A Risen and Resilient Life … Thanks be to God

Our life is in union with Christ. Our lives our hidden in Christ with God (Colossians 3), and the life of Christ dwells in us. Our truest life is the life we have in communion with Christ. All the benefits of the gospel flow from our union with Christ!

Lent reminded us of our union with Christ in his death. The resurrection of Christ on Easter morning reminds us that we participate in Christ’s resurrection. His resurrection is our resurrection! The Apostle Paul puts it succinctly when he writes, “For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his” (Romans 6:5). The life we have in Christ is an eternal life, a life of participating in communion with the Father, Son and Spirit.

The basis of our confidence and assurance as a Christian believer is not how well we do. Rather our hope is anchored in the life of Christ and his resurrection that guarantees ours. We can live assured that God will protect and keep us as his children (John 10:27-28). The eternal life he gives us he also preserves within us.

It is often hard for us born and nurtured within Western individuality to grasp the significance of our union and participation in Christ. The resurrection is a grand and glorious miracle. Our faith rests upon Christ being raised from the dead. Christ’s resurrection and our faith in him usher in the miracle of participatory communion with the Trinitarian God. We are not living an isolated individual life. Ours is not an autonomous journey. We live in the staggering mystery of God’s life in us and ours in him. It is a mystery far beyond our comprehension, and yet it is the very essence of the life we have.

I have been drawn to consider the relationship between our union with Christ in his resurrection (and the comfort we have in him), and our soul’s capacity for resiliency. Resiliency is the soul’s capacity to recover from losses, disappointments, and life’s hardships. When our soul’s resiliency is underdeveloped we make categorical judgments and assert, “I’ll never get over this.” The wounded soul stays fixated in hurt and anger.

Of course there is the exaggerated other end of the spectrum and that is when a person is deeply injured or wounded, and essentially says, “Don’t worry, be happy.” This happy-go-lucky soul is self-dismissive and uses denial as a way to cope. Unfortunately, this exaggeration leaves the soul disconnected from the life it is living.

Resiliency recognizes and takes into account loss, disappointment, and hardship and, having attended to the pain involve, is able to learn and mature from deep and profound wounds. The capacity to recover, to continue on without hidden resentment and bitterness is influenced and shaped by our identification with the resurrection of Christ. Whatever happens we have life. No matter how painful life is we remain hidden in Christ with God. The more we are able to enter experientially into our communion with Christ and internalize the truth of his resurrection being our resurrection, the soul has both a power and a perspective that nurtures resiliency of heart.

Ours is a risen life and a resilient life. Thanks be to God! (Rich Plass)

Our Suffering God

As I begin to write this post on Good Friday afternoon the clock struck 3:00 . “It is finished” echoes in the air. No need to break Jesus’ legs. His last breath in which he committed himself to his Father is gone. What is left on the cross is a bleeding, leaking corpse.

Those who loved him are sad. And some of them are mad–mad with Jesus and mad with themselves. He dramatically over-promised and drastically under-delivered. His claim of being one with his heavenly Father was bogus. Their Father would never allow himself to be humiliated and crucified by anyone, much less the Romans. It was maddening to be fooled.

Indeed they were fooled! But not by Jesus; they were fooled by their understanding of God. They thought of him primarily in terms of power and glory. The Old Testament made it clear that God was sovereign and in control of all. Turns out there was a biblical reason for their gullibility.

Jesus confused them. His glory was revealed in weakness, vulnerability, and death (Mark 10:37-38). We, like the first followers, might accept his suffering and death since Jesus was totally human (“like his brothers and sisters in every respect” – Hebrews 2:17). But if Jesus is the “exact representation of the Father” (Hebrews 1:3) then he is clearly showing what the Father is truly like. And that is very hard to process or accept. How can the God of the Old Testament be so weak? He may be really hard on those who don’t obey his law but that is far better than having no one in the driver’s seat of the universe from noon to 3:00 on Good Friday.

Over the past couple of years the reality of the crucified Jesus being the image of the invisible God has challenged my thinking in many ways. First, I’ve wondered if it is true. It appears I’ve found an ally in Martin Luther. He was adamant that Christians not have “one kind of Christ” and another “kind of God (Father).” If we do that we “miss the true God who does not will to be found and grasped any place else than in this Christ.” No wonder Jesus told the religious rulers who didn’t like him that they did not know his Father (John 8).

What is the significance of a God who is perfectly revealed in a dying Jesus? One writer summarized it this way, “There is a kind of power in a God who whispers.” Could it be that what our souls really need (but don’t want) is a “smaller” God who does not deliver us from our suffering but is with us in our suffering because he has suffered “in the likeness of sinful flesh?”

Only a God who has become one of us can redeem and heal each of us. Or as Bonhoffer put it, “The Bible directs man to God’s powerlessness and suffering; only the suffering God can help.” We instinctively know this to be true. Parents who have lost a child find what they need from other parents who have experienced the same.

On this Good Friday may we have ears to hear and eyes to see the mystery of a suffering God. It is only such a God who can redeem and renew our fear-filled, shame-laden, and guilt-ridden souls. Our transformation can grow only out of the soil of God’s suffering.

Tornados, Suffering, and God

A few days ago my wife and I watched a local news channel as they tracked the tornados in southern Indiana. At one point we were told we had 8 minutes before a twister would hit our small town. The thought of being in the path of destruction naturally scared us.

The tornado didn’t hit our house. But it did hit and destroy many other homes just a few miles from us. While we were thankful we were spared we were deeply saddened for those whose lives were impacted in such a profound way.

Two days later the first song of Sunday worship was All Creatures of Our God and King. The second verse caught my attention:

Thou rushing wind that art so strong
Ye clouds that sail in Heaven along,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou rising moon, in praise rejoice,
Ye lights of evening, find a voice!

How does the “rushing wind” of a tornado “praise Him?” While singing I reflected on an interview with an elderly man whose house had been leveled. “The wind was the amazing power of the Lord!” Yes, I thought, but that wind caused a lot of destruction and even death.

I confess I think in terms of outcome when it comes to praising God. When something ‘good’ happens praise is easy for me. When the outcome is very different it is difficult. Is this because I am too self-centered and make my judgments on the basis of human health and happiness? What am I to think when the “amazing power of the Lord” leaves a path of death?

I want a faith that implicitly trusts God no matter what happens to me. I hope I do, but my house was not leveled. No one in my family died.

It is easy to be an ‘armchair’ theologian. But I hope I can live into the words of Henri Nouwen when he wrote, “Ordinary suffering will not be taken away, nor the suffering we must face when we bear witness to God’s love and are met with the world’s hostility and scorn [e.g. "How could a loving God who supposedly controls the wind orchestrate a tornado which harms people?"]. But our suffering will have meaning, will be lifted up, transformed by the unceasing love of God” (from Henri Nouwen: Writings Selected with an Introduction by Robert A. Jones).

In other words, I pray I can sing and mean the last verse of All Creatures of Our God and King.

Let all things their Creator bless,
And worship Him in humbleness,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Praise, praise the Father, praise the Son,
And praise the Spirit, Three in One!

“Reality Distortion Field”

Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson was hard to put down. The story is compelling, inspiring, and sometimes disturbing. He often treated people poorly in his drive for perfection. Yet his intuition, intensity, and focus created a brave new technological world.

In describing how he was able to create an amazing future, colleagues spoke of his “Reality Distortion Field.” Steve refused to be controlled by what was real in the present. He saw another reality and, through either charm or coercion, pushed his company toward it.

While reading about Steve I was also spending time in the Book of Hebrews. The difference was staggering. Steve focused on creating a perfect product. The saints in Hebrews were focused on perfecting their faith in the midst of very difficult trials. Though the stories are VERY different a common theme struck me—both Steve and the saints lived in light of a strong reality distortion field.

If the saints were to remain faithful to Christ despite terrible suffering (see Hebrews 10:32-39) they would have to focus on a future very different from their present. They would have to see the Author and Finisher of their faith (Hebrews 12:2) in a compelling way. They would have to enter Christ’s “Reality Distortion Field.” He is the ultimate change agent. Because of Who He is and what He has done our present reality morphs into something so good we have a hard time imaging it.

If the way things are in this present world is all we see, if our sin and our struggles are our focus, we will remain in a reality that ultimately has little to offer. But as we come under the influence of Christ’s distorted reality field we will live into a different future. He distorts our present reality with forgiveness and an eternal future. He gives us a different way of “being” because He offers Himself to us. Because we are IN CHRIST the way we think, feel, evaluate, and behave is being transformed from that which we find in the world to what we find in Him.

“Let us run with endurance the race that God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, on whom our faith depends from start to finish” (from Hebrews 12:1 & 2, NLT).

“Falling in Lent”

Have you noticed the danger inherent in the phrase, “falling in love?” I like the love part, but not the “falling” part. I’ve taken some really bad spills as a kid and as an adult. Winding up bloody and bruised is no fun. Couldn’t there be a better term than “falling” to symbolize the beauty and excitement of romantic love?

The answer is ‘no’. Falling is exactly the imagery needed for this transcendent experience. Why? Because the mystery of love requires losing our balance. It requires relinquishing control. It demands the vulnerability opening our soul to another.

That is exactly what Lent is asking of us as well. In this season we are invited to intentionally relinquish the well-ordered life which our ego has established. We are summoned to be vulnerable to the reality of our own brokenness. We are asked to see anew our own failures and fall on our face because of it.

“Falling in Lent” is as mysterious as falling in love. Because here we can find ourselves overwhelmed by the presence of the One who loves us more than we will ever know. As we fall to the ground in the humility which comes from our fallen mortality the Lover of our soul picks us up and holds us closely.

Unfortunately, Lent can become a time which nurtures spiritual pride. If our focus is on what we have given up, or even on the fact that we have given something up, we would be better off indulging. Maybe that would humble us enough to fall in Lent.

Recovering from Burnout

Note:  This is the third post in a three part series on Burnout. The first is Tired of Burnout and second is Relief from Burnout.

The state of our soul involves many things. One of the most critical factors seems to be burnout. Many good people who know and believe good theology find themselves in tall weeds because of physical, emotional, and spiritual exhausted. Deep fatigue has left them vulnerable so that their souls are at risk.

Why do we find ourselves so desperately tired? In part the answer lies with our compulsions to do more than we are capable of doing in a healthy way. We are driven by something deep within which leaves little space for the nurture of our being. As we noted in a previous blog, our compulsions are in service of addressing our exaggerated fear, shame, and guilt. If we are going to live more from our calling as Christians than our compulsions we must engage the disciplines of retreat and recalibration.

Retreat means giving intentionality to rest and reflection. Hopefully, we do that on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis. Recalibration involves a shift in our habitual and compulsive way of being a “me” which lead to burnout.

What needs to be recalibrated? There are three critical areas.

1)      My Primary Relationships

The capacity for appropriate relational intimacy must deepen. The ability to be present and to nurture one’s most significant relationships must shift.

2)      My Deep Emotions

What we think matters, but what is happening emotionally within us matters just as much. Many of us are uncomfortable with emotions of anger, sadness, envy, jealousy because they don’t fit our idealized expectation of who we should be. However, WHATEVER EMOTIONS WE DISOWN WILL END UP OWNING US.

3)      My Source of Identity

The source of my identity is anchored in Christ or in an image forged from the demanding voices of my compulsions and expectations of others. This is why some of us work too much. Our identity is found in our activity, our successful performance. But ultimately, this proves exhausting because activity is never enough of a foundation and source for our identity.

HOW are these areas recalibrated?

1)      Spiritual Disciplines

Three disciplines are indispensable—Solitude and Silence, Scripture, and Prayer. But how you engage these may themselves need to be recalibrated. For example, we must BE READ by Scripture and not simply read it for what we think it might mean. Our prayer must shift from a lot of words to include a lot of listening.

2)      Spiritual Coach

Everyone needs someone who is down the road in age and life experience. We need a wounded healer who will walk with us. We need someone who has a clear and realistic understanding of the terrain of the soul. We need a spiritual coach who will help put our compulsions in the back seat of the car so that our calling and communion with Christ is driving our soul.

3)  Spiritual Friends

We must be willing to be known by others who have our best interest at heart and have the time to listen. We cannot change on our own.  

Burnout puts the soul at risk and that is serious business (“What will it profit a person if one gains the whole world but loses their own soul?”). Retreat and Recalibration help anchor the soul in our identity in Christ and our calling. They help diffuse the energy of our compulsions around exaggerated fear, shame, and guilt. Remember, whatever else you are doing, the state of your soul matters more.

Relief from Burnout

Note: This is the second post in a three part series on Burnout. The first article was Tired of Burnout.

As Christians, what we do in life is driven by our calling or by our compulsions. Usually, it is a combination of both! We believe and sense God has gifted and called us to fulfill the many responsibilities we have in our family and vocation. We do our best but often find Jesus’ promise of an “easy yoke and light burden” to be elusive. We are desperately fatigued. Why?

As noted in Tired of Burnout there are seasons and situations in life which truly are exhausting (e.g. dealing with a severe illness). But sometimes we find ourselves deeply tired because we have tried to do more than we should over a long period of time. We have been under the control of our compulsions more than God’s calling. In our attempt to deal with exaggerated fear or shame or guilt we have come to the end of our rope.

A compulsive work ethic is one of the ways exaggerated shame or fear or guilt manifests itself. Exaggerated emotions drive compulsive behaviors which drain our souls of energy. When we do that long enough our compulsions become self-fulfilling prophecies (e.g. we are so exhausted that we are now REALLY afraid!).

Whatever else you’re doing, your state of soul matters more. In other words, the most important thing you bring to life is your transformed and transforming presence. What you are doing is not as important as who you are and who you are becoming.

The nature of your presence and character rests on your actual experience of communion with Christ. IT IS THE REAL AND REPEATED EXPERIENCE OF CHRIST’S PRESENCE WHICH TRANSFORMS YOUR PRESENCE. It is the conscious presence of Christ which anchors you in your calling and frees you from your compulsions.

How then do we open ourselves to the presence of Christ? Two disciplines are critical.

1)      Retreat

Retreat means having space in your schedule where you pull away from the fray of the battle. We must develop a rhythm of time and space where we intentionally step back from the demands of life so that we can consciously step into the loving presence of our Lord. Even Jesus was willing to live with the limits of His humanity. Yet He still was able to say at the end, “I have finished the work You (my Father) gave me to do.”

When you step back you are seeking to cultivate two things—rest and reflection. In other words, there are times when you are intentionally taking a physical and emotional break. And there are also times when you are intentionally reflecting on your life.

If at all possible make your rhythm of retreat daily, weekly, and monthly. During the day, step away. Start in the morning with a few minutes spent before Christ in quietness. Do it again in the middle of the day by taking a short break (if you are driving, turn the radio off and be aware of the presence of Christ). A weekly retreat means at least one day where you spend a couple hours to “waste” time having fun at something you enjoy doing knowing God delights in your creativity and rest. A monthly time of retreat may mean a few hours spent in solitude and silence.

Without a rhythm of retreat you will end up dangerously tired and at risk for burnout because the soul cannot sustain constant demands, tensions, and pressures of life without it. 

2) Recalibrating

In additon to retreat we must attend to the discipline of the recalibration of our souls. My way of being a “me” needs to shift. My habitual ways of feeling, thinking, evaluating, and behaving must be recalibrated if I am going to avoid being driven by my compulsions. My soul must be changed in its approach to life so that my calling is the driver more than my compulsions. 

When we speak of recalibration we need to know two things. First, WHAT to recalibrate. Second, HOW to recalibrate.

In part three of the series on Burnout we will speak to these issues.

Tired of Burnout

Many good men and women are emotionally, physically, and spiritually “fried.” Exhausted and facing chronic fatigue, they find themselves in the Southwest airlines commercial—wanting to get away. And fast!

Here are seven signs of burnout.

     1)  Inner restlessness with an underlying sense of anxiety which leads to a defensive, angry spirit

     2)  Deep emotional weariness leading to obsessive or scattered thoughts

     3)  The waning of relational intimacy and a growing fantasy world (especially as it relates to our sexuality)

     4)  Numbness of soul so that people become tedious to us and we haven’t the internal energy to give attention to their deepest needs

     5)  Feelings of boredom, melancholy, and depression in response to a growing hopelessness

     6)  We pretend … we live more into our image than our true sense of identity with God

     7)  Our spiritual practices are at best random and replaced by life’s demands so that our spiritual life has a serious lack of enthusiasm and love for Christ

Why is it that we find ourselves burned out? Why the exhaustion and fatigue which leaves our souls vulnerable? Sometimes it is because of factors outside us which seem beyond our control (e.g. a severe illness in the family; overwhelming financial pressure because of the loss of a job). But sometimes our souls are at risk because of what is happening within us. Simply put, we become desperately tired because our compulsion to do more leaves little time and energy to nurture our souls.

Why do our compulsions exhaust us? The core problem which drives our compulsions is our struggle to deal with three exaggerated emotions—fear, shame, and guilt.

Fear – We fear we won’t measure up.  We fear we are not competent enough.  We fear losing face.  We fear being compared to someone else. We fear we will miss out on something good and important. We fear we won’t be able to maintain the success we have enjoyed. We fear our kids won’t turn out the way we hoped. And whatever our fear is, it becomes exaggerated to the point of fueling our compulsions to do more and more. Eventually, we find ourselves tired to the bone. 

Shame – We live holding deep within us that we are not quite adequate.  Something deep within us is defective.  We believe God has accepted us in Christ. We embrace a righteousness that comes by faith.  We believe it is all about grace, but deep within us is an inordinate level of shame—that we don’t have what it takes.  So we are driven by our compulsion to prove to ourselves we are really o.k. 

Guilt – We have a belief system that speaks to our guilt. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ. But we still act as if enough is never enough. We are addicted to thinking, and feeling that we have to do more. The compulsion driving us is the demanding voice of false guilt. The truth is the demands of life never end. There is always more to do and a holy reason for doing more. However, exaggerated guilt means we cannot rest in what we have done even if it was enough.

 Whatever else you’re doing, your state of soul matters more. In other words, the most important thing you bring to life is your transformed and transforming presence. What you are doing is not as important as who you are and who you are becoming.

If you resonated with more than three signs of burnout you may consider slowing down enough to reflect on how you got there. The compulsions which have left you exhausted are fueled by exaggerated fear, shame, and guilt. Ask God to give you an awareness of soul which allows you to see what is happening deep within.

In Part 2 in the series on burnout we will offer a couple of suggestions for renewal.

Solitude and Silence

The soul’s formation in Christ is our most significant endeavor. It requires us to attend to the realities, capacities, and needs of the soul in relational terms. When we do so we realize that our souls are “relationally permeable.” In our relationships we absorb the presence of others. This is why our family of origin had such a substantial role in shaping the way we perceive, process, and present ourselves in relationships. We learned a way of “being a me” in order to meet the five foundational needs of security, affirmation, control, significance, and competence. Our family of origin established for us our first emotional understanding of “normal” in relationships.

We believe Christian soul formation must take into account these early influences. Alan Jones describes this growth in awareness as “waking up.” We awaken to who, what, and how we were first formed in our earliest relationships. This is often not simply an enlightening experience. It can be painful and scary. As a result people often want to know what to do as they become aware of things. When faced with the question, “What do I do now?” the most important thing is to simply attend to what you are noticing.  This is why the disciplines of solitude and silence is so important.

Solitude and silence are the disciplines which provide the space and stillness needed to listen deeply to our soul and the voice of God. Without the capacity to quiet and still the soul the Christian life becomes pretty much a journey of spiritualizing our neurotic and compulsive tendencies in order to feel safe. Deep, substantial soul transformation calls for stillness before God, and a quiet listening to God. Our desire to do the next step is indicative of our compulsiveness to act. Often when we prematurely start “doing” we attempt to resolve issues within our souls by the very same ways of thinking, feeling, and behaving which created the difficulties and dilemmas in the first place.

Solitude and silence are the means by which God can speak into the deepest terrain of our soul. After all, we believe the work of transforming our souls is the work of the Holy Spirit. Solitude and silence are disciplines that foster the soul’s trust of the Spirit’s presence and His work of transformation. He has begun a good work in us, and He will bring it to completion.

As a Christian, don’t worry so much about what is next; rather intentionally seek to be attentive to the presence of God within you. Grow in your perception and realization that your life is held in Christ, and that you live in union with the Triune God. That will be enough for now!

Surprised by the Shepherds

Sunday was the first Sunday of Advent, the 4 weeks of preparation for the celebration of the coming of Jesus. Luke 2 records the appearance of angels to shepherds who, in turn, told everyone who would listen what they had heard and seen.

Using shepherds as the first spokespersons of the One who brings peace on earth is instructive. Meditating on the implications serves to prepare our hearts in Advent.

Two things surprise me about the shepherds being God’s choice to ‘advertise’ the coming of the Savior. First, shepherds were the last group in that society who would be considered credible. Religiously, they could not participate in worship because they were usually ceremonially unclean (when they touched dead animals). Socially, they were outcast because they tended to disregard the property rights of others (they often stole things while grazing their flocks on land that belonged to others). Legally, they could not serve as witnesses in a court of law (because they were considered unreliable).

That is the group that God used as witnesses to the birth of Jesus? Surprising to say the least! I can see how the wisemen were good witnesses because of the respect they commanded. But shepherds? Since God used shepherds then in seems that ALL of us are invited to be spokespersons of what we have heard and seen in Jesus. Our short-comings and failures are no excuse for being silent.

The second thing that strikes me goes even deeper. Somehow the shepherds were the very kind of people who could speak authentically of the core reality of the Good News. The Good News of the life and death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus matches the ‘upside-down’ life of the shepherds. The Good News says the poor in spirit are given the kingdom of God, those who mourn receive comfort, the meek inherit the earth. The upside-down message of the Gospel is that grace freely flows to those who least deserve it, that mercy is showered on those who embrace their brokenness, that forgiveness cannot be earned but only received by faith.

In short, the Good News the shepherds so effectively shared (“all who heard them were astonished”) makes it clear that it is in dying that we are raised to a new kind of life, that it is in surrender of our ‘old self’ that we are able to live into our ‘new, true self’, that in pardoning we are pardoned. Upside-down people are exactly the right group to proclaim this upside-down message!

I am surprised by the shepherds. Somehow they and the message they made known prepares my heart to celebrate the birth of my Messiah by sharing the message considered by many to be ‘foolish’ (1 Corinthians 1:18-25) even though I am flawed like them.