My beloved Yankees have a problem: They suck.
Mired in fourth place in their division, six games below .500 (which is not good, in case you don’t follow win-loss records), and recipients of boos and catcalls from the hometown fans, the Bronx Bombers this season have done little well, and that which they have done well, they have not done consistently. They’re a team with a payroll perhaps three times the average of all other Major League Baseball franchises, but with a performance level that would be hard-pressed to win a seed in the NCCA’s College World Series.
I moan about my team’s horrors in order to applaud its response to them.
* The general manager says, From ownership I asked for and received complete control of the team. We’re not producing, so it’s on me.
* The manager says, Don’t blame the general manager only. He and I put this team together. I accept as much responsibility as anyone.
* Players say, Don’t blame the manager or the front office. We’re the ones on the field. We’re the people swinging and missing, pitching and giving up runs.
* The owner, George Steinbrenner, says, The players, manager, and general manager are all correct; blame them.... Oh well, can’t have everything.
While I am frustrated with my team’s performance, I admire their implementation of accountability, their willingness to accept responsibility for their actions. To be accountable doesn’t mean being a sacrificial lamb, but it does mean owning your place and its consequences in the world, it means you recognize that what you do and say matters. The Yanks are doing that...and precious little else.
Accountability is a challenge in our society. It’s hard to get people to accept responsibility for their actions when prevailing social standards permit and expect dismissal of failures as a products of bad childhoods, physical disrepair, or other personal trauma. It’s not that outside agents don’t affect us, but rather that we lose core independence and individuality when we cede final say over to them. An accountable life acknowledges but also owns its contributing influences; an unaccountable life surrenders to them.
What does an accountable Christian life look like? Spiritual honesty enforced by practical action. When’s the last time you did a thorough spiritual audit? When’s the last time you examined your heart, your relationship with God, your connection to Jesus, with something resembling objective dispassion? When’s the last time you accounted for all aspects of your spiritual life, both healthy and unhealthy?
Make it harder: When’s the last time you made such an accounting to another person? Perhaps your significant other, but just as acceptable, to a spiritual friend? When’s the last time you acknowledged to another person the failures (and successes) of your faith walk?
Our general board has created an accountability group, people who have agreed to make changes in their actions in and attitudes about our congregation. We meet monthly to ask each other a simple question: You said you were going to (whatever). How are you doing with that? Because we know each other well, the question produces honest, if at times uncomfortable, disclosures. An accountable Christian life requires spiritual honesty, which is much more likely if we have one or more accountability partners.
Such mechanics are important, but what matters more than anything is a confessional heart, a decision to accept responsibility for our lives. Are you there yet? When you survey the terrain of your life, do you see destruction of your own creation, or rather the ravages of invading marauders? Do you see damage you can repair, because you’re the one who inflicted it? Or brokenness you can only mourn, not mend?
Personally, I probably talk a better brand of accountability than I live. Though I am moving in the right direction, I suspect there are many wounds in my life for which I have blamed mere accessories, when in fact I was the principal culprit. In the couple of weeks I of vacation that began for me today, I expect to take a pretty intense personal inventory.
I started this piece talking about my beloved Yankees. I close talking about my own journey. Substitute your own team/interest and your personal story, then when you discover something, tell somebody.
You and I have a lot to account for.
Pray with me:
God, hold me close, but also hold me responsible. Don’t let me excuse myself, but also don’t let me harass myself. Lead me to relationships of consequence, relationships of honesty and accountability. Let me be for someone else the honest, gracious, Jesus-like source of truth and hope that I myself seek. In the name of Jesus I pray, Amen.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
On the Dotted (and Disappearing) Line
I discovered the other day yet another reason I will never be president of the United States: I can’t sign my name the same way twice.
Presidents have to be able to do that, don’t they? To communicate continuity and consistency in their administration. To assure the world that though all hell may break loose, it can count on at least the president’s signature (if not his or her policies!) to remain constant.
Imagine the confusion were we familiar with two or three other John Hancocks from... John Hancock. We have come to rely on the flair, panache, and elegance with which he identified himself on paper. When we see his signature, we know instantly who he is and why he matters. Consistent. Predictable.
Presidents need those virtues. Whether for legislation renaming little-used highways, or bills authorizing government spending for the next fiscal year, an expected and identifiable signature reflects stability and congruity... which I can’t offer.
We’re sending out a letter to our congregation next week. My task was simply to add a “Bill” to the bottom of each copy. With each passing page, I grew increasingly amused and entertained by my inability to produce consecutive identical signatures. Okay, that’s an unrealistic standard, I suppose, but I couldn’t even produce pages that were each arguably “Bill”! It became a game to see whether any two of the signatures bore sufficient similarity to convince an independent observer that the same person had signed each.
So, I don’t expect to become president.... Well, I suppose I could become president, then allow someone else to sign for me, or use digital techniques to implant identical images on the required paperwork – that is, I could fake it – but that doesn’t sound very presidential.
This signature silliness got me to thinking about the consistency of my faith life, whether on any two consecutive occasions (or, more generously, any two consecutive days) I demonstrate anything close to a consistent image of the Jesus I claim. Am I able/willing to be as much a vessel for his presence today as I was yesterday, or last month, or whenever I last was able/willing to do so? Or is my faithfulness as unpredictable as my signature? Are there days when it’s not at all clear to an objective observer that I have any lord other than myself?
Of course, I could say I'm a Christian, but then fake it - allow others to cover for me, to excuse and accept my failings - but that doesn't seem very Jesus-like.
No, I have to face this. If in my world, signature inconsistency bars me from presidential consideration, what is the result of unpredictable faithfulness?
Each of us has to answer for ourselves, of course, but I will tell you what I have figured out: Grace may be defined as “unmerited favor,” but in light of my spiritual weaknesses, grace is more practically defined as the guarantee of a known, pre-approved co-signer on my life’s paperwork. Even when I don’t qualify as the follower I claim to be, grace vouches for me, and initials the slip extending God’s contract. Without grace, left to the limitations of my own ways, my worries would be far greater than a foiled presidential bid.
When you have a moment, think back on your life. How does your life’s signature in today’s calm (or tempest), compare with that from last year’s storm (or contentment)? Do you need grace, too?
Pray with me:
The hymn lyrics are “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,” God. I say, amazing grace, how sweet the look, for even in my most distracted, depleted, or disinterested states, you restore me, you make my heart look like Jesus again. May I never tire of singing or pursuing your grace. In the name of Jesus, Amen.
Presidents have to be able to do that, don’t they? To communicate continuity and consistency in their administration. To assure the world that though all hell may break loose, it can count on at least the president’s signature (if not his or her policies!) to remain constant.
Imagine the confusion were we familiar with two or three other John Hancocks from... John Hancock. We have come to rely on the flair, panache, and elegance with which he identified himself on paper. When we see his signature, we know instantly who he is and why he matters. Consistent. Predictable.
Presidents need those virtues. Whether for legislation renaming little-used highways, or bills authorizing government spending for the next fiscal year, an expected and identifiable signature reflects stability and congruity... which I can’t offer.
We’re sending out a letter to our congregation next week. My task was simply to add a “Bill” to the bottom of each copy. With each passing page, I grew increasingly amused and entertained by my inability to produce consecutive identical signatures. Okay, that’s an unrealistic standard, I suppose, but I couldn’t even produce pages that were each arguably “Bill”! It became a game to see whether any two of the signatures bore sufficient similarity to convince an independent observer that the same person had signed each.
So, I don’t expect to become president.... Well, I suppose I could become president, then allow someone else to sign for me, or use digital techniques to implant identical images on the required paperwork – that is, I could fake it – but that doesn’t sound very presidential.
This signature silliness got me to thinking about the consistency of my faith life, whether on any two consecutive occasions (or, more generously, any two consecutive days) I demonstrate anything close to a consistent image of the Jesus I claim. Am I able/willing to be as much a vessel for his presence today as I was yesterday, or last month, or whenever I last was able/willing to do so? Or is my faithfulness as unpredictable as my signature? Are there days when it’s not at all clear to an objective observer that I have any lord other than myself?
Of course, I could say I'm a Christian, but then fake it - allow others to cover for me, to excuse and accept my failings - but that doesn't seem very Jesus-like.
No, I have to face this. If in my world, signature inconsistency bars me from presidential consideration, what is the result of unpredictable faithfulness?
Each of us has to answer for ourselves, of course, but I will tell you what I have figured out: Grace may be defined as “unmerited favor,” but in light of my spiritual weaknesses, grace is more practically defined as the guarantee of a known, pre-approved co-signer on my life’s paperwork. Even when I don’t qualify as the follower I claim to be, grace vouches for me, and initials the slip extending God’s contract. Without grace, left to the limitations of my own ways, my worries would be far greater than a foiled presidential bid.
When you have a moment, think back on your life. How does your life’s signature in today’s calm (or tempest), compare with that from last year’s storm (or contentment)? Do you need grace, too?
Pray with me:
The hymn lyrics are “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,” God. I say, amazing grace, how sweet the look, for even in my most distracted, depleted, or disinterested states, you restore me, you make my heart look like Jesus again. May I never tire of singing or pursuing your grace. In the name of Jesus, Amen.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Watch Out!
If I had money, I would buy watches – several different watches – so I could wear a different one every couple of weeks. In fact, I might buy “genuine replica” watches, to enhance the look, if not the value, of my chronological portfolio.
“Genuine replica” is a watch genre I discovered tonight during a Web search. They are time pieces made to look like, but not cost like expensive brands such as Rolex. What makes them “genuine” replicas (isn’t that phrase a hoot!!) is the quality of the fakery employed in their creation. The design, nameplate, and color scheme accurately reflect what I guess you’d call the “genuine original.”
The advantage of “genuine replica” watches is that owners get the look, feel, and passerby gawks of the real thing, with only a modest investment. For example, you can get a “genuine replica” Rolex Daytona Cosmograph for $159. That’s still a chunk of change, but it’s quite a discount from the original’s $18,000 list price.
Not satisfied? How about a “genuine replica” Rolex Masterpiece – retail value: $80,000 – for just $329?
If I had money, I’d buy several different watches.... But probably not “genuine replicas;” they’re a bit too illegal for my tastes.
I go through seasons in my life when I feel like a genuine replica Christian. I say the right things. I perform the requisite duties. I read the Bible. I speak the prayers. I offer the worship. I throw my tithe in passing offering plates. From all appearances, to the oohs, ahs, and gawks of onlookers, I am a genuine follower of Jesus.
But I know differently. As its owner and manufacturer I know the deception, the fakery, the misdirection my apparent faithfulness employs. I know what’s beneath the surface. I know how to look and sound like one authentically connected. I know when I am going through the motions, when my words and actions, impressive to untrained observers, are feckless shell games whose ultimate objective is to avoid responsibility or accountability.
I assume you go through, or at least are capable of times like these. Whom do you think we’re trying to fool? Others? Ourselves? God? Perhaps it’s that we have little else to offer. Perhaps our bargain with Jesus is, “Lord, these have been hard weeks; if I had more I would give you more. But for now I need you to accept what the little I offer without too many questions. And for goodness’ sake, don’t send people into my path who will call attention to my game playing. Just be patient with me. I’m sure things will turn around. And if they don’t, well, look at all the good I’m doing, even if my heart’s not into it.”
Imagine a room of people wearing fake Rolexes. Impressing each other. Patting each other on the back for the quality and believability of their misdirection. All satisfied that they had achieved notoriety without sacrifice, high class without high effort. That’s what a church of genuine replica Christians is like. People who celebrate personal achievements, appreciate each other’s appearances, but who have forged their reputations.
Rolex sues sellers of fake watches (which are garbage, beneath the glitzy shells, by the way). I wonder how God responds to faked faith?
Pray with me:
I know it’s not enough to claim the name, God. It’s not enough to have the arms and legs and mouth acting right. I need to have the heart beating with your rhythms. Some days, some seasons I don’t, but at least I am aware when they come. Bless my efforts to shorten those seasons and end those days. I don’t want to be like Jesus, if that means "imitating" him. I want him to live through me...at least that’s my conviction in this brief moment of authenticity as I pray in his name, Amen.
“Genuine replica” is a watch genre I discovered tonight during a Web search. They are time pieces made to look like, but not cost like expensive brands such as Rolex. What makes them “genuine” replicas (isn’t that phrase a hoot!!) is the quality of the fakery employed in their creation. The design, nameplate, and color scheme accurately reflect what I guess you’d call the “genuine original.”
The advantage of “genuine replica” watches is that owners get the look, feel, and passerby gawks of the real thing, with only a modest investment. For example, you can get a “genuine replica” Rolex Daytona Cosmograph for $159. That’s still a chunk of change, but it’s quite a discount from the original’s $18,000 list price.
Not satisfied? How about a “genuine replica” Rolex Masterpiece – retail value: $80,000 – for just $329?
If I had money, I’d buy several different watches.... But probably not “genuine replicas;” they’re a bit too illegal for my tastes.
I go through seasons in my life when I feel like a genuine replica Christian. I say the right things. I perform the requisite duties. I read the Bible. I speak the prayers. I offer the worship. I throw my tithe in passing offering plates. From all appearances, to the oohs, ahs, and gawks of onlookers, I am a genuine follower of Jesus.
But I know differently. As its owner and manufacturer I know the deception, the fakery, the misdirection my apparent faithfulness employs. I know what’s beneath the surface. I know how to look and sound like one authentically connected. I know when I am going through the motions, when my words and actions, impressive to untrained observers, are feckless shell games whose ultimate objective is to avoid responsibility or accountability.
I assume you go through, or at least are capable of times like these. Whom do you think we’re trying to fool? Others? Ourselves? God? Perhaps it’s that we have little else to offer. Perhaps our bargain with Jesus is, “Lord, these have been hard weeks; if I had more I would give you more. But for now I need you to accept what the little I offer without too many questions. And for goodness’ sake, don’t send people into my path who will call attention to my game playing. Just be patient with me. I’m sure things will turn around. And if they don’t, well, look at all the good I’m doing, even if my heart’s not into it.”
Imagine a room of people wearing fake Rolexes. Impressing each other. Patting each other on the back for the quality and believability of their misdirection. All satisfied that they had achieved notoriety without sacrifice, high class without high effort. That’s what a church of genuine replica Christians is like. People who celebrate personal achievements, appreciate each other’s appearances, but who have forged their reputations.
Rolex sues sellers of fake watches (which are garbage, beneath the glitzy shells, by the way). I wonder how God responds to faked faith?
Pray with me:
I know it’s not enough to claim the name, God. It’s not enough to have the arms and legs and mouth acting right. I need to have the heart beating with your rhythms. Some days, some seasons I don’t, but at least I am aware when they come. Bless my efforts to shorten those seasons and end those days. I don’t want to be like Jesus, if that means "imitating" him. I want him to live through me...at least that’s my conviction in this brief moment of authenticity as I pray in his name, Amen.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Through the Looking Glass...Barely
During a hospital visit today I had a moment to look at someone other than myself in a mirror. An odd experience it was, because I had never seen this particular person’s reflected image; I had always seen her the way everyone sees her.
Her mirrored image was very different from the one to which I had become accustomed. Of course everything was reversed, but it was more than that. She didn’t look anything like the person I have known for nearly all my years in the Quad Cities.
Later it occurred to me that for that brief instant I was seeing this person the way she sees herself every time she looks in a mirror; I was seeing her through her eyes, not my own. And the view was quite different. Not different bad, or different good...just different.
The experience prompted me to wonder how differently people see me than I see myself. Is everything for the people who view my life reversed, or at least significantly different from my perspective? Does the person I think I am vary that much from the person others’ experiences?
I ask these questions not to extrude your evaluations of my situation, but rather to request your reflections on your own. What’s your sense of how closely your self-awareness parallels others’ perceptions? Do others receive you the same way you receive yourself? I understand if you don’t care what others think — most of the time I don’t either — but for a moment humor my curiosity.
I don’t think this is a question of whose perception is accurate. Nor am I suggesting that you and I undergo some kind of therapeutic intervention for our distorted views. It’s just that we live basically bottled up in our minds, spirits, and bodies. We have first hand experience of ourselves and the world only through personal senses. Our onlookers – those who receive, review, and evaluate us – similarly have only their own lenses through which to view us. We might be surprised (and aided) if we lived more aware of and open to our respective perspectives and limitations.
That word limitations is important. The person I saw in the mirror today also saw me...in the mirror. For once she saw me the way I see myself. At last word, she has survived the encounter.
Pray with me:
Help me see myself the way you see me. Let me be sensitive to others’ views, but not enslaved to them. Help me grow from the truth you offer to me from others. Shape me into a beacon of light, hope, and honesty to others. In the name of Jesus, Amen.
Her mirrored image was very different from the one to which I had become accustomed. Of course everything was reversed, but it was more than that. She didn’t look anything like the person I have known for nearly all my years in the Quad Cities.
Later it occurred to me that for that brief instant I was seeing this person the way she sees herself every time she looks in a mirror; I was seeing her through her eyes, not my own. And the view was quite different. Not different bad, or different good...just different.
The experience prompted me to wonder how differently people see me than I see myself. Is everything for the people who view my life reversed, or at least significantly different from my perspective? Does the person I think I am vary that much from the person others’ experiences?
I ask these questions not to extrude your evaluations of my situation, but rather to request your reflections on your own. What’s your sense of how closely your self-awareness parallels others’ perceptions? Do others receive you the same way you receive yourself? I understand if you don’t care what others think — most of the time I don’t either — but for a moment humor my curiosity.
I don’t think this is a question of whose perception is accurate. Nor am I suggesting that you and I undergo some kind of therapeutic intervention for our distorted views. It’s just that we live basically bottled up in our minds, spirits, and bodies. We have first hand experience of ourselves and the world only through personal senses. Our onlookers – those who receive, review, and evaluate us – similarly have only their own lenses through which to view us. We might be surprised (and aided) if we lived more aware of and open to our respective perspectives and limitations.
That word limitations is important. The person I saw in the mirror today also saw me...in the mirror. For once she saw me the way I see myself. At last word, she has survived the encounter.
Pray with me:
Help me see myself the way you see me. Let me be sensitive to others’ views, but not enslaved to them. Help me grow from the truth you offer to me from others. Shape me into a beacon of light, hope, and honesty to others. In the name of Jesus, Amen.
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