The largely-popular Broadway musical, Rent is a provocative commentary on the nature of community. It seems like community often gets dumb-ed down to homogenous relationships. Rent is anything but uniform. The narrative combines a wide range of personalities, interests, and backgrounds. Yet, void of strong family ties, they create friendship, support, and shelter together. Aspiring filmmaker Mark Cohen, one of the leads, makes a profound statement saying, “War isn’t the opposite of peace. It’s our ability to create.” So, what are we creating with our lives, in our homes, with those that are most near, and in our City with those that seem most different?
In the Hebrew language of the Old Testament, the word for “compassion” comes from the root word, “womb.” The picture is of a birthing. Something new is being born. It seems that are ability to create – or the Creator’s Spirit in each of us – is intended to demonstrate care, offer help, and/or author hope.
If we apply this to our life experience, it means that my compassionate acts gives people the benefit of the doubt. It affords them another chance. I offer a “fresh start.” Compassion requires me to take inventory of what I find most value – my very full calendar, my limited financial means, or my cherished relationships. Typically, it’s not hard to “give of myself” if it doesn’t intersect with those things. But what if what I have is supposed to involve others, even if that means I lesson my indulgence or occupation of those gifts. I think such compassion will dramatically change the way we relate to each other.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Controlling Interests
What do you think brings greater satisfaction/joy/contentment/pleasure: Something you can control OR something beyond your control?
I think most of us, if we are honest, recognize that both can produce desired results. Yet, I’m suspicious that something beyond our control has greater potential for impact in our lives.
Most of us battle a need to control. Or, maybe what we battle is a loss of control. It’s the feeling of being out of control financially, romantically, with our health, in our jobs, among friends, with our reputation, our eating, emotionally, in scheduling our days, evenings, and weekends.
Any one of these can trigger a response to tighten our grip. Certainly, what’s at stake is a motivator. But so is our faith. Grace is God’s invitation to begin again; perhaps to loosen our hold.
So, here’s a thought I’m kicking around: When we celebrate grace, maybe we’re also celebrating something we can’t control.
It reminds of an early church father, Paul the Apostle, words which says, “for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable” (Rom.11:29). Grace means simply a gift. It comes from the Greek work, ‘Charis’. It’s where we get the word ‘charismatic’ or ‘charisma’. It’s that indefinable, indescribable quality in a person that makes them particularly gifted. In show business and performance art, it’s simply referred to as having (or not having) “it”. And, you can’t control “it”. You either have it or your don’t. Simply put, grace. So then, it’s what we do and how we leverage grace that helps us let go, un-clench our fist, or bite our tongue.
Maybe the question we need to ask isn’t, Do I feel in control? Maybe the question is, to what extent does the Creator have control of me?
I think most of us, if we are honest, recognize that both can produce desired results. Yet, I’m suspicious that something beyond our control has greater potential for impact in our lives.
Most of us battle a need to control. Or, maybe what we battle is a loss of control. It’s the feeling of being out of control financially, romantically, with our health, in our jobs, among friends, with our reputation, our eating, emotionally, in scheduling our days, evenings, and weekends.
Any one of these can trigger a response to tighten our grip. Certainly, what’s at stake is a motivator. But so is our faith. Grace is God’s invitation to begin again; perhaps to loosen our hold.
So, here’s a thought I’m kicking around: When we celebrate grace, maybe we’re also celebrating something we can’t control.
It reminds of an early church father, Paul the Apostle, words which says, “for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable” (Rom.11:29). Grace means simply a gift. It comes from the Greek work, ‘Charis’. It’s where we get the word ‘charismatic’ or ‘charisma’. It’s that indefinable, indescribable quality in a person that makes them particularly gifted. In show business and performance art, it’s simply referred to as having (or not having) “it”. And, you can’t control “it”. You either have it or your don’t. Simply put, grace. So then, it’s what we do and how we leverage grace that helps us let go, un-clench our fist, or bite our tongue.
Maybe the question we need to ask isn’t, Do I feel in control? Maybe the question is, to what extent does the Creator have control of me?
Friday, September 4, 2009
All Things New
The largely popular Broadway musical, Rent is a provocative commentary on the nature of community. It seems like community often gets dumb-ed down to homogenous relationships. Rent is anything but uniform. The narrative combines a wide range of personalities, interests, and backgrounds. Yet, void of strong family ties, they create friendship, support, and shelter together. Aspiring filmmaker Mark Cohen, one of the leads, makes a profound statement saying, “War isn’t the opposite of peace. It’s our ability to create.” So, what are we creating with our lives, in our homes, with those that are most near, and in our City with those that seem most different?
In the Hebrew language of the Old Testament, the word for “compassion” comes from the root word, “womb.” The picture is of a birthing. Something new is being born. It seems that our ability to create – or the Creator’s Spirit in each of us – is intended to demonstrate care, offer help, and/or author hope.
If we apply this to our life experience, it means that my compassionate acts gives people the benefit of the doubt. It affords them another chance. I offer a “fresh start.” Compassion requires me to take inventory of what I find most value – my very full calendar, my limited financial means, or my cherished relationships. Typically, it’s not hard to “give of myself” if it doesn’t intersect with those things. But what if what I have is supposed to involve others, even if that means I lesson my indulgence or occupation of those gifts. I think such compassion will dramatically change the way we relate to each other.
I was thinking this week, trying to decide, if our past or our future defines us more. You can argue that our past – full of life experience, trials and track records, unmet expectations, regrets, or rewards – shape us most. It would be hard to dispute it. Yet, I often find driven people, relentless in their pursuit of goals. It’s hard not to see how ambition, dreams, and goal setting is defining them. However, maybe the thing that defines us most is the present. Obviously, the past or the future can’t be thought of as mutually exclusive. Regardless of circumstances, we all have a choice in how we choose to respond. And we all have today – this moment – to create a better way, if not a blessing. Through compassion, he makes all things – our homes, our hearts, our relationships, our cities, our world – new.
In the Hebrew language of the Old Testament, the word for “compassion” comes from the root word, “womb.” The picture is of a birthing. Something new is being born. It seems that our ability to create – or the Creator’s Spirit in each of us – is intended to demonstrate care, offer help, and/or author hope.
If we apply this to our life experience, it means that my compassionate acts gives people the benefit of the doubt. It affords them another chance. I offer a “fresh start.” Compassion requires me to take inventory of what I find most value – my very full calendar, my limited financial means, or my cherished relationships. Typically, it’s not hard to “give of myself” if it doesn’t intersect with those things. But what if what I have is supposed to involve others, even if that means I lesson my indulgence or occupation of those gifts. I think such compassion will dramatically change the way we relate to each other.
I was thinking this week, trying to decide, if our past or our future defines us more. You can argue that our past – full of life experience, trials and track records, unmet expectations, regrets, or rewards – shape us most. It would be hard to dispute it. Yet, I often find driven people, relentless in their pursuit of goals. It’s hard not to see how ambition, dreams, and goal setting is defining them. However, maybe the thing that defines us most is the present. Obviously, the past or the future can’t be thought of as mutually exclusive. Regardless of circumstances, we all have a choice in how we choose to respond. And we all have today – this moment – to create a better way, if not a blessing. Through compassion, he makes all things – our homes, our hearts, our relationships, our cities, our world – new.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
A Good Line
Probably the best line I’ve heard in weeks came from my 7-year old daughter while attending the Broadway production, Wicked. As the story line unfolded, she/we were drawn into the drama. The “different” sister was being shaped into the outcast image by the meanness around her. Not a kind word or gracious gesture to be found. Hurt was mounting and Annika asks,
“Daddy. Why would she act wicked when she has a friend?”
All I could come up with in that moment was that, “she’s not wicked. She’s good. The people around her are making her out to be something she’s not.”
To my little girl, the power of words is only outweighed by the weight of relationship. We all have bad stuff, mean words, and failed attempts. But we still have a choice, if not responsibility. That choice to do the right thing or to like who you are, at least in the eyes of Annika, is more plausible with a good relationship.
How many of us have relationships that serve as personal barometers for conduct, speech, faith, and service? Relationship that help my attitude, discern my motivations, fuel my desire. I need relationships that encourage and challenge. Ones that bring out the best version of me but not feel I have to perform, either.
This sounds idyllic but, in looking for that in another, I’m realizing something in me. I’m learning who I need to become. And in this moment, Annika’s teaching me. Her question speaks of her reality. It’s how she lives and processes right from wrong, good and bad choices. It’s how she’s deciding who she wants to be in the schoolyard or in the classroom. She has a consistency about her that feels really natural (not obliged).
Oh, but from the mouths of babes…. She had a good line.
“Daddy. Why would she act wicked when she has a friend?”
All I could come up with in that moment was that, “she’s not wicked. She’s good. The people around her are making her out to be something she’s not.”
To my little girl, the power of words is only outweighed by the weight of relationship. We all have bad stuff, mean words, and failed attempts. But we still have a choice, if not responsibility. That choice to do the right thing or to like who you are, at least in the eyes of Annika, is more plausible with a good relationship.
How many of us have relationships that serve as personal barometers for conduct, speech, faith, and service? Relationship that help my attitude, discern my motivations, fuel my desire. I need relationships that encourage and challenge. Ones that bring out the best version of me but not feel I have to perform, either.
This sounds idyllic but, in looking for that in another, I’m realizing something in me. I’m learning who I need to become. And in this moment, Annika’s teaching me. Her question speaks of her reality. It’s how she lives and processes right from wrong, good and bad choices. It’s how she’s deciding who she wants to be in the schoolyard or in the classroom. She has a consistency about her that feels really natural (not obliged).
Oh, but from the mouths of babes…. She had a good line.
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