Easy

I was looking through some photos that were taken the last time I went to Mexico. In the pic, I’m having a casual conversation with a good friend of mine, as we sit on a park bench. It’s very unremarkable. But it spoke to me.

What the photo doesn’t show is that we are surrounded by dozens of kids who live in an orphanage just a few miles into Mexico. Our group had just finished feeding them dinner — burgers, chips, a can of soda, and some cookies. Not a very special meal by our standards, but an absolute feast by theirs. They rarely get meat, and to be able to have seconds is unheard of. And of course a whole can of pop to themselves is quite a treat.

So my friend and I were just relaxing as the kids ran and played all around us. I was reminded then, and am again now, of the advice of Jesus: “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed.”

None of those kids will ever invite me over to dinner at their house. I’ll never get repaid, and I don’t mind a bit. Jesus was right — I was blessed. It was a privilege to serve them. We escorted the kids through the food line, helped the little ones with their plates, and waited on the tables throughout the meal. It was easy.

Donald Miller wrote, “When you love somebody, you get pleasure from their pleasure, and it makes it easy to serve.”

So easy.

A Tale of Two Twenties

Let me tell you about two twentysomethings I encountered around Christmas. They are a study in contrasts.

The first is the nephew of a friend of mine. He was in town briefly before the holidays and my friend asked if I would talk with him, because he was interested in helping out Katrina victims. I met with him and his traveling companion. Both young men were in their early twenties, and both were excited. Continue reading “A Tale of Two Twenties”

What I believe

On every church’s web site, there’s always a statement of faith — the “what I believe” part. This isn’t a church site, but here’s what I believe. It’s from a note I wrote to my wife back in January.

I believe that I should be giving my money away now to people who need it, rather than saving it for my own future use, just in case I live so long that I can’t make money anymore and no one cares about me. I believe I shouldn’t be saving for my kids’ college education, just so they can get high-paying jobs and start saving for the time when they also are too old to make money anymore.

I believe that if my life is too noisy to listen to God, then I should take drastic measures — like quitting my job — to quiet it down.

I believe that it’s more important for me to teach my kids to recognize and obey God’s voice than to do anything else. If they succeed at that, then everything else will be given to them.

The thing is, every other Christian will say that same things. It’s the ones who actually DO it who are different. My prayer is to be someone who is different.

A Man of His Times

I was interested in what a former pastor of mine had to say about some things I had read that John Calvin had done that did not impress me. This pastor is an enthusiastic Calvinist and had recently written a tribute to Calvin, in honor of the day of his death (May 27, if you’re interested).

Now, the details of what Calvin did aren’t relevant to my discussion; my pastor’s response is what I want to focus on. His explanation, or perhaps excuse, for Calvin’s behavior is this: he was “a man of his times”.

I found this to be a surprising response. To paper over someone’s behavior with “everyone else is doing it” is hardly the defense I was expecting. Especially when dealing with a hugely popular and respected Christian patriarch (he has a whole theology named after him!), I was hoping for something a little more substantive.

Perhaps a little more about the particular incident would be helpful. I had written my pastor to ask about some oppressive practices I had read that Calvin participated in while in Geneva. His response included this statement: “People forget that virtually everyone in those days, especially those in the Roman Catholic Church, supported the execution of heretics. Calvin was a man of his times.”

Let me tell you my first response. I’d hate to be standing before the white throne on Judgment Day (assuming that’s not all some literary analogy) and tell Jesus, “everyone else was doing it.” Being a man of my times here in the 21st century is hardly a cause for boasting, and I can’t imagine it was any different in the 16th century.

Why, if I were a man of my times, what would I be doing today? Well, over 20% of us men commit adultery (some studies say 60%!). Half of us divorce. We cheat on our taxes and spend the profit on pornography. I need not go on.

I would hate to be called a man of my times. This would be the worst epitaph I can imagine. So now I’m thinking, what about my life, my morals, my behavior demonstrates that I am a man of my times? I’m afraid that these beliefs and behaviors are so much a part of me that I can’t identify them.

Here’s my hope: if I can act as much like Jesus as possible, then maybe I won’t need to worry about whether I am being a man of my times. I’ll be a man with eternity in mind, not current social custom. And perhaps, I’ll be one step ahead of John Calvin.