Conversation #8 – What is my unique contribution to the whole?

Talk about a hard question to answer…the others to this point have been ones that could be more at a distance – reflections upon more external issues, but with some measure of an internal.  This one is more focused on me and the ways that I have been created, gifted, the experiences I have gained, and how I share these things.  For me, I think the primary thing that I hope is that I am contributing to the whole.  I want to live in such a way as there is purpose in what I am doing and meaning in what I do – whether that is as a follower of Jesus, as a husband, as a father, as a friend, as a pastor.  One of the central passages of the Bible for me comes from Jeremiah 29:11 – “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

For me, this passage says that as God has laid out these plans, I need to seek to live in similar ways to bring about the welfare of others and to bring about healing and wholeness and not harm and ultimately to focus on the hope that there is beyond this life.  I think some of the things I am able to bring to that contribution is an ability to listen well (at least most of the time), an ability to see beyond the present, an openness to new ideas, a compassionate spirit, and a calming presence.  There are definitely other things, but those are the big ones that I have experienced in myself and have been affirmed by others along the journey.

As I thought about this, I also thought of a very significant hour of TV Amy and I watched several years ago.  There was a TV show, Ed (ironically enough) that we watched in the first few years of our marriage and one of the episodes the first season was entitled, “Live Deliberately” and it contrasted the life of trying to do everything versus a focus on simplicity and core ideals.  The episode was centered upon Thoreau’s quote from Walden:

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion

Here’s the ending reflection of the episode upon that quote and Ed’s journey up the local mountain at the end…

To me, there is a profound call for us in this call to live deliberately and to live fully.  I guess, moving beyond just the lists and talents, etc, I hope that my contribution is helping people to live their lives in the fullest sense, experiencing and sharing the fullness of God, and the fullness of relationships with one another.

Conversation #2 – What is my faith in the future?

Word of warning…this is going to be somewhat rambling and probably not well-proofed.  Its about 1030pm on a Saturday night prior to a Sunday where I am preaching about sin.  Yes, I should probably be in bed, but this question has been bouncing around in my head all day today and I know that it will continue to bounce around even if I do try to get to sleep right now.  So, here goes.

When I think about the future, I cannot help but go to the same passage I referred to in my initial post on this book – from Jeremiah 29:11 – “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

As I think about the future, I cannot help but think about it through the lens of those words.  There are definitely things that happen in the world, in my life, in the lives of others that sometimes make me struggle with those words, especially where Jeremiah speaks of “plans for your welfare and not for harm.”  I can think of lots of faithful people who have dealt with harmful circumstances in their lives and I wonder what the plan is in the midst of those circumstances and events.

Yet still, I do hold onto and have a faith in the future.  I have a faith in the future because of two things.  God.  People.

How can I have a belief and a trust in God if I do not believe that there is some larger something at work here?  If God is only for me to feel better about my life today or that God is some kind of divine self-help guru, then its not much toward the future.  Having faith in God and faith in the future because of God does not mean that I never wrestle with some of the larger issues at work.  It means that I go into the future holding tightly to the hand of God while still continually asking the question, “God, help me understand….”  Jeremiah was prophecying to a group of people facing potentially the end of their lives and he offers them “For I know the plans…”  I wonder how they reacted to his words.  He has also spent time prior to this speaking to living for the present day – telling them to build homes in exile, to marry, to seek the welfare of the place where they were.  To me, there are strong echoes in what Jesus says later about the lilies of the field – his words are not only about the present day, but also beyond.  Jeremiah 29:7 concludes with these words, “for in its welfare you will find your welfare” as he is speaking of their exile.  To paraphrase…maybe in the welfare of the present, we find the welfare for the future.

People – For as much as I have struggle with confidence in extra-ordinary people (politicians, public figures, sports starts, and so forth), I continue to have the greatest faith in ordinary people.  Ordinary people who wake up in the morning, eat a bowl of cereal for breakfast, are late heading out the door, whose clothes aren’t pressed perfectly, who have to juggle about 15 different schedules, who arrive home late at night only to remember they have a commitment to serve at their church that evening, who work incredibly hard in that time away from home, and then return home in time to kiss a child goodnight or to make a phone call to a dear friend who needs to talk to someone.  Ordinary people are why I have a faith in the future.  I work with people everyday here at PCW and in Wyoming who are ordinary people doing extraordinary things.  People who balance what feels like 1000 things in their lives, but yet find time to help a child with homework, to pick up trash that didn’t make it into the garbage can, who take a can home with them to recycle instead of leaving it to go in a landfill, who witness to their faith by deed and by word, and so on and so on.

As some of you know, I am wrapping up a pretty rough week tonight.  The list is way too lengthy to go into.  But as I am getting ready to head to bed (so I can wake up somewhat refreshed in time to preach tomorrow morning), I am reminded that through it all, I have encountered some pretty extraordinary ordinary people this week and many of them doing it in service of the God who I have centered my life upon.  I am not going to name each of these people, but those of you whom I worked with this week, you know who you are.  Some of those people are ones who will read this tonight and some will never come across these words.  Some are people I’ll see tomorrow morning, some are people I might not see again.  While not every issue is resolved from this past week, I do close this week out with a strong sense of faith in the future – in a future in service of a God I have come to know through the person of Jesus of Nazareth and in people who humble me in so many ways.

Turning to One Another: A review

I am in one of my book manic modes.  I go in cycles of reading.  Some times I read a ton, some times I feel like it has been a year since I opened one.  Well, I am in one of those where I can’t get enough of the printed word.  I just finished a book that my dear wife gave me several months ago entitled, Turning to One Another: Simple Conversations to Restore Hope to the Future by Margaret Wheatley.  I had previously read Wheatley’s Leadership and the New Science, so I was a bit surprised by the content of this book.  It is a very different read.  It does not mean that’s a bad thing, but it is a very different book.  Wheatley’s book is a wonderful encouraging read in that it does help to get the reader thinking about how having hope in the future is a conscious act.  In the midst of stories of earthquakes, economic challenges, partisan gridlock, and so forth, it is very easy to live in fear and hopelessness.  Wheatley reminds us of the necessity of looking to the future with hopeful eyes about what is possible and what can be changed and how we have a role as a part of that hopeful future.

The book is not a “normal” book in that you simply read it cover to cover and put it away.  Instead, she provides ways for people to start a conversation about the topics at hand and encourages people to read these together and work through them together.  She begins with words about what it means to turn to one another as she focuses on the art of listening – how to listen, how to talk, how to be courageous in sharing, and how to listen with a willingness to be changed by the encounter with the other(s).

The main section of the book are the areas of conversation and she offers ten questions to consider…

• Do I feel a vocation to be fully human?
• What is my faith in the future?
• What do I believe about others?
• What am I willing to notice in my world?
• When have I experienced good listening?
• Am I willing to reclaim time to think?
• What is the relationship I want with the earth?
• What is my unique contribution to the whole?
• When have I experienced working for the common good?
• When do I experience sacred?

As I read these questions and the thoughts Wheatley offers from her own perspective, I began to think about a series of posts that I will do over the coming weeks/months on these topics.  It won’t be every week, but I am going to consider my own answers to each of these and invite you to be a part of the conversation.

Wheatley’s thesis of the book is stated simply and succinctly…”We can change the world if we just start listening to one another again.”

As I read Wheatley’s words, I am reminded of one of my core Scripture passages for my life – Jeremiah 29:11

For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.

Amen.

The light that shines in the darkness

I am going to be thinking a lot this week about light and not just because I am hoping that the sun will come out and warm things up a bit (although that would be nice).  This week, we are continuing our series on the different parts of what it means to grow in Christ with this week’s focus being on the light / sun.  For plants to grow, sun is necessary.   While water helps the roots grow in the soil, the sun helps the plant to grow up and out (yes this is a gross oversimplification – I know that sun helps the roots and water helps the above-ground growth, but go with me here…  ).  The sun also helps in the photosynthesis process in helping the plant take in carbon dioxide and to convert it to oxygen.  I’ll probably post more about this later in the week, but I got thinking today about light shining in the darkness and how things that we hold in the dark often cannot stay there because light will shine in.

I thought about that as I read yet another story today about Tiger Woods.  I am not going to rip Tiger at this point because clearly that’s been done many times.  In fact, I am thankful for the many other posts I have read recently about the hope that this experience will help Tiger turn a different corner in his life.  But where this connects here is that so much of what has come out has been things that have lived in the shadows and the light has broken in.  That which is hidden will not always stay so.

The Mark McGuire story today got me thinking in a similar vein.  While there were suspicions all the way along that his physique and power during his home run chase were not 100% natural, it was not “official” until he released his statement today about admitting steroid use.  While I was glad to finally hear this admission from him (and hopefully from others during that era of baseball), I was saddened to read the sentence in his statement which read, “I wish I had never played during the steroid era.”  The temptation was apparently too great for him and he gave in.

These (like so many “big” stories) are about when light shines in and ones’ world comes crashing down.  Tiger Woods’ and Mark McGuire’s reputations will never be the same after what has transpired in the recent past for each.  But the reality is that the light does not have to be one that breaks people and destroys reputations.  For me, the light of Christ is that which has not only shone into the dark places of my life (and continues to shine into those places), but also is the light that leads me towards a different path.  It is the light that illumines my way, it is the light that others pull me along into, its the light that I seek to draw others along, its the light that brings hope, reconciliation, and life.

Which returns me to the plant.  A plant’s process is never done.  Until it dies, the plant is continually in the cycle of sun, moisture, growth, taking in CO2, sending out oxygen, and so forth.  So it is with us.  The light continues to shine, darkness continues to be revealed, light shines the path, and so forth.