Plato's Cave

Just started a new book, Homesick for Eden. In the first chapter, in order to set up his premise, the author refers to a video he saw in seminary, Plato's Cave. Mind you, this is a video that his instructor has to set up a reel to reel projector to show. Yet, by the miracle of the internet, I was able to find it in seconds on YouTube. A million thanks to whoever took the time and had the skill to convert this old video made of a conversation from Plato's Republic.

I found it to be a powerful allegory of the spiritual life. For now, I'll post it without comment. Share your thoughts and reactions with me; more on this video will definitely follow.

Merry Christmas.

New Math

One of the unique ways that God has crafted me is that He made me a mathematician. Good at sorting through all the information and constructing an argument or proof. Back in the day (wow, I am getting old), all it would take is a walk across campus for the seemingly disconnected pieces to fall together. I'd have a study group just so I could talk through problems, and people would come because someone always wants the answers. They'll even listen to a pretty geeky guy who thought he was cool to get them.

It's taken me awhile to see how God may want to use my mathematical background as part of my calling. I'm starting to get a glimmer of that. How those pieces fall together will be for another blog.

But what got me thinking math was a line I heard while listening to a podcast about living the spiritual life. It was said that this spiritual journey we are on has much more to do with subtraction than with addition. New math never made more sense.

Addition is about climbing up. About making ourselves worthy before God. Really being in control of our own spiritual life. Boiled down to its essence - addition is about playing god. So the fruit becomes busyness. Adding things to our spiritual repertoire. Going to groups, serving in ministries, working our way up the ladder to being a leader of some sort.

While it may lead to missing our calling, that does not matter. In the addition paradigm you will not be judged by what your calling was, but by how you perform. Worth is based on output. "How good am I?" becomes the mantra and that leads to a spiritual life without the spirit. Seeking approval, comparing ourselves to others, constantly striving to measure up to someone else's standards or expectations.

It also means that we can't bear with those who are not performing. There becomes a spiritual Darwinism. Survival of the spiritually fittest. We fear that such people may hold us back or drag us down, so they end up getting lip service, a pat on the back, and advice amounting to a charge to just live the spiritual life better. So when you have issues, questions, struggles that may arise from beginning a journey inward, we repel them thinking we are doing something wrong. We become whitewashed tombs. I know this well. All to well. That was the spiritual world I was immersed in and helped to propagate.

Subtraction is so counter cultural. Almost illogical. Progress spiritually is made by taking away. We call it letting go, or trust, or surrender. Whatever the terminology, it is marked by the absolute absence of our striving. Surrendering the way to God, rather than making it ourselves. Subtraction is anything but easy. In fact, the first steps required, those of the inward journey are so tough that I'd say most never attempt it.

It is trusting that God loves us even when our circumstances would have us believe otherwise. It is surrendering to the journey no matter how much we may want to avoid what we find. Letting God be responsible for the results as we take on the role of faithfulness. It is a submission to love.

While we talk a good game, subtraction means that we have to believe that we don't achieve God by doing holy things. God has made himself known to us. At no point do we have to start proving ourselves to him or showing how worthy we are. Nothing makes us merit his favor more than we already do by simply existing, by being the being creating in His image that He loves without bound.

If I want to be pleasing to the Father, then I must simply be still and know that He IS God. Everything else will flow from that truth. Desire for God, for truth, for justice, gratitude, service, calling...everything comes from Him. Subtracting ourselves. That is what conforming looks like in the kingdom. Not adding in new things to look the part, but subtracting to reveal what God planted in us when we were created in His image.

Despite his huge following, popularity, and status as a prophet, John the Baptist knew this to be true. I'll leave you with his words of the spiritual life of subtraction...

He must become greater; I must become less.

- John 3:30

Voyage of Sovereignty

The family went to see the latest tale of Narnia at the movie theater this afternoon - The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. For a movie adaptation, it was OK. It is understandable that they had to chop the tale up in order to fit it into an under two hour feature.

But the film did remind me of the story that I had read to my daughter some time ago. It is so much a story about God's sovereignty. About how He puts you in circumstances where you have the opportunity to face your true self. Where you are able to become less so that He can become more.

That is the story of pursuing God. Facing your true self, your root sins, core fears, and motivating desires and allowing God to do the (often painful) work of cutting away and shaping into the image of Christ.

God is very intentional about doing this - sovereignly - working all things, orchestrating events, knowing the outcome even when it all seems so unknown to us. And that is what happens for the three children who enter Narnia. There are things they each must face, lessons to learn, and a literal voyage for them to make. Aslan (Jesus) knows the outcome when He brings them through the picture. He's the alpha and omega, after all, knowing both the beginning and the end. Time unfolds in a straight line for us, but that is neither God's limitation nor concern.

Most explicitly this process happens for Eustace who must face the brokenness and division that his selfishness brings. First relationally with his cousins and citizens of Narnia, but also tangibly as his hording selfishness turns him into a dragon. Painful, humiliating, demoralizing, lonely...but necessary for him to cede that it is out of his own power to change. He must let the Lion dig deep within him in order to expose what is most hidden...his true self. Only when his true self encounters the living God can he be changed and love those around them. Only after the painful pruning process can he be comfortable in his own skin. Only after being a dragon can he realize that Aslan thought he was beautiful all along.

I love this part of the book best. If only the movie had done this 'conversion' scene justice.

God knows the outcome of my life too. I can't see it. All I have is the present, colored by the perspective of the past and my hope for the future. But I do trust that He's got me in exactly the place that is going to help me face my pride, false expectations, fears, and earthly perspective.

The past couple weeks, things have been rough around the house. Chock it up to all the change going on. Doesn't change how tough and painful and lonely the journey can be. In some ways, my wife seems worse with me around, like I am bad for her helping only to unsettle her and cause her anxiety that she has to allay. It seems that however I press into her, wall after wall goes up. Like I am inhibiting her progress.

I actually asked God why He wanted me here. It was not a question of regret. Not a question of uncertainty. It was just an honest 'why'. God, help me to see the big picture that you see. And His answer spoke of His sovereignty. I'm here because He has made me to handle the situation. In addition to how He's continuing to form me spiritually, He crafted me to be able to grow in a time like this. He knows the end result.

That's important because He also told me that it's not just for me that He had me return. It's for my wife. Her discomfort is the very thing that she must face at this stage of her journey. Seems that rather than inhibiting progress, I am essential for it. I am the circumstance she needs to compel her on her journey inward.

That's sovereignty. God sees the end. He has all the components in place to make that end a reality. And He does it out of His perfect love for us.

Indigestion

When my daughter was much younger, we used to be consumed by the four man children's group The Wiggles. We owned every one of their albums and videos. Three years in a row we went to their concerts when they passed through the area. (I am convinced the last year had nothing to do with my daughter and everything to do with my wife's love for the group.) The Wiggles all wore different color outfits and one year we all made our own shirts, one of each color, with home made iron-on decals on the front. I'd show you the picture, but then it'd go viral, I'm pretty sure.

One of the members of the group loved to eat. That was his special ability. (He was also the thinnest member, how was that possible?) His theme song started with the words "Food, food, wonderful food, to eat forever is my favorite wish!" How lovable. Unless desire for food becomes more than just enjoying the flavors and smells.

I am overweight. Always have been. Husky. I carry it fairly well, can perform in athletics, but it is becoming more and more evident to my belt. As for food, I do love the taste. Yet, I have also always noticed that in times of relational stress or dissatisfaction that I tend to load up on the sweets, crackers and chips. Like a high-carb nervous habit.

Recently, as part of my journey inward, I took a spiritual inventory. It summed me up pretty good. Almost too good; I do hate to be typecast. While I was reading the brief outline of characteristics of my type (and feeling like I was reading some of my blog posts) I happened to notice a link to "common addictions for your type". Not really feeling like I'm given to an addition (I'm not in a 12 step program after all), I clicked the link just so I could prove to myself that I wasn't completely predictable. Here's what it said...

Abusing food and over-the-counter medications. Bingeing, especially on sweets and carbohydrates. Over-eating from feeling "love-starved."

I almost spit the Parmesan cheese crackers out of my mouth that I was eating (Pepperidge farms makes these amazing crackers with Italian herbs and four cheeses on them....oh wait, hang on, trying NOT to be predictable here). Now, while over-the-counter meds are not my thing (and I shall definitely be avoiding them), the rest is dead on bull's eye. I abuse food, primarily when I feel love starved. Which has been often. So I've been on this weight roller coaster. I manage to lose some, but my relational system has not changed, so they come back (and bring friends, just like demons).

This has been an amazing internal realization for me. There is a tangible parallel between my emotional well being and my weight. God's timing in this realization is so completely perfect.

With my spiritual advisor last week, we were talking about relationships as I approach the time of coming out of the desert. She observed that God has used this time to carve out a large empty space within me and queried as to how I was going to fill it. In the last year and a half I've carefully laid a foundation of God within this space. Reserving it for Him, a place for He and I to meet.

It is with caution that I need to get back into the swing of ministry. After the extended time of fasting, it would be almost expected to gorge. To try to be the friend of everyone, to try to prove myself to anyone who would notice - to take a step back into my former people-pleasing ways.

When I was describing this to my advisor, before any of this addiction to carbs chatter started, I used the image of having the choice of two plates - one filled with french fries, and the other a heaping salad - the former filled with the things that will satisfy only briefly and the latter filled with the things of God. Literally, the image I used was a foreshadow of our conversation later.

Carbs are easily digestible. They feel good; they give an instant kick; they feel comfortable. But carbs don't nourish and they don't satisfy. In fact, when I eat a bunch of fries or crackers or m&m cookies, I only want more. That is such a picture of the people-pleaser. People's affirmation doesn't nourish the soul. Pleasing people doesn't last. It is a cycle of having to work harder to receive less and less, of eating more and more to quiet the loveless feeling.

The bridge here is my spiritual life. As I alluded to earlier, the timing of this realization is perfect (well, it is Christmas and there are lots of cookies, so it is big picture perfect). My craving for sweets can function as a thermometer for my feelings of love. A 'love-meter' of sorts. I can use those moments to remind myself that God loves me, Jesus died for me, the Spirit lives in me. In my weakness, God can be strong. I can continue to fill myself with the things of God rather than the images of love and approval that are the world's and won't last.

Am I filling up with the things of God or the Salad can be a spiritual reminder! The truth is that my relational system IS different. If for no other reason than I am different. But, it is still good to have a reminder of the discipline it takes to make good choices - with food, relationally, and spiritually. But, God's grace gets to shine through, because when I slip and eat a chocolate covered caramel Santa, I know that God still loves no matter how I perform. Grace and effort in tension. Grace will win every time.

Flying High

We went to the Bahamas for Thanksgiving this year. My parents have a timeshare, and in their generosity (or as my dad says, we are looking to spend your inheritance) they invited us to join them for the holiday. There were a couple short flights involved in making the trek down.

Flying for me is a matter of the mind. I start to think about the reality of being in a small metallic tube 5 miles in the sky. I wonder if the nice man who riveted the wing onto the fuselage was have a good day being fulfilled in his work or if he had somewhere to be when the whistle blew. And I know just enough about statics to be aware of the tensile strength of metal, but not enough to actually know what affects it. Air, while we cannot see it and take if for granted, is amazingly powerful.

With my mind filled with these thoughts, I can get a little jumpy during turbulence.

(A couple years ago, flying out of Vancouver, we fell several thousand feet during some extremely rough turbulence. During our ride, my daughter, who was six at the time, commented with laughter in her voice "this is just like a roller coaster!" I'd just finished screaming like a little girl and with my hand gripping the seat in front of me (like that'd do any good) I responded, "oh yes, just like a roller coaster." I wanted to be her pillar of strength.)

So, we were taking off on the first flight this Thanksgiving and I was starting my routine of over thinking when I had this thought, which I am attributing to the Holy Spirit...

What is different being on this plane as opposed to in a car or sitting at my cubicle at work or watching TV on the sofa with my wife? You may think me thick and say that the difference is quite obvious, you can see the ground in those latter scenarios. But really, there is no difference. My life is in the hands of an ever present, all knowing, omnipotent God in every event. Beckons the question: is my trust for God based on my perceived control in a given situation?

The Holy Spirit was reminding me that sitting on a plane is no different than sitting on my couch. My days are numbered by God, they are known in advance by Him, and no amount of couch sitting or redundancy built into a Boeing 737 will alter that one bit.

Trusting has to be based on the realization of what is out of my control, and letting God do His thing. Not paying lip service to trust, then building my own security. Living in the every day knowledge that God knows my needs and can take care of them at 32,000 feet just as easily as He can at sea level. My job is to keep my lamp lit and delight in His abundant love.

Lesson learned.