Twenty: You Can't Cure a Disease by Treating Symptoms

I feel like I need to explain my statement in a previous post that God did not use me in Myanmar.  It doesn't mean that God had no purpose for sending me.  It's just that I suspect that the primary purpose for this trip was not so much for me to be used by God to save others, but rather for God to teach me.   I hope that in sharing what I've learned, however, the trip will have value beyond just my personal enrichment.

This trip felt like a bringing together of several strands of knowledge that I've been learning since a trip to Haiti in 2010, but the short version is this:  There is a right and a wrong way to engage internationally to foster justice and fight oppression, and She is Safe does it right.

I saw the results of "aid gone wrong" on a post-earthquake trip to Haiti.  Although I couldn't have put my finger on it at the time, I was troubled by a rather dependent mind-set on the part of many (but by no means all) Haitians whose answer to difficult times was to request money or rescue from their wealthier non-Haitian contacts.  In hindsight, I believe the attitude is one WE created over decades of well-intentioned but poorly designed efforts to help the struggling nation.

In their book Helping Without Hurting, Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert suggest that "helping" can actually hurt the recipient because it too often fails to address the roots of the problem.  For example, many programs by churches and humanitarian organizations have the goal of poverty alleviation.  However, the programs have an incomplete and unbiblical view of poverty as a lack of material goods or financial opportunity.  In this view, the "solution" is too often simply to give the needy the material goods that are lacking.

In reality, this approach is merely treating a symptom of the much deeper and more complex psychological and social roots that lead to poverty.  As a result, our well-intentioned handouts have the unintended side effects of creating dependency, undermining the dignity of the materially poor, and perpetuating the underlying causes of poverty.

Corbett and Fikkert prescribe a more biblical and holistic view of poverty as "rooted in broken relationships with God, self, others, and the rest of creation."  Using the Bible as their guide, the authors propose modeling development efforts after God's mission of what they call "comprehensive reconciliation" in ways that restore not just material possessions, but opportunity, dignity, and an appreciation of one's identity as a divine image-bearer.

Applying the perspectives offered by Corbett and Fikkert to the important anti-trafficking work that is much more in the spotlight these days, I can see how I have made similar errors in thinking.  When I first learned of the extent of human-trafficking in the world--and particularly sex-trafficking--my response was what I hope most people's would be: "We have got to stop this!  We have to rescue the women and children enduring such horrors!"

It's not wrong thinking, but it is incomplete.  Yes, we must have programs that work directly to rescue people from slavery and exploitation.  However, until we address the underlying systems of thought and culture that foster the treatment of humans as property, until we attack thinking that elevates personal gratification over all else, trafficking will continue to flourish.

Such an approach is a daunting undertaking:  It is slow, complicated, messy, and definitely not for the faint of heart.   On my trip to Myanmar, I had the privilege of seeing such efforts walked out by She is Safe staff members and their partners in Myanmar.  Seeing all of my book-learning walked out in practice in a context that is so ripe with opportunity is why I can say with confidence that my trip was a success despite the fact that I rescued no one.

Eighteen: To my Beloved Atheist:

Note: While it is written to an atheist, I challenge Christians--myself included--to read this letter as if it were written to them.  Because we are just as prone to the attitudes I am addressing here. 

It is not written to a specific person, but rather to a compilation of many people whom I love and who have deeply held beliefs that are different from mine.  I use the term atheist, but it could just as easily have been a person who passionately holds any belief system that is different from mine, be it religious, educational, political, or nutritional.  We have become such a culture of critics and--to use a technical term--side-takers. This is my attempt to offer a better way.

To My Beloved Atheist:

I read the following phrase yesterday:

"There's plenty of space here for differences and disagreements, but I will not save room at the table for aggression or harassment, I won't respond to condescension."--Jamie Wright

I almost shouted, "YES!"

Yet here I go, about to respond to condescension, albeit unintended.  I respond not to win an argument, because I don't believe I can. I am not intellectual enough nor self-assured enough to match wits with you, and we both are too deeply passionate about our beliefs.

My kids' logic book would classify it as a stupid argument: one that cannot be won because neither party can be swayed.  First of all, the key point of difference in our beliefs is one that cannot be empirically proven.  I can show you scientific reasons for why I believe there is a Creator, and you can give me scientific reasons why you believe there isn't.  However, I cannot PROVE to you there's a God, and you can't PROVE to me there isn't.  So why fight about it?

I don't want to.

I would, however, like to invite you to take a peek at my perspective.  Whether it is right or wrong is not the point of this conversation.  It is just my perspective, and I'm not sure you've ever considered it.

When you proclaim your beliefs, it is often from a stance that feels very confrontational, with the implied suggestion--if not declaration--that anyone who disagrees is an idiot. Or delusional.

I know you love me and would never tell me to my face that I am a simpleton.  Yet you ridicule my beliefs to rooms full of people with me standing there; you shout your disdain across the Internet, knowing I'm out there somewhere, living a life based on what you mock.

You don't mean to say that I am stupid.  Just people who think like me.

It doesn't offend (okay, maybe it does); mainly it hurts.

I know, Christians can be just as gifted at condescension as atheists, as can passionate Republicans, Democrats, vegans, gun owners, or gun-control advocates... you get the picture. Maybe we all have surrounded ourselves so completely with like-minded people that we forget that not everyone is like-minded, and so we scorn some imaginary "others" whom we never consider wounding because they are a caricature, not a person.

I don't know.

I do know we all need to be nicer, and put a real face to that other, that fool, we are ridiculing. So next time you feel the urge to speak or write something belittling Christians, I would like you to picture my face, and write as if you are saying it about me. 

Because you are.

While I don't want to argue whose beliefs are RIGHT, I do think it's helpful to listen more than we speak.  Even more, we need to listen to understand, not to simply to respond.  I would be happy to share with you why I believe what I do, if you are ever curious and think you could listen and be open to the possibility that a person can be rational, sane, and even intelligent, and yet arrive at a different conclusion than you did.  I would also love to hear what reasons you have for why you believe as you do, and with such passion. You're very clear about what you believe, but I don't feel like I know what led you to your set of convictions.

If we could let go of the need to convince one another long enough to hear each other, it might be a beautiful conversation.

The other point I'd like to offer some perspective on is one of motives.

You are often rather evangelistic in your proclamation of your beliefs. Whether you intend it or not, when you forcefully pronounce the superiority of your faith in no god, I feel very much as if you are trying to convert me, to get me to renounce my faith and turn to yours.  Any why not? Christians are pretty enthusiastic about converting others to their faith.  It's only fair.

Except here's the question I have always had: Why is it so important that I don't believe?  If you convince me, how is that better for me?

If I understand correctly, you believe we are products of chance, life is what it is and nothing guides or influences it other than the actors in the play.  We are on our own.  Let's even assume you are right about this.  How does it benefit my life, how is it better for me to believe it?  I can cling to my very satisfying delusion and when my life is over be none the wiser.  Delusion or not, if there is no God, and this is all there is, then I'll be too dead to be disappointed if I'm wrong.

On the other hand, if I concede that you are right and reject my faith to believe as you do--I will have turned away from my hope, my purpose, my meaning, and my joy.  Sure, I have might been wrong about it all, but what difference will it make in the grand scheme of things?  If what you believe is true, why do you feel the need to convert me--particularly if my "delusion" encourages me to love others, live humbly, give generously and fight injustice?  It doesn't feel like your motives are loving if you would take that away and offer nothingness in return.

Now humor me and try to imagine I am right.  Remember we're not debating if I'm right or not, we're going for understanding of my motives. Suspend your disbelief for a moment and pretend that what I believe is actually the truth...

What I believe is that we were created to be in relationship with a holy and loving God. Consequently, it follows that by not believing, you are rejecting him and missing out good things.  Ultimate things, actually, and I want good for you.  Furthermore, I believe that this life is not all there is, and that if you reject God during this lifetime, there are pretty serious and eternal consequences--the very least of which is spending forever with no way to feel love, joy, or satisfaction--and acutely, eternally aware of the loss.

So think about this: even if that is impossible to believe, can you at least appreciate why it would be important to me to let you know about what I believe?  Can you see that even if it makes you uncomfortable, or embarrassed or annoyed,  the motive behind the sharing of my faith is a loving one?  If I love you, and if I really believe what I say I do, then I'd have to be some kind of a jerk not to at least try to make you aware.

In fact, I should probably apologize for not trying harder.

Graceful Parenting

When my oldest was in preschool, the school involved parents by asking two parents each day to stay and help out with the class, supervising and participating along with the kids.  On one of my "helper" days, the other mom in class came over and complimented me on my daughter's sweet disposition and cooperative spirit and asked, "How did you do that?"

I could only respond, "I didn't do anything, she was just born that way.  I guess I'm lucky."

Smiling ironically, she commented, "Ohhh, I see now.  God didn't have anything to teach you."

As it turned out, she and her husband, both accomplished professionals, had delayed having children until they were firmly established in their careers and financially stable.

She told me, "Before we were parents we would spend time with my brother and his family, and when their kids acted out, we'd look at each other knowingly and simultaneously think 'our children will never behave like that.'"  Apparently, prior to embarking on the parenting journey, they had studied up on all the best methods of child-rearing.  Therefore, they were confident that because they were so knowledgable in the art of parenting, their offspring would be a constant delight.

She chuckled then and added, "...and so God gave us Tess."

Tess was a beautiful little red-headed spitfire with an iron will and relentless spirit.  Daily she rammed head-on into her parents' boundaries, causing them to slam the parenting books shut and hit their knees.  It paid off, because I was often impressed with how they handled the tumultuous girl with grace, firmness and abundant love.

Still, at four she was rarely a delight to be with.

Tess's momma realized that God was using her little fireball to humble her proud heart.  "If I had had a sweet-natured child like Katie, I would have been sure it was due to my excellent parenting.  With Tess, I have to cling daily to Jesus and know that only by His grace will we survive her childhood."

I've often wished I could see Tess now that she's nineteen.  I'm sure she's still strong-willed, but I bet her parents' consistency and love in those early years helped her to learn at the very least that she is not the center of the universe and that her actions have consequences.  I suspect that were I to meet her now, I would find her to be a delight.

I share this exchange because I think we all need a little humility like Tess's mom. It's so easy to look at a young person of excellent character and attribute every success to their parents.  It is also far too easy to witness the wrong choices of another child and shake our heads and speculate about what the parents did wrong to produce such results. I've certainly been guilty of both.

Just today I heard a mom applauding her daughter's lifestyle choices. She ended with the observation: "I guess I did something right."

I'm sure that mom probably did do something right (and if she's like me, she probably did some things wrong, too). Unfortunately, the unintended implication of a comment like that is that the parent of a child making different choices must have done something wrong, which may not be the case at all.

Children are not products: If you put in the right ingredients you get a predictable result.  No, they are fallen humans made in the image of God--just like their parents are.

I'm not saying that parents have no influence on their kids, they do.  We each have a sacred and important stewardship in raising them.

However,  this parenting adventure in a community of believers has shown me that even if a parent does everything right,  kids still have free will.  One of them--or all of them--might make choices that go against everything they have been taught.

Conversely, I know that parents can do a multitude of things WRONG and still have kids that own their choices, rise above the mistakes and lead productive and wholesome lives.

So this is my rally cry to parents to give grace to the wounded, grieve with those who grieve, support one another, pray for one another, celebrate victories and acknowledge that every parenting victory belongs to God alone.

The Sin of Sodom

"Sodom's sins were pride, gluttony and laziness while the poor and needy suffered outside her door."  Ezekiel 16:49

Well now, that was a surprise!

When I hear the name of Sodom, I think of a place of great sin, but like most people, I tend to think of the sexual sin that was so rampant in that city.  I would even venture to say that the name of Sodom elicits an association with not just sexual sin, but specifically homosexuality.

Consequently, I have always assumed that Sodom was destroyed primarily because of rampant sexual sin and depravity.  I don't think I'm alone in this misconception.  I have heard many believers teach that God poured out His wrath on Sodom because of her sexual perversion.

Ezekiel tells me otherwise.  The sexual sins of Sodom were despicable in God's eyes; I don't excuse them at all. However, what God seems to be saying here is that those sins, which we in the church consider so horrific, weren't the worst ones.

God wiped out the city of Sodom NOT because of homosexuality, but because of PRIDE, GLUTTONY, and LAZINESS WHILE THE POOR AND NEEDY SUFFERED.  


How then, does He feel when we shout our indignation over a pro-homosexual agenda in our society, but then joke and make light of our lack of control at the buffet?

When we boycott stores because of pro-gay policies, and then laugh about our minimal effort at work, school or the gym?

When we refuse to watch Ellen because of her sexual preference, and then feel smug about our moral superiority?

When we spend huge amounts of energy and effort raging about the sexual perversion of our culture, but turn a blind eye to the staggering needs of the orphaned and abandoned children in the foster care system who are just outside our doors?

We are focusing on "thou shalt nots," when He wants us to glorify Him by letting our light shine before men through our selflessness and charity.


I suspect that we would have a lot more success in cleaning up culture if we humbled ourselves and washed some feet. 


Ezekiel would suggest that in condemning the one and making light of the other, we are committing, or at least excusing, the very sins for which Sodom was obliterated by God's wrath.

Kind of makes me want to duck to avoid lightning bolts from above.

Father, protect me from the pride that would cause me to minimize sins that you find maximum.  The truth is, without Your Spirit I am very prone to every sin for which Sodom was destroyed.  Let this knowledge lead me daily to the cross, overwhelmed by the mercy You have shown me and the power Your Spirit gives me to have victory over them.  I know I cannot have victory over sins I don't recognize, so thank You, Lord, for Your Word, which shows me Your heart.  Shift my desires from fleshly appetites to a hunger for Your presence.  Let me never be comfortable being full while others are hungry, either for food or for the Bread of Life.  Amen

Who's Proud?

 

I have been stewing over the concepts of pride and humility.  Both are rather slippery.

What is pride?  My knee-jerk mental picture is an arrogant, haughty person who views himself as better (or smarter, or holier, or more important...) than others.  There is certainly obvious pride, but the most dangerous is subtle or disguised pride.

At its core, pride is a heart centered on self. The proud heart says, "Me first, God."

By this definition, a person who is far from haughty can also be proud.  Insecurity and self-pity are actually symptoms of pride. What a perfect tool pride is for the enemy.  If he can't make us feel superior to others, he can get us to feel sorry for ourselves about it!  Either way, pride reigns.

In contrast, humility is the result of a God-centered heart.  The best definition I've heard is that a humble person doesn't think less of himself; he thinks of himself less often.  The Catch-22 about humility is that the moment we realize we are acting humbly, we are at risk of losing that humility.

As slippery as these qualities are, the Bible is abundantly clear about which heart God prefers.  He opposes the proud and gives grace to the humble.  Haughty eyes are at the top of the list of things God detests.

God's preference for humility resonates even within our own flawed hearts.

Be honest; don't proud people offend you? They do me.

The men and women I most admire are the ones who are the most humble. Even in our fallen and fleshly state, we see the divine in humility and the disgusting in pride.

Why then, if we experience such admiration for humility in others, does it seem such a distasteful thing to strive for in ourselves?

We respect the lowly, yet resist being thought lowly in the opinion of others.

We cry out for attention, esteem and praise, even as we marvel over the beauty of a soul that does not seek recognition.

During the past several years in many different situations, I have watched pride destroy marriages, families, businesses, security, peace, and fellowship.  I have grieved as people whose craving for respect or status or control or stuff proved more dear to them than God's fellowship and blessing.  I've witnessed devastated people standing in the rubble of opportunities or relationships ruined by pride--yet still clinging desperately to the very idol that caused the destruction.

It is painful to watch--even worse to be among those wounded by it.

So often in the past months I have been tempted to beg God to bring down the proud.

Before the prayer can ever pass my lips, this thought enters my mind:

"What if that's YOU?"

Because I am just a likely to be acting in pride.  It's so easy to spot in others, so hard to recognize in ourselves.

Over the past months I have felt a wide array of painful emotions brought on by a great disappointment.  I have struggled to resist a root of bitterness that would to take hold in my heart and choke out love.

The very emotions and sins I wrestle with reveal a heart that is focused primarily on ME.

A heart that is proud.

Do I really want God to bring down the proud?

Because I would definitely be among those going down.

No, instead, I want to beg God to keep constantly before me an awareness of His grace to me.

I don't deserve anything, and He gave everything.

 I don't want God to bring down the proud, I want Him to bring down the pride.

Create in me a clean heart, O God.  Expose any pride to which I am blind before it destroys.  Reveal truth not to expose fraud before the world, but to show your child that she is resisting You and missing out on Your best.  Draw me broken and repentant before You--not making excuses, not glossing over, not placing blame--but TRULY repentant.  Show me how despicable my pride is, so that I can cry out in repentance and receive Grace.

Father, break me to humble me so that I can experience the beauty of Your grace and the freedom to show grace to others.