American
It tells a "fictional" story about American involvement in Asia during the Vietnam war. While the narrative is fictional, it is made up of an amalgamation of true stories, actual personalities (names changed), and some of the real dynamics that existed during the war in Southeast Asia. It is one of those books that makes you angry as you read it when you see how inept and arrogant many of the American Foreign Service people were. And it is this very arrogance and ineptitude that led to failure in the region.
Why is this book appropriate for missionary recruits?
Because it describes the same attitudes and dynamics that make many missionaries ineffective, too.
I am not a perfect missionary. Far from it. I have made many cultural mistakes and have been confronted by my own ignorance and arrogance on multiple occasions. In fact, I don't think there is anything out there that challenges and stretches us more than extended cross-cultural living where we try to accomplish something in that context and have meaningful relationships with the people. And it is perhaps because of these challenges that many missionaries either fall into some certain well-worn ruts or circle the wagons and separate themselves from the community. And when these two things happen it can produce some pretty rancid ugliness.
I have considered writing a similar book and calling it The Ugly Missionary. This would detail (using "fictional" characters who actually exist) some of the dynamics of arrogance and ineptitude that I've witnessed in the missionary community. These are things that many who support missionaries back home never realize. And my purpose in writing would not be pride or to lift myself up as a good example. (Parts of the Ugly Missionary would be myself!) But my purpose would be to warn new missionary recruits of the pitfalls that face them and to educate supporters on what to look for in sending and pastoring the missionaries they choose.
A "missionary" is equivalent to "hero" or "big time spiritual stud" to many people who have never traveled overseas. It doesn't take many qualifications other than going to another country (the more different the better), knowing how to say a few words in the language (if you can tell people your language is "tonal" then they're really impressed), and being able to do the "secret handshake," or whatever the local greeting gesture is. People are mostly impressed because you are doing something they know they couldn't or wouldn't ever do. (And many of them will give you money because of it, too.)
But far too often we fall very short of being effective cross-cultural ambassadors of Christ who demonstrate a genuine love for the people we've come to reach. Far too often we fail to even come close to immersing ourselves in their communities. Instead, we become the Ugly Missionary who spends all of his time around other expats, only eats at foreign restaurants, lives in a gated mansion far removed from the nationals, prohibits his children from playing with the local kids, and only dabbles in the the language, food, and community.
For many missionaries the only contact they have with nationals are the ones they hire as maids, nightwatchmen or as English-speaking managers of their projects. For many, the only knowledge they have of the culture, country and people is what they have read in an English travel guide or heard from other expats. I have found this information to be quite unreliable here in The Location.
So, if you get a chance, pick up The Ugly American. Give it a read. Think about it in terms of ministry--wherever you are. Is it applicable?
Monday, April 6, 2009
Klingons
Do you remember Klingons? No, not the race of warriors in Star Trek. I'm talking about people from our youth--you know--those people who would seem to "cling on" you if you showed them too much friendliness? Well, okay, maybe I was one of those Klingons. Actually, I confess, I was...
I remember trying to enter a particular group of friends from town who were some of the "cool kids." We were at the county fair together and they literally ran around different amusement park rides trying to get rid of me. I was a pretty fast runner and they couldn't shake me. It finally took one of the guys to come talk to me and tell me that they didn't want to be friends with me, so, Go away! True story.
Well, as the years passed by I wizened up a bit. Then came the girls.
Do you remember those girls who were so nice to you? You wondered, "Does she like me? Or, is she just nice to me because she's that way with everyone?" It was the latter. Always the latter; but it never seemed to kill the hope.
Some of the guys I knew who were very friendly had a problem. Over and over girls would get their hopes crushed because they thought this guy liked them. However, he was just being friendly. They took his friendliness for interest and had high hopes. Later when they found out he was just a friendly guy to everyone and had no specific interest in them, they were hurt.
Then, of course there were the girls I liked.
With me, it was a little different. When I was friendly to a girl I usually got a distinct "Go away!" vibe from her. My friendliness didn't spring hope in their hearts. Instead it generated fear. Fear that this strange "uncool" guy might like them. They wouldn't dare act friendly towards me in fear that it might cause me to hope for them. Being rude and generally disinterested usually did the job of letting me know that I didn't have a chance with those girls. So, I would go away. No need to be a Klingon anymore.
We humans are very good at sending non-verbal signals to people that have the same effect of hanging a sign on our cold shoulders that says, "No friendship available here! Go away!"
Much of this arises from a fear that if we are too nice to people (or to certain people) they will get clingy, we'll have to hang out with them and others will think we are like them (when we really view ourselves as being much above them).
Do you think Jesus struggled with this?
I have been writing a lot about how we view people because I have discovered that it is fundamental to how we treat them. And while many may think this is simply about personal Christian virtue, I have learned that it is all about effective ministry, too. And it is completely applicable to cross-cultural missions. How do we view The People?
I am sad to report that many missionaries I know (even right here in The Location) view the nationals as Klingons. "As soon as they get to know you they start asking for money, a motorcycle or a job." And so they subsequently send subconscious messages to the nationals that have the effect of saying, "No money here so don't even ask!" or, "I don't want to be your friend!" While some missionaries throw money around to draw a crowd of followers, others withhold any kind of interaction in fear of drawing people they don't understand and don't really want to get to know. In fact, this latter kind is even more common.
When I was a new Christian and first became interested in missions I was very impressed when I met a missionary. Now after serving on the field and seeing how so many missionaries never learn the language with any degree of fluency, never have any peer friendships with nationals beyond those they employ, rarely eat the local foods or visit nationals in their homes and instead spend most of their time with other expatriates, I have become more cautious in being impressed.
It is easy as a missionary to get caught up in the expat community where people "light-heartedly" complain about the nationals and their culture. It feeds a rather negative view of the people God has sent us to love and reach with his message. It also shows that we haven't come to understand them very well at all. And in the end, holding such a view of them will make us pretty ineffective in influencing them towards Christ.
I remember trying to enter a particular group of friends from town who were some of the "cool kids." We were at the county fair together and they literally ran around different amusement park rides trying to get rid of me. I was a pretty fast runner and they couldn't shake me. It finally took one of the guys to come talk to me and tell me that they didn't want to be friends with me, so, Go away! True story.
Well, as the years passed by I wizened up a bit. Then came the girls.
Do you remember those girls who were so nice to you? You wondered, "Does she like me? Or, is she just nice to me because she's that way with everyone?" It was the latter. Always the latter; but it never seemed to kill the hope.
Some of the guys I knew who were very friendly had a problem. Over and over girls would get their hopes crushed because they thought this guy liked them. However, he was just being friendly. They took his friendliness for interest and had high hopes. Later when they found out he was just a friendly guy to everyone and had no specific interest in them, they were hurt.
Then, of course there were the girls I liked.
With me, it was a little different. When I was friendly to a girl I usually got a distinct "Go away!" vibe from her. My friendliness didn't spring hope in their hearts. Instead it generated fear. Fear that this strange "uncool" guy might like them. They wouldn't dare act friendly towards me in fear that it might cause me to hope for them. Being rude and generally disinterested usually did the job of letting me know that I didn't have a chance with those girls. So, I would go away. No need to be a Klingon anymore.
We humans are very good at sending non-verbal signals to people that have the same effect of hanging a sign on our cold shoulders that says, "No friendship available here! Go away!"
Much of this arises from a fear that if we are too nice to people (or to certain people) they will get clingy, we'll have to hang out with them and others will think we are like them (when we really view ourselves as being much above them).
Do you think Jesus struggled with this?
I have been writing a lot about how we view people because I have discovered that it is fundamental to how we treat them. And while many may think this is simply about personal Christian virtue, I have learned that it is all about effective ministry, too. And it is completely applicable to cross-cultural missions. How do we view The People?
I am sad to report that many missionaries I know (even right here in The Location) view the nationals as Klingons. "As soon as they get to know you they start asking for money, a motorcycle or a job." And so they subsequently send subconscious messages to the nationals that have the effect of saying, "No money here so don't even ask!" or, "I don't want to be your friend!" While some missionaries throw money around to draw a crowd of followers, others withhold any kind of interaction in fear of drawing people they don't understand and don't really want to get to know. In fact, this latter kind is even more common.
When I was a new Christian and first became interested in missions I was very impressed when I met a missionary. Now after serving on the field and seeing how so many missionaries never learn the language with any degree of fluency, never have any peer friendships with nationals beyond those they employ, rarely eat the local foods or visit nationals in their homes and instead spend most of their time with other expatriates, I have become more cautious in being impressed.
It is easy as a missionary to get caught up in the expat community where people "light-heartedly" complain about the nationals and their culture. It feeds a rather negative view of the people God has sent us to love and reach with his message. It also shows that we haven't come to understand them very well at all. And in the end, holding such a view of them will make us pretty ineffective in influencing them towards Christ.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Love and Like
“I love you; I just don’t like you.”
When I was young I heard these words from other children at different times. Only children are honest and brave enough to say such words to your face. As adults we learn to control the expression of our inner thoughts and feelings. However, as adults we still feel like this toward people. At least, this is what we say to ourselves and perhaps even to other people who share our dislike for another person. “Just because I love him doesn’t mean I have to like him,” we assure ourselves.
I have to be honest. I meet some people I don’t like. It could be things about them that are different. Sometimes I find myself disliking someone when I see that their views and opinions oppose mine. Other times I dislike people when I see them celebrating immorality. And sometimes I don’t like people just because I am jealous of them—they are better looking, more talented or more popular and they know it. I tend to dislike people universally who portray themselves in an arrogant way or who are very aware of how “cool” they think they are. I’m not saying I am right to dislike these people, but I am trying to be honest with you.
I have discovered something about people I don’t like. Almost always, I would say 99.99% of the time, when I don’t like someone it is for one of two reasons: 1) I feel inferior in their presence and they say or do nothing to make me feel less inferior, or, 2) I perceive that they don’t like me or that they look down on me.
The first reason is simply the feeling of “I don’t measure up.” When I feel like this around people, it can be overcome by their friendliness. That is, if people I know I don’t measure up to (in education, in wealth, in looks, in popularity, etc.) show me that they really like me, then I will not be intimidated by them and will begin to like them. If they are neutral towards me, then I am in danger of projecting. I project onto them the idea that they look down on me because I am not as educated; or because I am not as wealthy; or because I don’t enjoy the same kind of “cultured” lifestyle. I assume that they look down upon me even though they have done nothing to actually indicate this. In reality I am looking down on myself when I compare myself to them. I dislike myself for the fact that I do not “measure up” to them. I suppose without any evidence that I would not be accepted into their circles.
The second and more typical reason I find myself disliking people is when I perceive that they don’t like me or that they look down on me. It is difficult to like someone who doesn’t like you. It is really difficult to like someone who seems to purposely offend you, insult you, or make you feel stupid. So, I usually don’t like people who don’t treat me very well and don’t show respect.
So, what about liking versus loving people? Jesus commanded us to “love one another.” He didn’t say, “Like one another.” But these very much depend on how we understand “like” and “love.”
Traditionally, we understand that to love someone we wish them no ill-will (don’t want to see them suffer or die) and we do nice things for them in spite of themselves. When we like someone, basically it means we want to hang out with them and be around them. We want to become their friends. That’s what the children were saying to me when they said, “I love you; I just don’t like you.” They were saying, “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, but I don’t want to be your friend. I hope things go well for you, but I don’t want to hang out with you.”
Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13) He also said, “I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.” Jesus associated love with friendship, and friendship with letting people in. We know from Jesus’ example that he spent time with people. The power of his presence was found in the fact that he accepted people others didn’t like. He spent time with them. He let them in.
Much has been said to explain the different Greek words for “love.” We say that agape love is the highest and most Christ-like of the different “loves.” And this is the word we typically translate “love.” Eros love, on the other hand, is often described as “selfish love" (which I believe is an incorrect understanding). Instead of calling this eros, I would call it conditional love. It is loving people for being lovable.
In reality, what we often call “love” (I hope you don’t die, and here’s a sandwich) is not much more than a mere gesture. Furthermore, what we call “like” is better described as that conditional love—we like those who like us back, and we therefore let them into our lives calling them our “friends.” However, Jesus’ example of agape love might better be described as unconditionally liking people. Could you intentionally like someone who doesn’t like you?
I was once at a Christian conference attended by people I mostly did not know. I only really knew one person who invited me to the meeting. As I sat and listened a woman went forward to the microphone to share something on her heart. The tone of her voice sounded a bit whiny to me and the things she said gave me the impression that people in the room weren’t being spiritual enough for her. She didn’t say that. That was just my impression. So, in my heart, I disliked this woman.
When the meeting was over I discovered that this very woman was close friends to the person who invited me to the conference. So I was introduced by my friend with some undeserved compliments. This woman smiled really big and seemed to like me from the very first moment I met her. I subconsciously thought that this “like” wouldn’t last long once we talked and got to know each other more. But as I saw this woman more and more over the next few years she continued to show a sincere interest in me and often invited me to eat dinner with her husband and family. I still don’t know why this woman likes me. But I discovered that I stopped disliking her. In fact, I would call her a good friend.
I have discovered that liking people is a very powerful thing. People don’t want to be loved. People want to be liked. We want for others to be interested in us. We want them to want to be around us. We want them to call us “friend.” We want to be liked. Because, when it comes right down to it, liking people is really loving people the way Jesus loved people.
I have also discovered that people don’t like me for the same reasons I don’t like them. People don’t like me when they perceive that I don’t like them. Things we do that indicate to people that we don’t like them make them not like us. So I am learning to respond differently when I perceive people don’t like me. I think, “Did I in some way show them I didn’t like them or looked down upon them?” And I try to treat them in ways that do not communicate dislike or disdain. More than anything, that is showing them that I see their value and that I want to spend time with them. This may be difficult to do, and at times impossible if the person persists in their dislike. But sometimes it is enough to turn a heart around.
God help me, for my heart is more bent on hate than on truly loving the unlikeable.
When I was young I heard these words from other children at different times. Only children are honest and brave enough to say such words to your face. As adults we learn to control the expression of our inner thoughts and feelings. However, as adults we still feel like this toward people. At least, this is what we say to ourselves and perhaps even to other people who share our dislike for another person. “Just because I love him doesn’t mean I have to like him,” we assure ourselves.
I have to be honest. I meet some people I don’t like. It could be things about them that are different. Sometimes I find myself disliking someone when I see that their views and opinions oppose mine. Other times I dislike people when I see them celebrating immorality. And sometimes I don’t like people just because I am jealous of them—they are better looking, more talented or more popular and they know it. I tend to dislike people universally who portray themselves in an arrogant way or who are very aware of how “cool” they think they are. I’m not saying I am right to dislike these people, but I am trying to be honest with you.
I have discovered something about people I don’t like. Almost always, I would say 99.99% of the time, when I don’t like someone it is for one of two reasons: 1) I feel inferior in their presence and they say or do nothing to make me feel less inferior, or, 2) I perceive that they don’t like me or that they look down on me.
The first reason is simply the feeling of “I don’t measure up.” When I feel like this around people, it can be overcome by their friendliness. That is, if people I know I don’t measure up to (in education, in wealth, in looks, in popularity, etc.) show me that they really like me, then I will not be intimidated by them and will begin to like them. If they are neutral towards me, then I am in danger of projecting. I project onto them the idea that they look down on me because I am not as educated; or because I am not as wealthy; or because I don’t enjoy the same kind of “cultured” lifestyle. I assume that they look down upon me even though they have done nothing to actually indicate this. In reality I am looking down on myself when I compare myself to them. I dislike myself for the fact that I do not “measure up” to them. I suppose without any evidence that I would not be accepted into their circles.
The second and more typical reason I find myself disliking people is when I perceive that they don’t like me or that they look down on me. It is difficult to like someone who doesn’t like you. It is really difficult to like someone who seems to purposely offend you, insult you, or make you feel stupid. So, I usually don’t like people who don’t treat me very well and don’t show respect.
So, what about liking versus loving people? Jesus commanded us to “love one another.” He didn’t say, “Like one another.” But these very much depend on how we understand “like” and “love.”
Traditionally, we understand that to love someone we wish them no ill-will (don’t want to see them suffer or die) and we do nice things for them in spite of themselves. When we like someone, basically it means we want to hang out with them and be around them. We want to become their friends. That’s what the children were saying to me when they said, “I love you; I just don’t like you.” They were saying, “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, but I don’t want to be your friend. I hope things go well for you, but I don’t want to hang out with you.”
Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13) He also said, “I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.” Jesus associated love with friendship, and friendship with letting people in. We know from Jesus’ example that he spent time with people. The power of his presence was found in the fact that he accepted people others didn’t like. He spent time with them. He let them in.
Much has been said to explain the different Greek words for “love.” We say that agape love is the highest and most Christ-like of the different “loves.” And this is the word we typically translate “love.” Eros love, on the other hand, is often described as “selfish love" (which I believe is an incorrect understanding). Instead of calling this eros, I would call it conditional love. It is loving people for being lovable.
In reality, what we often call “love” (I hope you don’t die, and here’s a sandwich) is not much more than a mere gesture. Furthermore, what we call “like” is better described as that conditional love—we like those who like us back, and we therefore let them into our lives calling them our “friends.” However, Jesus’ example of agape love might better be described as unconditionally liking people. Could you intentionally like someone who doesn’t like you?
I was once at a Christian conference attended by people I mostly did not know. I only really knew one person who invited me to the meeting. As I sat and listened a woman went forward to the microphone to share something on her heart. The tone of her voice sounded a bit whiny to me and the things she said gave me the impression that people in the room weren’t being spiritual enough for her. She didn’t say that. That was just my impression. So, in my heart, I disliked this woman.
When the meeting was over I discovered that this very woman was close friends to the person who invited me to the conference. So I was introduced by my friend with some undeserved compliments. This woman smiled really big and seemed to like me from the very first moment I met her. I subconsciously thought that this “like” wouldn’t last long once we talked and got to know each other more. But as I saw this woman more and more over the next few years she continued to show a sincere interest in me and often invited me to eat dinner with her husband and family. I still don’t know why this woman likes me. But I discovered that I stopped disliking her. In fact, I would call her a good friend.
I have discovered that liking people is a very powerful thing. People don’t want to be loved. People want to be liked. We want for others to be interested in us. We want them to want to be around us. We want them to call us “friend.” We want to be liked. Because, when it comes right down to it, liking people is really loving people the way Jesus loved people.
I have also discovered that people don’t like me for the same reasons I don’t like them. People don’t like me when they perceive that I don’t like them. Things we do that indicate to people that we don’t like them make them not like us. So I am learning to respond differently when I perceive people don’t like me. I think, “Did I in some way show them I didn’t like them or looked down upon them?” And I try to treat them in ways that do not communicate dislike or disdain. More than anything, that is showing them that I see their value and that I want to spend time with them. This may be difficult to do, and at times impossible if the person persists in their dislike. But sometimes it is enough to turn a heart around.
God help me, for my heart is more bent on hate than on truly loving the unlikeable.
Friday, April 3, 2009
The Arrogance of Agape Love
I don’t care if you love me if you still think I’m a chump.
I became a Christian as a freshman in college. And I’ll tell you, my major issue was feeling like I was a “chump” in the eyes of so many other people and, I feared, in the eyes of God. When I first got a sniff of the idea that there is a God and that he values me and loves me—that was an amazing feeling. It was completely foreign to me and tantalizingly transformational. I became “addicted to love”—agape love, that is.
Agape love was a term I learned fairly quickly in the Christian community. Agape is one of the Greek words for love, and it is the word Jesus used when he told us to “love one another” in John 15:12. We distinguish it from phileo (brotherly) love and most certainly from eros (erotic) love. So, even though Robert Palmer sang about being addicted to eros in the mid 80’s, we Christians would love to talk about the “holier” form of love: agape.
Agape love was good stuff. After all, it was unselfish love. It was love offered unconditionally. It was love that was offered with no strings attached. I can’t tell you how many sermons I have heard where we talk about how eros is “I love you if…”, phileo is “I love you because…”, and agape is “I love you regardless…”
Agape love was presented as the purest form of love because it was completely unselfish and unconditional. I didn’t love you in order to get anything from you (or in response to getting anything from you) and I didn’t love you because you somehow deserved my love. Agape love, the highest form of love, is what would motivate us to feed the hungry, preach the gospel to the poor, clothe the naked, encourage the depressed and otherwise love the unlovely.
So how could agape love be arrogant? After all, it is not self-seeking but unconditional. Who could be opposed to agape love?
Here is one of those ruts we often fall into as Christians. For example, the Bible teaches us to be humble, right? Yes. And it also teaches us not to be arrogant or prideful, right? That is correct. So what happens when I see you being arrogant and I am being humble? What if I see everyone else being arrogant, save myself? Will I stand up and announce to the group, “All of you are so arrogant! No one is as humble as me! Can’t you see how humble I am? I know I am so much better than all of you because I am so much more humble!” Wait, wait, wait… that doesn’t sound like humility at all! It might have honestly started out that way, but we just became rather prideful about how humble we are being.
This is what happens to so many of us Christians. We know the right way to be, and after we change to become that, we then become arrogant about the fact. Just like Al Pacino’s character in The Devil’s Advocate (Satan)—in the end he was able to get Keanu Reeve’s character to stumble for being prideful about doing the right thing. He says, “Vanity—it’s my favorite sin.”
This same dynamic occurs when we try to elevate agape love over other forms of love, implying that phileo and eros are somehow unholy. The truth is that Jesus also talked about phileo love and not in a negative sense. It is good and right for us to have phileo love towards others, as well as agape. And if eros is erotic love, what is unholy about sharing erotic love with my wife? In one way, eros becomes even more special as I share that only with her and agape I can share with anyone and everyone.
I do believe that agape love is special. There is, in fact, nothing more Christ-like than to offer unselfish love to another human being. Jesus’ greatest command was to love God and to love our neighbor. So how can agape love be arrogant?
Well, the arrogance isn’t in the agape love; it is in the people who think they are offering it. We define agape love as loving people regardless. Regardless of what? Regardless of the fact that they are undeserving, uneducated, unkempt, unbathed, unrepentant, under privileged, or downright unholy. We think (and sometimes say), “Even though you are a dirty rotten scoundrel, I give you this sandwich in Jesus’ name.” Then we congratulate ourselves in our hearts for being so godly in displaying agape love. Certainly that guy was undeserving. But we gave him that sandwich anyway!
Let me ask you—if you were the recipient of that sandwich, how would you feel? (That might just depend on how hungry you are.)
Many non-Christians resent the charity of Christians for two reasons. One is that it often has strings attached: “Can I give you this _____ in hopes that you will come to my church?” The second is the perceived message Christians are sending: “This ______ is given to you to let you know how much better I am than you by giving this to you.” Now it is not wrong to want people to come to church, but non-Christians often see that as an ulterior motive--that you don't really love them; you just want to grow your club.
When I was a new Christian I heard the slogan, “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.”
I was really excited by that truth. The idea is that if I try to tell someone about Jesus—just give them a message but not really love them—then they will likely reject the message. But if I can show them that I really care about them, then they might be interested in the message I have to share. This is an important truth. And real agape love is in the realm of “really caring” about someone.
If we come to someone with the attitude that we think very lowly of them, then it taints everything we do to/for them—even the “love” we offer them. We don’t have any respect for them, but we do something nice for them. Can we say, then, that we “really care” for them?
“I don’t care if you love me if you still think I’m a chump. It would mean a lot more to me if you showed me some respect. It would mean a lot more to me if you valued who I am. What good is your 'love' for me if you have such a low opinion of me? How much is your 'love' going to affect me if you just don’t think I’m anything special? I would rather you ask me for something because you thought I had something to offer than to offer me something that you think I lack. I don’t care if you love me if you still think I’m a chump. You can keep your sandwich.”
The most powerful thing we can do to another person is think about them one way or another. If I think someone is an idiot, that person will soon get the sense of it if they spend enough time around me. If I am impressed with someone they will soon be able to tell. My disdain for others will drive people away. The admiration I show will draw them in.
So what happens when we show unconditional agape love to someone we disdain? (Even though I disdain you, I still love you.) Which will influence them more—the “love” we show them by whatever nice thing we are doing for them, or the disdain we feel toward them? If there is enough exposure, the disdain will overtake the “love.” They will not be impressed by the nice thing we have done if they learn of the low opinion we have of them. Our actions will not be seen as love, but as pity. And that is what a lot of the agape love we practice is—pity. Implicit is the message, “I’m more impressed with myself for doing this for you in spite of the idiot you are.”
No one gives to beggars because they think they will get anything in return. Even so, the offerings made to beggars are often not motivated by such unselfish love but by a desire for the beggar to quickly go away. So even though we have given “unselfishly” in that we don’t expect to be given anything in return, our “love” is not so impressive when the last thing we would want is a relationship with the recipient.
True agape love requires that we change how we think about those we offer it to. We might love people in spite of them not loving us, or in spite of their sin or other ugliness, but we must still learn to value them. If there is no value in our opinion of them then it negates whatever nice thing we might do for them.
Look what Paul said in Philippians 2:3:
“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.”
Our agape love may be unconditional, but is it to the point that we consider others better than ourselves? Would we dare do that to a beggar? Would we dare consider a “wannabe” better than ourselves? Could we possibly extend such respect to someone who has repeatedly made bad choices in their lives and have suffered the consequences and consider them better than us? Or does knowing that it just isn’t true keep us from thinking of them in such a high manner? If so, therein lies our problem.
I don’t care if you love me if you still think I’m a chump.
I became a Christian as a freshman in college. And I’ll tell you, my major issue was feeling like I was a “chump” in the eyes of so many other people and, I feared, in the eyes of God. When I first got a sniff of the idea that there is a God and that he values me and loves me—that was an amazing feeling. It was completely foreign to me and tantalizingly transformational. I became “addicted to love”—agape love, that is.
Agape love was a term I learned fairly quickly in the Christian community. Agape is one of the Greek words for love, and it is the word Jesus used when he told us to “love one another” in John 15:12. We distinguish it from phileo (brotherly) love and most certainly from eros (erotic) love. So, even though Robert Palmer sang about being addicted to eros in the mid 80’s, we Christians would love to talk about the “holier” form of love: agape.
Agape love was good stuff. After all, it was unselfish love. It was love offered unconditionally. It was love that was offered with no strings attached. I can’t tell you how many sermons I have heard where we talk about how eros is “I love you if…”, phileo is “I love you because…”, and agape is “I love you regardless…”
Agape love was presented as the purest form of love because it was completely unselfish and unconditional. I didn’t love you in order to get anything from you (or in response to getting anything from you) and I didn’t love you because you somehow deserved my love. Agape love, the highest form of love, is what would motivate us to feed the hungry, preach the gospel to the poor, clothe the naked, encourage the depressed and otherwise love the unlovely.
So how could agape love be arrogant? After all, it is not self-seeking but unconditional. Who could be opposed to agape love?
Here is one of those ruts we often fall into as Christians. For example, the Bible teaches us to be humble, right? Yes. And it also teaches us not to be arrogant or prideful, right? That is correct. So what happens when I see you being arrogant and I am being humble? What if I see everyone else being arrogant, save myself? Will I stand up and announce to the group, “All of you are so arrogant! No one is as humble as me! Can’t you see how humble I am? I know I am so much better than all of you because I am so much more humble!” Wait, wait, wait… that doesn’t sound like humility at all! It might have honestly started out that way, but we just became rather prideful about how humble we are being.
This is what happens to so many of us Christians. We know the right way to be, and after we change to become that, we then become arrogant about the fact. Just like Al Pacino’s character in The Devil’s Advocate (Satan)—in the end he was able to get Keanu Reeve’s character to stumble for being prideful about doing the right thing. He says, “Vanity—it’s my favorite sin.”
This same dynamic occurs when we try to elevate agape love over other forms of love, implying that phileo and eros are somehow unholy. The truth is that Jesus also talked about phileo love and not in a negative sense. It is good and right for us to have phileo love towards others, as well as agape. And if eros is erotic love, what is unholy about sharing erotic love with my wife? In one way, eros becomes even more special as I share that only with her and agape I can share with anyone and everyone.
I do believe that agape love is special. There is, in fact, nothing more Christ-like than to offer unselfish love to another human being. Jesus’ greatest command was to love God and to love our neighbor. So how can agape love be arrogant?
Well, the arrogance isn’t in the agape love; it is in the people who think they are offering it. We define agape love as loving people regardless. Regardless of what? Regardless of the fact that they are undeserving, uneducated, unkempt, unbathed, unrepentant, under privileged, or downright unholy. We think (and sometimes say), “Even though you are a dirty rotten scoundrel, I give you this sandwich in Jesus’ name.” Then we congratulate ourselves in our hearts for being so godly in displaying agape love. Certainly that guy was undeserving. But we gave him that sandwich anyway!
Let me ask you—if you were the recipient of that sandwich, how would you feel? (That might just depend on how hungry you are.)
Many non-Christians resent the charity of Christians for two reasons. One is that it often has strings attached: “Can I give you this _____ in hopes that you will come to my church?” The second is the perceived message Christians are sending: “This ______ is given to you to let you know how much better I am than you by giving this to you.” Now it is not wrong to want people to come to church, but non-Christians often see that as an ulterior motive--that you don't really love them; you just want to grow your club.
When I was a new Christian I heard the slogan, “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.”
I was really excited by that truth. The idea is that if I try to tell someone about Jesus—just give them a message but not really love them—then they will likely reject the message. But if I can show them that I really care about them, then they might be interested in the message I have to share. This is an important truth. And real agape love is in the realm of “really caring” about someone.
If we come to someone with the attitude that we think very lowly of them, then it taints everything we do to/for them—even the “love” we offer them. We don’t have any respect for them, but we do something nice for them. Can we say, then, that we “really care” for them?
“I don’t care if you love me if you still think I’m a chump. It would mean a lot more to me if you showed me some respect. It would mean a lot more to me if you valued who I am. What good is your 'love' for me if you have such a low opinion of me? How much is your 'love' going to affect me if you just don’t think I’m anything special? I would rather you ask me for something because you thought I had something to offer than to offer me something that you think I lack. I don’t care if you love me if you still think I’m a chump. You can keep your sandwich.”
The most powerful thing we can do to another person is think about them one way or another. If I think someone is an idiot, that person will soon get the sense of it if they spend enough time around me. If I am impressed with someone they will soon be able to tell. My disdain for others will drive people away. The admiration I show will draw them in.
So what happens when we show unconditional agape love to someone we disdain? (Even though I disdain you, I still love you.) Which will influence them more—the “love” we show them by whatever nice thing we are doing for them, or the disdain we feel toward them? If there is enough exposure, the disdain will overtake the “love.” They will not be impressed by the nice thing we have done if they learn of the low opinion we have of them. Our actions will not be seen as love, but as pity. And that is what a lot of the agape love we practice is—pity. Implicit is the message, “I’m more impressed with myself for doing this for you in spite of the idiot you are.”
No one gives to beggars because they think they will get anything in return. Even so, the offerings made to beggars are often not motivated by such unselfish love but by a desire for the beggar to quickly go away. So even though we have given “unselfishly” in that we don’t expect to be given anything in return, our “love” is not so impressive when the last thing we would want is a relationship with the recipient.
True agape love requires that we change how we think about those we offer it to. We might love people in spite of them not loving us, or in spite of their sin or other ugliness, but we must still learn to value them. If there is no value in our opinion of them then it negates whatever nice thing we might do for them.
Look what Paul said in Philippians 2:3:
“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.”
Our agape love may be unconditional, but is it to the point that we consider others better than ourselves? Would we dare do that to a beggar? Would we dare consider a “wannabe” better than ourselves? Could we possibly extend such respect to someone who has repeatedly made bad choices in their lives and have suffered the consequences and consider them better than us? Or does knowing that it just isn’t true keep us from thinking of them in such a high manner? If so, therein lies our problem.
I don’t care if you love me if you still think I’m a chump.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Good and Good
Did you know that the word “good” in English has two meanings? (Well, maybe more if you look at one of those huge dictionaries with etymology and all that.) But in our everyday language we use “good” in two different ways without realizing it. Here they are:
- Good—Righteous, holy, decent, morally right.
- Good—Valuable, desirable, worthy.
When we are looking for shells on the beach and we find one that is big, beautiful and unbroken we say we found a good one. That is Good #2—valuable, desirable, worthy. We could sell it and get a better price for it than if it were small, broken or ugly. But it is not a moral judgment at all—the shell is neither morally right nor wrong. It is not something that is holy or righteous. In fact, when we talk about things we buy and sell we call them goods. They are things with value.
A basketball player makes 80% of his shots from the field and never misses a free-throw. He can run around anyone, jump higher and shut down the opposing team’s offense. We say he is a good player. The team may pay him millions of dollars more than less talented players. If they trade him, they might get two or three other players in return. This is Good #2. The player is valuable to a team wanting to win basketball games.
So, here is the million-dollar question: Are we good? Does the Bible teach us that man is good or bad? What view of man does Christianity hold? If we say man is basically good then are we somehow justifying sin or lessening the need for repentance? If we say that man is basically bad are we then saying that God doesn’t like people very much unless they shape up? So, what are we? Good or bad?
Jesus said that no one is good but God. (Mark 10:18 ) But he also said that we are worth more in God’s sight than many sparrows. (Luke 12:7 )
So, I think the answer is that we are not Good #1 but that we are Good #2. We are not naturally righteous but have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. But we are very valuable in the eyes of God. So much so that Jesus died on the cross to save us from being Bad #1.
The problem is that we often send a mixed message. We confuse people because of the duplicity of the word good. We subconsciously feel that the message, “God loves you,” and, “You’re a sinner and need to repent,” are contradictory. One says I am good, the other says I am bad and need to change. So, until I’ve changed, I’m no good! How could God love me?
But here’s the secret: God wants us to change, for sure. But changing by itself doesn’t make up for not being good as in righteous and holy. God loves us because we are valuable to him, even when we haven’t yet changed. God’s love isn’t based upon our holiness but upon our being.
But then here’s the other question… What if I’m like that small, broken and ugly shell on the beach? Then I am not worthy because I am ugly and my heart is broken? What if I can’t play basketball very well and miss 80% of my shots? Well, it may sound harsh, but to an unredeemed world—that’s right—you are not valuable to them. They don’t want to talk with you if you are not pretty, if you are not smart, if you are not talented, if you are not rich. It is true. But that is NOT how God counts value.
So how does God count value? Basically, he loves those he has created. You know this has to be true. If you have children do you only love the ones who are more talented than the others? No, you’re going to love all your children as different as they are. But even if you did have a favorite child, God does not. He loves everyone he created.
What does this have to do with missions or ministry?
I think one of the first steps we must take in reaching out to others is to look at them how God looks at them. We may see a wicked person, and they are certainly not good in terms of righteousness or holiness, but they are good in terms of value to God. We tend to see wickedness, ugliness, brokenness and think “bad.” God sees his child and someone he wants to come back home.
So how do you see them?
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