 Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.
- Galatians 6:2 Last month our family was watching a National Geographic documentary called Limitless. Actor Chris Hemsworth (most famous for being Thor) explores what it means to continue to grow as he ages, and he takes on various experiences that challenge his mind and body in new ways. In an episode entitled "Pain," it is revealed that although Hemsworth has made a living through physical acting roles, he has actually dealt with severe chronic back pain for many years. Sometimes it's debilitating. So the episode explores how we view pain, how we manage it, and what shapes our experience of it. I found one section particularly fascinating. It revealed that how we experience the same pain can actually be quite different based on our mindset and who is around us. In a room alone, Hemsworth was hooked up to an electric shock pad attached to his stomach. As the intensity was slowly turned up, he was told to tap out when he couldn't stand it anymore. It was harder than he thought. At level three, he reached his limit. Then they changed the experiment. Hemsworth was allowed to invite two of his friends into the same experiment, except this time they would all be in the same room. And not only that, but as the shocks were intensifying, they were given a game of Jenga to play together. The results were hilarious. There was a lot of shouting, a lot of laughter, and some very precarious moments with the Jenga tower as each man tried to remove pieces while also doubling over in pain. Why on earth is this stuff so funny to watch? We are horrible people. But the end result was actually the opposite of delighting in another's pain. When Hemsworth finally tapped out, laughing and screaming at the same time, the results were tallied. Alone, he reached his limit at level three. With his friends across the table, he tapped out at level fifteen. What a glimpse into the power of community. Hemsworth and his friends laughed together. Sure, they distracted each other too. But they shared the pain, and they were able to bear far more of it before it broke them. Their very experience of pain was transformed. The director of the experiment, palliative expert Dr. BJ Miller, explained that as social beings, it's clear that we can share pain and draw strength and support from people around us. He also mentioned that we can amplify pain. "We can draw scorn and shame and embarrassment from people around us too. It goes both directions." What power we have in each other's lives. And what opportunity, if used for good. God did not create us to suffer in silence. We were never made to experience pain alone. As a disciple of Jesus, numerous things jump out at me. The first is that as Jesus embraces the world's pain on the cross, he is sharing in our sufferings and changing our experience of it on a mystical, profound level. Conversely, when we suffer, in another mysterious way we relate with Jesus in his suffering (1 Peter 4:13). This can deepen our connection with him and bring strength and perseverance. In the New Testament, this is especially emphasized when our pain comes from rejection or isolation as we seek to follow Jesus faithfully). But it goes beyond this. Jesus has also given us a community that is intended to transform how we experience pain. Instead of someone carrying an unbearable, crushing weight, we are called to get underneath it and bear it together. So every time that we suffer in silence or isolation, we miss out on the gift of community, and we reach our breaking point far earlier. We need each other. We need to learn vulnerability. We need to learn gentle presence. And when there is deep pain, the gift of community can even bring lightness and laughter to help get through it. It's beautiful. This is the gift of not suffering alone. It changes our pain tolerance. Pain is a part of life--chronic, emotional, psychological, physical. But isolation does not need to be a part of that life. In learning to follow Jesus in community, we laugh, cry, support, commiserate, and bear with one another. Because life is hard. But somehow, God's goodness remains available, even in the pain. Thanks to God that Jesus has given us each other. Lord, give me courage for vulnerability, and give those around me enough love to welcome it. Peace, Keith
0 Comments
 “Fools have no interest in understanding; they only want to air their own opinions.
-Proverbs 18:2 The Philadelphia Eagles won a close football game on Sunday in a Super Bowl rematch against the Kansas City Chiefs. On one crucial play, several of the Eagles players jumped offsides a split second before the play started. It was not called. Everyone was watching the same broadcast across the country--the same announcers, the same camera angles. Chiefs fans' responses: That was blatant cheating. The refs are on the Eagles side. That moment changed the entire game. Even if there wasn't a foul, that play shouldn't be legal. While we're at it, their Super Bowl trophy should be revoked. All Eagles fans are lowlife scum-suckers. Eagles fans' responses: That clearly didn't affect the outcome of the game. Plenty of calls were already missed against the Chiefs. We are obviously the better team anyway. The Chiefs are the actual cheaters, and they're just upset when they don't get the advantage. Go cry to your mothers. Nobody likes us and we don't care. In the interest of maintaining my clear neutrality, I will not tell you which perspective I found myself tempted toward--but let's be honest: We're all fools. Why such different responses? Everyone was looking at the same thing, weren't they? Yes, and no. My friends, no one is objective. We all see the world through complicated lenses. Some of them we do not choose. Some we do. The family you grew up in and the town you lived in have shaped your assumptions about the world and how you see things. How much money you make, your marital status, your gender, your cultural and racial background... each of these things affects how you see reality. And don't forget the churches you've attended, the news stations you watch, the apps you scroll through, and the variety (or lack) of people you interact with. And certainly, let's not overlook the sports teams you grew up cheering for. We are a subjective people. Many of our opinions are made long before the actual moment that we think we're forming them. Despite the most reasoned and seemingly impartial approaches we can take, we are humans whose perspectives are formed by hundreds of factors. And that's unavoidable--normal, even. But along with that, there's this tiny voice inside each of our heads, barely audible, that tells us: you have all the information you need about everyone else. Your perspective is the true one, and it's the righteous one. And everyone who's not in agreement deserves your indignation. Because the truth is objectively obvious all the time. Want a case study? Try asking 100 Christians from different churches to list 5 things that the Bible is clear and obvious about. How many hundreds of different answers do you think you'll get? No one is as objective as they think they are. And that's okay. We don't need perfect objectivity to be compassionate. We don't need to be objective to seek understanding. We simply need to walk in the grace and humility of following a suffering, selfless servant king. There have been hundreds of thousands of words written about current events lately, and social media algorithms are working overtime to simultaneously confirm and infuriate you. I have no desire to add to the noise, the fear, or the rage. But I want to add to understanding. And I want to add to compassion for the many who have been harmed recently. They've been harmed by violent shootings, violent demeaning rhetoric, and violent division. Airing our perspectives has a place. But the reality is that where we stand determines what we see, and all of us are standing with partially obstructed views. When we do "air" our opinions, it must come with deep humility, after seeking understanding and desiring faithfulness to Jesus--not the name that has become an empty permission slip to baptize our hatred and desire to control others--but the radical Jewish Palestinian rabbi who revealed God's character perfectly with sacrificial, other-oriented love and grace. We have a choice. We can endlessly argue about our rightness, creating cyclical debates and labeling massive groups of people. Or we can seek to understand. We can ask better questions and remove ourselves from the algorithmic (mob) mentality. We can move around into a position where we can see who is being harmed and why. And then we can work with the Spirit to be courageous healers. Jesus, may our desire for understanding lead us always into compassion. Peace, Keith  In the month of Nisan in the twentieth year of King Artaxerxes, when wine was brought for him, I took the wine and gave it to the king. I had not been sad in his presence before, so the king asked me, “Why does your face look so sad when you are not ill? This can be nothing but sadness of heart.”
-Nehemiah 2:1-3 Like Nehemiah, I’m not great at hiding my emotions when there’s a lot of pain going on. He was profoundly sad because the city that he loved, the place that he saw as the center of God’s faithfulness and activity— Jerusalem— had been reduced to rubble and ashes. It’s hard to feel optimistic when you look out and see brokenness at the heart of places you care about. My goodness, do I feel that. I feel that sadness for how painful and heartbreaking life has been for so many people I care about. I feel that sadness about God’s church. I feel that sadness about our country. So much of what Christians argue about, the way churches exclude people they’ve deemed unworthy, and the way discipleship has morphed into a series of rules and certainty rather than a humble, transforming heart toward Jesus—all of this grieves me. I spend my days with amazing people, many hurt by faith systems and leaders who pile on commands but ignore the primary two that Jesus actually gave us. The damage is so real. It gives me sadness of heart. And our country’s president made a joke this week about going to war and dropping bombs on a US city that he doesn’t like. Many Christians who worship the prince of peace laughed and applauded. And I find myself overcome with sadness at how blatant levels of hatred and corruption are going unchecked in our country. I want to understand. But so far, the confusion remains. It gives me sadness of heart. I’m trying to learn the path of discipleship from here. Jesus is our guide to understanding God’s nature and our example for how to live our days. So when I look at what Jesus did when he encountered heart sadness, I see two things. First, he cries too. It seems significant that the Scriptures tell us about three different times that Jesus sheds tears. He shares in the sorrow of a world that is contaminated by death, disease, violence, corruption, selfishness, and greed. He doesn’t really tell people to buck up. He enters into sadness and validates it. And second, he responds to the sadness by continuing to be a healer. He uses his time and energy to invite people toward God's hope, and to proclaim their worth, their value, and their forgiveness. One person at a time, one conversation at a time, one healing at a time. It was a slow movement that must have looked pretty insignificant in a messed up world. After all, his church was pretty tiny when he handed it over to inexperienced leaders. That sure seems like a lot of faith in imperfect people. I’m glad we have the Spirit’s help, but I wish he would have stayed longer. So our prayer today is something that has been etched in my heart for years. It wasn’t actually written by St. Francis, but it bears his message, so it’s been known as the Prayer of St. Francis for about a century. Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive. It is in pardoning that we are pardoned. And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. If you’re joyful today, that’s a beautiful thing to be thankful for. But if you’ve got sadness today, know that Jesus weeps with you, and that Jesus will use your compassion to make you a healer, if you allow him. Peace, Keith  Most important of all, continue to show deep love for each other...
1 Peter 4:8a While facilitating an Emotionally Healthy Relationships course several years ago, I heard a comment that's been repeated over and over again. We were discussing hands-on skills and tools to help us love others well with our words, expectations, and attitudes. One breakout group got into the subject of deep relationships. Someone mentioned how much they appreciate being able to get below the surface in connection with others, but how difficult that can be. And I started thinking about "surface tension." Surface tension is fascinating. The top of a liquid will naturally resist external forces, because there is a cohesive nature to the molecules on the surface. In simple terms, it forms a sheet on the top that insects can walk on... and that also feels like a slab of concrete if you jump onto it from too high up. There's a literal, scientifically-proven force out there that makes it hard for getting past the surface. It's true for humanity too. And all along you just thought you were socially awkward! Surface tension is surprisingly powerful. Maybe that's why Peter writes to the early church in such un-ambiguous language: Most importantly, friends! Love deeply. "Deeply." A key to healthy discipleship and being the Church is that our love has got to go below the surface. The actual Greek word that is translated "deep" in the NIV means "fervent." This is a love that requires true effort and true commitment to break through the surface layers. Simply understanding love in this way is a first step to healthy Christian community. The second is acknowledging that surface tension is a real thing. When we name the reality of surface tension and how easy it is to avoid depth in our relationships, we can move beyond our egos and be more intentional about diving deeper and breaking through. But somebody has to go first. With how strong the pull is to stay on the surface of conversations and relationships, someone is going to have to break the tension and make the splash. Someone has to be willing to ask great questions, share honestly, and disrupt the ease of surface level interactions. You will rarely love people well by talking about the weather every time you see them. As we learn to practice deep love, beauty will emerge in new ways. First, we will find that below the surface there is a world as vast and surprising and mysterious as the ocean itself, with infinitely unexplored areas and new discoveries all the time. Knowing someone's story infinitely increases our capacity to love them. Listening to someone's hopes, fears, joys, and sorrows is a rare and special gift. And sharing our own with others is equally beautiful. We will discover things about ourselves and our sisters and brothers that change how we experience the world. Additionally, this type of love is a witness-- a beautiful invitation for others to explore the Jesus community. People will look and note that the Christians among them have a depth of care and love that is unique and compelling. To borrow the words of Jesus, everyone will know we are his disciples by our love for one another: love with a depth and fervency about it. So how will you dive in this week? Who will you show love to in a new way? Who will you pray for and encourage? To whom will you ask a great question and listen meaningfully? How will you break the surface tension? Jesus, give me a genuine love for others today, and lead me to take a step toward deeper and more meaningful interactions. Give me courage to go deeper. Peace, Keith |
|
RSS Feed