On Swimming with Alligators.


I once knew a young man who desperately wanted to go swimming. He found a little spot that seemed ideal. What he didn’t realize was that alligators infested the water. I tried to warn him that swimming in that particular pond was a bad idea.

He told me to stop being so judgmental.

This story never actually happened but illustrates a problem we have in our society: No one wants to be told anything that goes against what they have already set their mind on.

We have made up our minds. We have followed our hearts. We don’t care what you say. So stop judging me.

Now, do we have a judging problem in the world and in the church? Absolutely. Maybe we can address that in a future post. We must recognize that there is a difference between being judgmental and being concerned for a person’s welfare.

One is rooted in pride and/or self-righteousness. One is rooted in love.

If I told the young man who was swimming that he was an idiot for thinking he could swim in that pond, that would be judgmental. If I told him he was unwelcome at my church because we don’t like alligator swimmers, that would be judgmental. If I thought I was better than him because I don’t swim in ponds like that, that’d be judgmental.

Warning him that the water is full of legitimate danger is not judgmental.

We have somehow come to believe that whatever we want to do is a good idea because, well, we thought of it. We are seldom, if ever, wrong and we really don’t like being second guessed. “Follow your heart,” we hear. “Do whatever feels right.”

Except those sayings are terrible advice. They are not helpful, nor are they healthy. Thinking like this will just get us eaten by alligators.

Whether we care to admit it or not, sometimes we do things that are not in the best interest of ourselves or others. Sometimes we are shortsighted. Sometimes our priorities get out of alignment. Sometimes we are just ill-informed. Sometimes our heart leads us astray.

We have all been there. We have all done things that come back to bite us or cause us pain or wound others. None of us are immune. It has happened before and it will happen again.

We need people to help us when these things approach. We need people who can speak the truth into our lives. We need not be defensive. We need not feel judged.

Yes, warnings and concerns need to be spoken lovingly. And sure, we won’t always agree on which things are dangerous. But we need voices that we trust to speak into our lives when we can’t see clearly. Or when we don’t even realize we aren’t seeing clearly.

I have seen and experienced and caused destruction because I was unable to notice or too ignorant to care that the water I was swimming in was full of predators. I have seen marriages destroyed, futures derailed, fortunes lost, because what a heart wanted in one moment was the very thing that would devour it in the next.

Tim Keller says, “We would never imagine that getting our heart’s deepest desires might be the worst thing that can ever happen to us.”

We can do better. We can rely on each other. We can listen, even when we don’t agree. We can pause and take into account what the people who love us think. We can seek outside counsel. We can search for truth and knowledge. We can be okay with people calling out to us in warning.

We need each other to make it through this thing called life. We need each other’s stories and experiences and lessons learned. We need to hear, really hear, what others are saying to us. “I’ve tried to swim in that very pond and let me tell you, that is not the place you want to be swimming in.”

I won’t let my kids swim where there are actual alligators. It has nothing to do with controlling their behavior and everything to do with keeping them safe. Boundaries will help keep them from being eaten alive. And if the first few years of parenting have taught me anything, it is that they won’t always appreciate those boundaries.

What I hope they understand long after they are old enough to decide which ponds to swim in on their own, is that my intentions were for their good. I hope they will always come to me knowing that my advice or rebuke or encouragement comes from a place of love and not judgement.

I hope I am mature enough and self-aware enough to listen for those voices in my life. To not reject concern or write it off as judgement just because it goes against what I want in that moment. I hope the people around me love me enough to speak up when I go dipping my toes in gator infested water. I hope I can hear the love in their voices when they call out.

Let’s allow others to help us. Let’s reject the idea that we always know what is best for ourselves. Let’s give people permission to hold us accountable. Let’s stop learning lessons the hard way. Let’s listen when people warn us that we are swimming in dangerous waters. For when they do it’s not judgement, it’s love.

The Politics of Palm Sunday

The masses were in a near frenzy on what would become known as Palm Sunday.

After centuries of oppression, abuse, displacement, corruption, and disgrace, they were finally hopeful. After being forced to pay taxes to pagan Caesar and shuffling past Roman guards on the way to the Temple, they were angry. After watching friends and neighbors turn their backs on the nation and their faith in pursuit of a buck or some political position, they were fed up.

On that Sunday the stories of a coming savior swept through the crowd. Could this finally be the promised one? Could he overthrow the bad guys? Could he restore our nation?

The people lined the streets as Jesus came in. They waved palm leaves, a symbol of military victory. They laid their cloaks on the ground and cheered. Longing for liberation, they threw him a conqueror’s parade in anticipation of what was to come. The people stood and shouted “Hosanna!” which means “Save us now!”

The crowds were ready, but they were ready for all the wrong things. They were ready for war and political gain. Ready for revenge. Ready to expel their enemies. They were ready for power. Wealth. Vindication.

But they weren’t ready for Jesus. Six short days later they would move from “Hosanna! Save us now!” to “Crucify him!” Jesus wasn’t the savior they were looking for after all.

Sometimes I wonder if we have failed to learn the lesson here. We seem to want the same things the crowd wanted. We still want a savior that looks more like Caesar than Jesus. We want strength and might. We want power and prosperity. We want the bad guys to pay. We have a thirst for political and cultural significance.

And, like them, I’m not sure we are ready for Jesus. We aren’t ready for his command to love our enemies. We aren’t ready to welcome the stranger. We aren’t ready to turn the other cheek, go the extra mile, or give to those who accuse us.

Too often we prefer stallions to donkeys, vengeance to mercy, power to servanthood. We applaud brashness and ego, while ignoring meekness and humility. We think it soft not to return evil for evil. And loving our neighbor as ourselves isn’t really the American dream so we focus on what is in it for us.

We, like those crowded on the street that day, are looking for the wrong kind of king and the wrong kind of kingdom.

Jesus isn’t interested in making Judea great again. His platform is not based popular opinion or national security. He is interested in a world that looks a whole lot different than one we see before us now.

A world where lions and lambs lay down together. Where swords are beaten into plow blades. He desires a world that isn’t divided by geography or nationality or culture. A world full of justice and peace. A world without selfishness.

It is a different kind of Kingdom led by a different kind of King. A King who lays down his life for his enemies. A King who carries our shame and guilt, our destruction and our death. A King who doesn’t do it for votes or donations or favors, but out of love and grace and selflessness.

This is a King who doodles in the sand rather than draw lines in it. He rejects “us and them” thinking. This is a King who is attracted to the lowlifes, the tarnished, the untouchable. He didn’t have the best of anything because he gave up his privilege and comfort. This is a King who lays down his rights, not demands them.

I’m not sure we are ready for a King like that. Because this King asks us, repeatedly, to follow his example. To have a King like that means letting go of all the things we naturally find ourselves fighting for. It means swearing allegiance to something broader than national boundaries and political parties. It means saying “no” to ourselves and being willing to forsake our own privilege and comfort and rights.

And it’s a hard sell. It doesn’t drive the masses into a tizzy. No one is outside hawking t-shirts and ball caps. There isn’t 24/7 news coverage. This kind of campaign seldom gets a parade or endorsements from movers and shakers. And yet it is exactly the kind of campaign we need.

May we remember that the crowds missed it that day. May we remember that their desire to have things set right looked a whole lot different than what God had in mind. May we not get caught up in the wrong things: anger, bitterness, division, violence, and a quest for power.

And may we not miss the man on the donkey who came to save the world from the very things we are chasing after.

Hosanna. Save us now, indeed.

On Responsibly Using the Internet

Internet User

source: chunk251.rssing.com

I have a love/hate relationship with the internet. It puts vast knowledge at our fingertips, keeps us connected to people around the world, and gives us a voice we may not otherwise be able to share.

At the same time it is easy for the internet, social media in particular, to become a place where the underside of humanity is put on display. It doesn’t take very long to come across things that don’t contribute to the good of society. With that in mind, here are a few guidelines we can all use to keep ourselves in check and make our internet experience less aggravating, less discouraging, and more helpful to us all.

[On what authority do I offer these guidelines? None. I speak as an expert in doing and saying stupid things and getting really worked up over very small issues.]

1) Don’t share things that are not true. This is called lying. Just because a photo or meme or quote agrees with your opinions does not make it true. Before you click “Share,” check the source. Is it reputable? Do an 8 second Google search. Most stats and stories can be verified or debunked quite quickly. Believe it or not, not everything on the internet is true (Bonjour!). It hurts your credibility when you share things that are false and when those things are about a person or group or political position it adds to an unhealthy polarization that has developed in our culture. When in doubt, don’t share. The world will keep right on spinning.

2) Be tactful. Sitting behind our screens has made some of us think we are pretty tough and others of us forget the whole “treat others the way you want to be treated” thing. We are quick to point out everyone else’s flaws and act like a bunch of playground bullies. We are dealing with real people with real feelings. If you wouldn’t say it to a person’s face, it doesn’t need to be said online. And some things that you would say in person especially don’t need said in a public forum. Just because you think it doesn’t mean it needs to be said. Use a filter. Be kind. Be thoughtful. Be considerate. Use your manners for crying out loud. I feel like we learned these lessons in kindergarten but maybe we need a refresher. This is how civilized people behave.

3) You don’t have to engage everyone who disagrees with you. This one is hard for me. It is easy to feel as if it’s our job to correct every wrong opinion we come across. As if we are some sort of keyboard crusader protecting the masses from the danger of not thinking like us. Usually our efforts are fruitless. When is the last time your opinions changed because someone pointed out how incorrect you were on Facebook? I am all for healthy dialogue and debate, but we don’t need to always be on the prowl. We should learn to be okay with people being wrong disagreeing with us. Maybe sometimes we can just keep our thoughts to ourselves. It’s not the end of the world, we are not always right, and there are better ways to spend our time. (I am going to reread what I just wrote there.)

There are probably a lot more guidelines we could discuss (feel free to add some in the comments), but let’s work on these three for now. If we can pause our fingers long enough to avoid these pitfalls, social media will be a much better place and my blood pressure will go down. The world, not just the internet, will be more truthful, more polite, and a little more enjoyable as well.