faithliness?

Faith–it’s a believing kind of thing. It involves trusting or embracing another, taking a person at his or her word. All of this is involved in Christian faith, with God’s Son being the object of one’s confidence.

But true faith is also more than theoretical belief and correct orthodoxy. Though it certainly involves these, it also includes something else. Faith, you see, is something that is, shall we say, energized by God. Thus, it is intended, at some level at least, to be alive.

James says that “faith, if it has no works, is dead, being by itself” (2:17). In another place he puts it this way: “You have faith and I have works; show me your faith without the works, and I will show you my faith by my works” (2:18).

The Message paraphrases this section of James 2 as follows: “Does merely talking about faith indicate that a person really has it? . . . Isn’t it obvious that God-talk without God-acts is outrageous nonsense?” Wow, this is pretty straightforward. The point, I think, is that faith was never intended to be locked away somewhere and treated like a mere theory or an abstract notion. While these things have their place, faith, if it’s real, should be active.

This got me to thinking about what kind of faith God is after. Though I am sure that true faith implies a proper acceptance of facts about God, it also demands an active expression of what God has placed within us. Faith, in other words, is supposed to shine. It should produce. Faith ought to flow. If faith is actually “faith-full,” it’s vibrant.

If faith is to be alive, then what God is after might be described as faithliness (faith-alive-ness). A lively, vibrant faith is a faith that not only theorizes but one that lives. In a world where faithlessness is all too common and a merely hypothetical faith falls far short, perhaps what we really need is faithliness. Okay, so it's a little late. :-)

the privilege of the run

What a privilege, I thought just today, that I can run, jogging up and down the streets of my hometown, cavorting here and there, bouncing around from one location to another on my various bouts of exercise. In case you haven’t figured it out, I am a runner. Each week, and most days, I can be found out on the roads and/or “pounding the payments.”

Given that I had knee surgery (repairing a medial meniscus, dealing with some arthritis) not too long ago (a few years), and given that I have been doing this running thing for many years, it’s pretty amazing that I can still skip around as I do, cutting, weaving, and whatever else constitutes my daily routine. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not sure if it will last forever. Maybe, one day, I’ll be forced to do something else for exercise. But for now, at least, I simply love to pop on my IPod and jog around town.

There is something liberating about running. Most of the time I run alone, which affords me a measure of solitude–time to think, to pray, to wonder, to dream . . . to avoid getting hit by cars. Running, for me, is (most of the time) an opportunity to recharge; it’s a type of renewal.

What’s more, running is also, in some strange way, a kind of passageway to my past. Like I said, I’ve been doing this exercise thing for a pretty long time. In fact just yesterday I located an old running log that I had kept many years ago . . . in my “youth.” What I noticed is that I was definitely better then, that is, faster and able to log more overall miles. But I also noticed that there were some remarkable similarities even though I’m now just “slightly” older.

The point, I think, is that there is within me a kind of kid-like quality. In a lot of ways, I’ve never left my youth (I know, that explains a lot of things! :-) ), and running is one of the ways that kid continues to rise up and emerge from my life. Or, perhaps it would be better so say that running is one of the avenues through which the real me, the me that is still youthful (though hopefully not puerile) continues to hold sway. For that, I am immensely thankful, and I can only hope and pray that the running continues, along with the inner, God-given sense of youthful energy and wonder. Anyone want to go for a run?

be yourself (everyone else is already taken)

Life is a journey, involving either an ongoing effort to be disingenuous or a perpetual desire to be what we were made to be.

While the above quote is somewhat overstated (after all, none of us has this anywhere close to perfected, and we are all too often double-minded in the actual outworking of our hearts’ desires), it captures something that is essential to our success and happiness. If we want to be useful, if we truly care about being helpful and effective in our relationships, we simply have to be ourselves.

Please, don’t misunderstand. My intent is not to encourage excessive introspection or to promote endless self-analysis. Furthermore, I certainly do not want to portray this whole “know thyself” thing as if any of us can completely understand ourselves. Even more so, I am not advocating an attitude in which we remain closed to change (far from it!), somehow using the “I’ve got to be me” mantra as an excuse for misbehavior. Put plainly, if we are doing something that is wrong, even if we think it comes “naturally,” we are still wrong and must take proper steps to alter any inappropriate tendencies.

When I mention the idea of being who we are, I’m referring to a level of comfort with ourselves and the way we were created. If God works through human personalities (and I think he does), one of the best things we can be is the personality God made us to be.

This notion of being yourself has been stated in various ways. For instance Judy Garland once remarked, “Always be a first-rate version of yourself, instead of a second-rate version of somebody else.” American poet E.E. Cummings added, “It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” And humanist/theologian Desiderius Erasmus put it this way: “It is the chiefest point of happiness that a man is willing to be what he is.”

To be who you are is, as someone once put it, to be comfortable in your own skin, to recognize that God made you a certain way, and that way you must be. It’s never an excuse for faulty or inappropriate choices but rather is the right way to give expression to wise and appropriate ones. We follow God and seek to do his will through the vehicle of our own personalities and styles.

Still, a number of questions remain, including the following: How do we know what our true selves are? And, what will others think of us if we allow our true selves to surface? Regarding the first question, I really don’t think that we should treat this like a quest to discover a hidden truth about ourselves. Though there are probably some things within each of us to which we haven’t given enough attention, I think the real “us” is something that surfaces quite naturally when we are paying attention. What are you really like? What makes you tick? What characteristics are noticeable and obvious to those who know you well? There is no secret formula for determining these things, only a willingness to pay attention to our God-given inclinations (not our bad habits!) and simply “go with the flow.” There are some helpful schemes for determining our gifts, but the gist of this whole thing is simply to notice and become comfortable with whatever God has made us to be.

Concerning the second question–what will others think?–I don’t deny that this can be a complicated thing. For instance I don’t think we are ever permitted to run people over with our personalities, forcing them to conform to our personal agendas. That would be wrong. However, I do believe that, at the end of the day, the only thing we can authentically be is ourselves. And I also believe that being ourselves (and allowing our gifts and personalities to be the conduits through which God manifests himself) is the best way to do anything. Though it is possible that some will misunderstand, I think that those who are paying attention and who truly get to know you will eventually appreciate you for who you are. Dr. Seuss said it well: “Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”

There you have it, my haphazard thoughts on being yourself. I have not mapped out all of this stuff, and I certainly don’t claim to be the embodiment of these principles. I can say, however, that I am at my best (however bad that might be) when I am being me. God wants me to be holy, to be godly, to be kind, to care, to be compassionate, to love others. All of these things matter, as does the realization that it is indeed “me” that must give expression to these truths. “Lord, enable me (us) to be what you want me (us) to be.”

what God's looking for

When it comes to the Christian faith, one of the core beliefs is that, put simply, we need God. He is the Savior, and we require his saving work. He is the Rescuer, and we are the rescued. Simple enough. At the basic level, we do not earn God’s favor but rather receive it freely. He saves the day, so to speak, and we are accepted freely.

Still, though God embraces us by shear grace, we are nonetheless accountable for how we respond to him and for living in a manner that is consistent with what he has done in accepting us. It’s not that we earn his favor, and it’s not that we slavishly attempt to retain his favor. Rather, we seek to live in a way that reflects a deep sense of appreciation for all that he’s done, is doing, and promises to do for us. Like the child of a good parent, we don’t earn our status in the family; that is something that is given to us without cost. However, like a good and faithful child wants to make his or her parents proud, we should want to live in a way that makes God proud.

But, once again, what is God looking for? If we can say it this way, what impresses our heavenly Father? Well, in Isaiah 66:2, we get a little glimpse at God’s heart. Here’s what he says:

But to this one I will look,
To the one who is humble and contrite of spirit,
and who trembles at My word.

“I will look” – Wow, these are powerful words. It’s like God saying, “these are my favorites. These are the ones I most appreciate. These are the ones I’m proud of. These are the ones who please me and 'get' what I’m after.”

“The one who is humble and contrite in spirit” – Humility is one of those necessary characteristics. It’s a realization that we are–how shall I say it?–we are not God. We are creatures. We’re limited and often weak. Indeed, though we are capable of incalculable good, this is ultimately traceable to God’s goodness and grace. Recognizing who and what we are, realizing that we need God, understanding that we must be linked to heaven (and, by extension, to others)–we see ourselves properly.

Humility, though, is not a sense of “woe is me.” It’s not a type of depression and inadequacy. Rather, it entails a connectedness to the one who makes all things possible. It’s saying, “I know who I am, and who I am is an outworking, an outflowing, of the One who made me.” Humility is the comprehension of my “me-ness” in the presence of his “God-ness.”

To be contrite, of course, is an ongoing acknowledgment that me are human, that we are far from perfect. It is a willingness, when appropriate, a humble willingness, to admit our wrongs and our foibles.

“Trembles at My word” – God’s word is his revelation, his communication. It is the unveiling of his person, promise, and power (the alliteration is unintentional :-) ). The word comes to us via the written word, i.e., Scripture, which is why this book has been cherished for centuries. But it’s not simply the ink on the page that is in view (though that is the historical basis for much of what we believe); it’s the unfolding of God’s will and ways through a variety of avenues, including the collection of documents we call the Bible.

To tremble at his word is to recognize, even at an emotional level, that he is the Lord, and we must not attempt to usurp his place. It is to have enough sense to say that his ways, his plans, his personal revelation, take priority. To tremble is to feel reality, to sense that God himself deserves our honor and praise. It is to properly react to our Creator, to reverence and deeply respect his ways.

This, then, is what apparently impresses God, if we can speak in such terms. He’s looking for those who are humble. He’s searching for people who are able to “come clean” about their faults. He seeking men and woman of every age, who have high regard for the one who is called the Lord.

what matters to God?

There is a passage in the Bible (Micah 6:8), which I think is profound in its simplicity and power. It reads as follows:

And what does the LORD require of you
But to do justice, to love kindness,
And to walk humbly with your God?

There are countless opinions about the meaning and purpose of life, and there is no shortage of advice as to the best way to live. While many suggestions are quite helpful, perhaps none is more concise yet far-reaching as this piece of ancient Scripture.

What does God require? What is he after? Simply put, we are to be fair and kind and humble before God. The Message says it this way:

Do what is fair and just to your neighbor,
be compassionate and loyal in your love,
And don't take yourself too seriously—
take God seriously.

Am I fair to those whom I encounter? Does compassionate flow from my life? Am I kind and caring? Do I demonstrate unconditional love? Am I sensible enough to realize both my shortcomings/imperfections and my need for outside assistance (from God and others)?

These are hard questions to answer. Obviously, we all fall far short on a regular basis, at least I do. But isn’t this a great way of looking at life? Aren’t these the very things we all need to hear?

Of course even these matters might require further clarification, for some will want to know more about this God who gives such counsel. Still, at a certain level, it is good to hear a summary of the big stuff, the stuff that God cares about. With all of the religious talk and spiritual debate that takes place regularly, it is refreshing to be reminded of what truly matters to God, what actually ought to matter for us.

So, what is God interested in? What does he want from us? Well, it appears that he’s looking for us to display mercy. He wants his people to care about others. Kindness and a gentle altruistic spirit are matters about which he is concerned. The promotion of justice, a deep sense of our own limitations and needs, the expression of loyal love–these are the nonnegotiable features of a successful life under God. “Lord, help us (me!) to embody these traits, these distinguishing features of a healthy faith.”

you raise me up

I love the words to Josh Groban’s You Raise Me Up.

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up . . . To more than I can be.

Though I’m not entirely sure what Groban intends, these words can easily be applied to our relationship with God. In fact they closely parallel Scripture’s portrait of a deity who cares and draws near.

I am very thankful for the tremendous things that God has given to me. In so many ways, I am blessed. Still, given the imperfections of this world and my own propensity for being dense, there are times when I am weary, times when I need assistance that transcends my current circumstances. Groban says, “I . . . wait here in the silence, until you come and sit awhile with me.” This reminds me of the passage that reads: “Be still, and know that I am God.” There are times, in other words, when we simply have to rest in our Maker, waiting for him to “show up.” In another place, we read: “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” Again, this is a common theme and one from which Groban draws.

And what happens when we “sit” and “wait” for God? Somehow, though we can’t always detect the exact movements, he raises us up. Jesus put it this way: “Come to me . . . and I will give you rest.”

Where, then, is strength ultimately found? How do we become resilient and able to persevere? What, exactly, enables us not only to survive but to thrive, to be more than we could be alone? It seems that there is a personal force that is larger than any of us. We draw on it, rather, on him, and we are, to quote Groban, “raised up to be more than [we] can be.” This is amazing stuff, the stuff that far exceeds any merely hypothetical religion. When we (together) lean on the invisible, when we (together) rely on the outwardly imperceptible (yet practically obvious?), when we walk by faith, we can stand on mountains.

you're my home

God has given us a lot of great things. Some of these involve locations, places we go. Others involve relationships, people with whom we spend time. In my view both of these are important, and we should never minimize the significance of either.

Thus, it matters that we pay attention to the world God created, that we appreciate and enjoy the many blessings he has sprinkled across of our lives. There are vacation spots to enjoy (Cape May is one of these for me). There is scenery that takes our breath away (there is lots of beauty to behold). There are different places–some obvious and some not so obvious–where we feel comfortable. Again, this is a good thing, and we really ought to take advantage of and revel in the beauty of wonderful places.

But it also matters, and I think even more, that we remain grateful for the people God has placed in our lives. My family, my friends, my relatives, my students–these are very important to me. People, those whom God has placed in my life, mean everything.

This doesn’t mean, of course, that our relationships always run smoothly, for they can also be the cause of much turmoil and heartache. Life isn’t always easy; that’s for sure. Still, there is (potentially, at least) something very special about human beings, something that “outranks” even the most spectacular sunsets or the most exquisite natural (or man-made) phenomena.

Every once in a while I hear young people talking about how they want to move away from home. Supposedly, there is so much more “out there” than there is right here. Sometimes, this impulse to pick up and leave is a good one, and certainly there are many places in this world to explore . . . or where one might put down roots. However, it is also true that nothing can substitute for genuine connections with like-minded individuals about whom we care. As I’ve said many times, it’s not the places you are but the people you are with. It’s people even more than places.

Now, there is nothing to keep us from pursuing both. The ideal, I suppose, is to be with the right people in the right places. Both matter. But if you had to choose one, I’d advice that you choose people. Perhaps, it would be better said this way: There are many important features to life, things that truly matter. But the highest priorities (under God) are the relationships he sends our way.

I love to stroll along the beach. I love going for a walk. I love relaxing on my front porch on a nice spring or summer day. I love to run around the neighborhood. I love to be in many places, experiencing whatever good things I can. But even more important to me (I hope) are the special people whose lives he has allowed to intersect with my own. People matter the most.

The Billy Joel song You’re My Home captures some of my thoughts.

Home can be the Pennsylvania Turnpike
Indiana early morning dew
High up in the hills of California
Home is just another word for you

The theme of this love song is that people are the essence of home. Whether we’re talking about a romantic relationship, a family’s love, or other genuine connections with important individuals, home is where our loved ones are. I hope I can say, though I admittedly mess up all of the time, that (especially) my wife and kids, along with other special people in my life . . . that they are my home. To them I say, home is just another word for you.

what are you criticized for?

What do you people criticize you for? For too many Christians, I think the answer is that they are “persecuted” for being . . . well, just plain weird. Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing shameful about being criticized by people who wrongly think you are weird. In fact I would probably argue that there is indeed a type of strangeness to the Christian faith that is sometimes labeled weird. If you are wrongly persecuted for simply being different, you can hold your head up high.

But, and this is where my mind was tracking on this one, it is relevant, I think, to consider why we are criticized, ostracized, or otherwise feel the tension of living faithfully in a world that often does not care. Some are censured because they are doing the wrong thing. Others are simply misunderstood. What is it, though, that Christians ought to be criticized for?

I suppose I should pause to clarify something. There is no value in looking for persecution. Frankly, if you want to be persecuted, if you are looking to be misunderstood, you are not being faithful and probably ought to seek professional help. To foster a persecution-complex is, in my view, an unhealthy thing. I can’t speak for everyone else, but I’m not particularly fond of pain.

That said, we all experience some measure of pain and persecution. The thing I’m interested in here is in locating the reason(s) for criticism. In other words if we are going to be attacked as Christians, we might as well be attacked for the right cause(s). And this is where some (but certainly not all) within the church miss the mark.

Too often, it seems, Christians are persecuted for such things as the lingo they throw around and the attitude they exude in relating to others. If you make words like “saved,” “born again,” and “praise the Lord,” your common vernacular (though the terms themselves, properly understood, are not wrong), a lot of people will look at you like you just arrived from another planet, and I don’t blame them! If you act like you have all of the answers (by the way, you don't), it is not surprising that people are turned off.

So, what ought to be the reasons for persecution? Assuming, as mentioned above, that no sane person wants to be persecuted, what is it that ought to raise the ire of those who dislike the things of God? Please, may I suggest a few things?

If you simply have to be persecuted, it should be as a result of being faithful to the Christian cause. What might this entail? Well, I think it would include living in a manner that is consistent with Jesus’ own example. And what did Jesus do? He lived with people. He rubbed shoulders with the needy. He taught others. He led by example. He lived and spoke out of concern for his fellow human beings.

So, if you are going to be persecuted, I think it ought to be for being honest, being pure, and maintaining your integrity. If anyone is going to say or do something against you, it might as well be because you care, help, and look out for others. If they are going to misunderstand you, it should be because you exude qualities that are consistent with following God’s ways. I don’t want to be criticized for anything, to be honest. But if I have to be misrepresented or subtly (and not so subtly) mistreated, the best I can hope for is to be misrepresented and mistreated for truth, for authenticity, for compassion, for kindness, and for love. Though I’d sooner avoid the arrows of misunderstanding, I can handle them–I think–if I know that I’m at least attempting to mirror the One who has been so good to me. “God, help me to get this right and to be faithful.”

inside the bubble

One of the things that sometimes drives me crazy is the near obsession among certain Christian groups with “reaching” people with the gospel. Don’t get me wrong. There is a sense in which we ought to be concerned to share our faith–directly or indirectly–with people we get to know. At least those who think about such matters cannot be accused of being overly separatistic in their approach to Christianity.

Still, it amazes me how we sometimes distance ourselves from those we supposedly care for. We do this, at times, by living like we are outside the bubble, looking in, as if we are strangers in this land that is called reality. So, we watch from a distance and try to figure out ways to bridge the gap between the church world and the real world. Again, there is certainly a place for such thinking, and it doesn’t hurt to brainstorm about the best ways to assist our communities. Still, we often unknowingly hurt the cause in a number of ways.

For instance some will (rightly?) think that Christians are arrogant to approach life in such a distant and condescending manner. If we are not involved in the nitty-gritty of other people’s lives, what right do we have to dogmatize from “on high” (outside the bubble)? Furthermore, by approaching life as an outsider we never really cultivate the relationships that spawn legitimate concern for people. People aren’t statistics to be counted or numbers to add to our church roll. They are real human beings with hurts and joys and needs and questions. To be honest, I don’t think we normally have the right to fling truths at people if we don’t already know them. On a similar note, what kind of spiritual authenticity are we promoting if we constantly view outsiders (whatever that means) as some type of religious projects? Again, they are more than that, and so our deepest expressions of compassion and love and genuine evangelism will only result when we don’t view relationships as a means to some artificial end (“to get them saved”) but as real people whom we truly care about because we know them. If you feel plastic in your approach to the faith, you are probably by-passing the very thing that ought to motivate any effort to be a blessing to another human being. That “thing” is a true relationship.

Of course some would argue that such an approach is dangerous, and at a certain level, I agree. If you live in the real world, you might come up against forces that are real and hurtful. It’s easier to stay away, to view the world from a distance, to bypass the messiness that is a part of actual living “inside the bubble.” But it’s also wrong and–how can I say it–sub-human, and ultimately damaging to those who just might benefit from your genuine concern. You see, faith is, by the nature (super-nature?) of the case dangerous, but it’s the only way to live faithfully . . . and with purpose.

Please understand what I’m not saying. I’m not suggesting that we absorb the worst features of the culture around us or that we naively assume that we can live our lives without discernment. Far from it! What’s more, I am not minimizing the need to connect with like-minded individuals, who already share a similar worldview.

All I’m trying to say is that this faith outreach thing, if it is to be genuine, has to be tied to real, up-close relationships with the people who come our way. While there are plenty of things to talk about (and theorize about), the stuff that really matters is as simple as the people whom God sends your way. You can’t manufacture these things, and–if you want to be more than a robotic believer–you shouldn’t want to.

Not long ago, someone reminded me that it’s not always easy being a Christian in, how shall we put it, the real world. If you can say that, you are probably already doing something right. Only those who have felt the tension and the pressure and, sometimes, the misunderstanding and even criticism of living in the world know what this is like. It’s not easy, but it is certainly worth it. Of course what you are persecuted for also says a lot about the kind of Christian you are, and I’ll attempt to address that briefly in the next blog (see above). For now, it’s simply enough to say that God intended that we live our lives “here” and not “there,” that is, on the inside of society and not on the outskirts.

If you want to know what makes people tick, if you truly care about others, if you are even interested in figuring out what truly matters (spiritually and otherwise)–you have to be immersed in the here of where God wants you to be. Strategies and approaches and similar things may have their place, but the thing that truly matters is that we sincerely show ourselves to be faithful in relationships with the individuals God sends our way. It can be unsafe inside the bubble, no doubt, but it’s also where the action is, where the blessings are, where God is.

thoughts on teaching

Just the other day, a member of our high school publications staff, a former student and very nice young lady, asked if I would answer some questions for their “Beat Sheet.” Here, I thought I would expand on some of my original responses about something I care about deeply, teaching. I will list my original response, followed by a few additional comments.

“The Beat Sheet”

What do you feel is the best part of teaching?

Probably the best part of teaching is interacting with so many fine young people and having the opportunity to participate in their personal and educational journeys.

Without a doubt, the greatest blessing associated with my job is that of associating with some of the tremendous young people I’ve gotten to know over the years. You hear a lot about how bad kids are–and, frankly, this is sometimes warranted–but you don’t hear enough about the terrific young people who walk our hallways. Though they are only young adults, and while they obviously lack experience, it is amazing how mature many of them are. Intellectually, socially, emotionally–they are sometimes surprisingly well-seasoned and real-world ready. Of course, as I’ve already mentioned, they are still very young and therefore not as seasoned as their older counterparts (old fogies?). This is why young people need to tap into the expertise and experience of others. Indeed, this is why they require an education in the first place. And it is also, in part, why I love being an educator. One of the really cool things about teaching is that, at some level, I get to join some of these young people on their journey. To be honest, I think the whole process is good for me, providing an ongoing revitalization to my own journey. What a privilege, I often think, to be able to participate in such a relevant process. The best part of teaching is the very thing I encounter each day, super young people.

What is the most important thing you want to teach your students?

That education is a journey, and that knowledge is powerful only when it is linked to wisdom.

Too often, I think, we view education as simply the accumulation of facts, as something at which we hope to arrive. Of course there are milestones along the way, accomplishments that we rightly celebrate. One of them is graduation. But education never stops there, and it was never intended to be viewed merely as a level we reach but also a path that we follow. There is this notion, mistaken in my view, that all we have to do it file away facts, collect pieces of data, and all will be well. While knowledge is clearly essential to the educational enterprise, at least as important is the ability to harness that knowledge and apply it with discernment. What is required, in other words, is wisdom. Knowledge involves facts, theories, principles, and similar things. Wisdom, while drawing from these facts, is oriented to life. In my opinion, knowledge combined with wisdom is the pathway to true success.

How do you define a successful student?

Successful students are those who are committed to utilizing their gifts, determined to give positive expression to what they’ve learned, and able to embrace the reality that education is a lifelong endeavor.

We are all gifted in different ways. It would be a pretty boring world if we all possessed the same skills and interests. This is why it really matters that we come to recognize our own abilities and gifts. Though we should seek to be well-rounded as students and human beings, there’s no denying our individuality. A part of success, then, is a willingness to remain cognizant of the many contours of our own personalities. Though I have no doubt that some people stress out in their efforts to (too narrowly?) define themselves, I think it is important to be ourselves and to learn to be, as someone once said, comfortable in our own skin. This is part of what education is about. As already mentioned, there is more to learning than the accumulation of facts. Something is truly wrong if we are so “top heavy,” consumed merely with intellectual endeavors, that we never seem able to give expression to what we know, to make use of knowledge gains. The intellectual, the academic–these are essential and ought never be downplayed. But intellectual endeavors should also find application in our lives. Education entails taking what we have learned and inculcating it in helpful ways. The application of various truths is not something that ever reaches an end. Though we often (and rightly) applaud those who are “learned” (i.e., those who have attained a measure of competence in this area or that), it is perhaps more important to be a “learner.” We are all learners, partially finished masterpieces, shaped by personal choices (academic and otherwise) and by forces outside of ourselves. For our part, it is important to recognize this process and to embrace the journey. Among other things, education is a lifelong endeavor.

Well, there you have it, some rather off-the-cuff remarks about education. Thanks, Chelsea, for “forcing” me to think about these important matters! Mr. DiCello ☺

if it looks like . . .

We live in a skeptical and even cynical age. In a world where lying is common, various examples of human abuse are reported daily, and all too many of the arbiters of societal mores look more like disingenuous politicians than genuine role models, this attitude is completely understandable.

We’ve all been hurt by such individuals. We’ve all been disappointed by the behavior (or should I say misbehavior) of those we thought we could trust. People lie and cheat, at least some of them do. Men and women are fake, at least a good number of them are. In such a world, can we believe in much of anything? Can we trust anyone? Is anyone real?

First, I think it’s important to acknowledge the obvious. None of us has the right to expect anything close to perfection from any other human being. We are all frail and inconsistent at best. Indeed, even the most outstanding among us is not immune to silliness and foolishness and other human tendencies. Let’s face it; we all mess up more often than we’d like to admit. It is important to recognize, therefore, that no one deserves to be elevated to such a level. Indeed, no one needs the pressure of having to sustain a level of goodness that is, well, unrealistic. Any honest observer will immediately recognize his or her own inadequacies and will not be ridiculously demanding of others. This reality–that we all fall short–is precisely why our ultimate attention ought to be on the only one who can meet (and exceed) human expectations. Only God is perfect (obviously!), which means that only he should be elevated to such a position. (In fact only as we look at others through the prism of a perfect being (i.e., God) can we even see our human counterparts as they might be . . . but that’s another story.)

Still, the question remains: Is there such a thing as goodness? Is anyone for real? Though I say it with a measure of trepidation (for we’re all prone to goofiness), I truly believe in authenticity. In other words some people are truly kind, caring, and compassionate. They are never completely consistent in their ways, of course, but such individuals do exist. That’s the point.

Should we be skeptical of many things? Sure, for prudence demands that we walk with a measure of caution. Ought we be careful about the individuals to whom we entrust ourselves? Absolutely, for it would be naive to ignore the many examples of hypocrisy. But if we only look at human inconsistency, if we only notice insincerity, I think we are missing something important. You see, I believe–and maybe I’m just being puerile–that God’s imprint still makes its way into our world. I actually think that goodness, truth, compassion, and love can be found among us.

To be honest, I hesitate to place myself in such a category. After all, I am well aware of my own stupidity and the like. But I do know a handful of people (however uncommon) that I would place in this category, people of integrity and kindness, those who are for real. And I know that, despite my fickleness, at least in my better moments, this is what makes me tick.

There’s an old saying that goes as follows: “If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s probably a duck!” Of course when it comes to matters of character and morality, we are a bit more critical than we might be about mere ducks. Given the stakes, this is probably a wise course. However, it is also important not to miss the meaning of the illustration. Sometimes (though not always), when you observe someone who is kind, he/she truly is kind. Once in a while, you will meet someone whose concern is authentic and whose heart is good. Believe it or not, acts of kindness are not always a smoke screen for some type of hidden agenda. Not every smile is fake, and not every act of kindness or word of encouragement is counterfeit. In God’s world, by God’s grace, there still exist people who are genuine. By God’s enabling influence, authenticity can still exist. If it looks like it’s real and sounds like it’s real, sometimes–thank God!–it actually is real. “Lord, enable us (me) to be what we (I) can be for you and others. Help us (me) to be real.”

love's teaching

There’s a great line in U2's song, Vertigo. It goes like this: “Your love is teaching me how to kneel.”

While I am uncertain what U2 intended by these words, one possible interpretation is that God’s love produces an attitude of dependence and trust in him. This love, then, would, shall we say, originate from “above,” while the kneeling would pertain to things like prayer.

Love is a common topic, and it has often been addressed by believers. The ultimate demonstration of love is what God did to reconcile humanity to himself. This is our chief motivation and the paradigm for what we are to be and do. We are to love, in other words, because he first loved. Thus, God expresses his love in countless other ways, and all of these, one might argue, can be traced back to the ultimate love expression (i.e., incarnation and cross), being current examples of his ongoing concern for us.

Everyday God showers us with love through various avenues. Often, these are attached to the relationships and opportunities we are given. As Jesus himself said, we are to love God and one another. In some strange yet magnificent way, divine-human love and human-human love are related. The point here is that God shows himself to us in the nitty gritty of life. This, I think, is the love that is “teaching” us.

Of course love often involves emotion, but it also extends beyond mere feelings. Love is also an act, a determination, a commitment, an unconditional resolve to meet the needs of another. Jesus did this to perfection, of course, and we try (however inconsistently) to emulate. Love, therefore, is an activity that may or may not involve emotion. In either case, the divine example should occupy a central place in our thoughts. God loves.

But what does God’s love (past, present, and future–what he did, does, and promises to do) produce? Bono says it causes him to “kneel.” This, I think, is an expression of profound awe, an appreciation for the love that has flowed into his life. When we recognize this love in its many forms, we are more prone to “kneel,” that is, to realize who it is that provides us with love in its many manifestations.

Whatever the actual meaning of these U2 lyrics, it is true that love has a profound impact on us and, when properly understood, fills us with wonder. Your love is teaching me–despite my thick head and foolish heart–it’s teaching me how to kneel.

the glory of love

There’s an old Chicago song–with then lead singer Peter Cetera–called the glory of love. The tune is, of course, oriented to romantic relationships, which is good and appropriate. But it also contains the kernel of something larger, something that I think applies to all kinds of relationships–romantic, family, friendly, mentor, etc. As the song says, some things ought to be done for the glory of love.

In Scripture there is an obvious emphasis on love. Jesus told us to love one another as he loved us, which is quite a standard to shoot for. He also said that each of us is to love God with all of our heart, soul, and mind.

Love, many would (in my opinion) rightly argue, is the centerpiece of true spirituality. It’s all about love. And why not? After all, Scripture also tells us that God is love. The point is not that there is some invisible cloud of “love stuff” floating around the universe, which we hope to run into. There is, however, a relating God who permeates the universe, and we can indeed “run into” him . . . and he can “run into” us.

One big part of life is, I think, somehow getting our hearts and lives to coalesce with God and his purpose. But how do we connect with God? I would suggest at least two broad ways. One is by taking in and absorbing whatever he has revealed and allowing it to mold us from the inside out. According to Scripture, he reveals himself around and within us (general revelation) and to us (special revelation). As we “rub up against” both the truths of Scripture (that help clarify the type of God we’re talking about) and the truths of his creation (which help us to recognize the magnitude of the person we're talking about) our spiritual antennae are adjusted and our hearts honed and shaped.

But there is also another big part of life, which involves more than simply picking up facts about God. There is God himself. Though he’s not some type of ooze that floats around us, he is a being that can and does connect with his creatures. We, I would argue, must learn to “seek him with all of our hearts.”

Here’s the cool (and transforming) thing. He’s with us. He surrounds and embraces us. He is in some strange and wonderful way with us. Though we (or at least I) usually miss him, he’s there none-the-less.

Contrary to the views of many, I think God enters our lives in many ways. He’s with us when we interact with others in a manner that is consistent with his will. He’s with us when we exude compassion and express kindness. He’s with us when we celebrate the joy of others’ accomplishments. He’s with us when we “feel the pain” of those who are hurting. He’s with us when we care, when we share our lives, when we laugh at the silly things of life, when we recognize the blessings he’s given to us, when we . . . you get the point.

All of this said, it makes sense that we would be courageous and compassionate, and that we would do these things with a purpose, for what Peter Cetera refers to as the glory of love. Among other things, he sings:

I am a man who will fight for your honor
I'll be the hero you’ve been dreaming of
We'll live forever
Knowing together that we
Did it all for the glory of love

Again, not limiting it to romantic love alone (though, of course, that’s a valid expression), Cetera’s words are important to note. We should fight for what’s right, do what’s honorable, live for what truly matters, for these are the things that will last. And as we take this course, one of our chief motivations is love. Love is a command, a principle, a goal, a guide, a way of life, and a person (actually, in Christian theology, persons, who have always related to one another in love). This is the stuff that is worthy our greatest and most heartfelt efforts.

So, go about being kind, doing good, defending what is honorable and true. Though you (and I!) will mess up along the way, and while we all require the help of God and others, I believe there is hope for all who honor love (and Love–i.e., the God of love). Do it all, then, for the glory of love.

truth wins

There are times when life can be baffling, when you just don’t know if people “get” who you are or understand your intentions and motives. There are times when I’m not completely sure if people I know and care about, people who have truly gotten to know me, fully comprehend me.

I realize, of course, that you can’t run around trying to please everyone, and (to be honest) I don’t typically get as stressed out about what “outsiders” think of me. Don’t get me wrong. I do care if people misrepresent me or conjure up false ideas of who and what I am. On those (rare?) occasions when this occurs, my desire is to set things straight. But–and this is important–I’m not as emotionally impacted about these outsiders as I might be if an “insider” misunderstands me.

Unfortunately, we live in a world in which perversion gets the headlines, inappropriate behavior fans the flames of suspicion, and insincerity and political correctness too often dominate. Within this milieu, it is easy to be skeptical and cynical. In this kind of world, things like trust, honesty, and integrity seem unattainable traits.

Of course given the reality of human imperfection, it is indeed true that we are all flawed, imperfect, and inconsistent. Whatever our best intentions, we are all prone to mess up along the way. Thus, the integrity of which I speak is never completely smooth or uninterrupted. There always remains the human element.

That said, however, I still truly believe that it is indeed possible to embody traits that are good and honorable and right. It is possible, in other words, to be a “good guy/girl.” Naive assumptions aside (that any of us can do this perfectly), it is realistic to believe that–by the grace and influence of God– we can shine forth an integrity that is genuine and–bumps admitted–ongoing.

But here is where I sometimes wonder about it all. Do others understand these things? Are they able to embrace the notion that integrity and goodness (as traits and reflections of God) are possible? Do you and I truly believe that authentic spirituality, genuine love, and similar traits are more than, well, a pipedream?

Again, admitting the reality that we all mess up and do foolish things, I actually believe that things like kindness and compassion are possible. I honestly embrace the idea that–frauds and pretenders aside–truth exists, that the love that flows from God can flow through us to others. (In one place, in fact, we are told that God is love, that love finds it’s origin in a personal deity . . . but that’s another story).

So, what should we do when we wonder if people actually accept us in our efforts to give expression to high ideals? How do we cope with the uncertainty that cynical people (and I can be one of them) might doubt our intentions and perhaps question if such ideals even exist in the first place?

Well, one of the best things I’ve found is to believe that truth wins. And if truth wins, if it is greater than human imperfections and societal uncertainty, then one of our main tasks is to simply give expression to these ideals as consistently and authentically as we possibly can.

If I truly care, if I honestly want to help others, if I demonstrate genuine interest, if I truly and unashamedly share my heart and life with those who come my way, I have to believe that, in the end, these things will win. People (myself included) can be skeptical, cynical, doubting, wavering, mislead, misinformed, and even deceived. But truth and love, if they are indeed real, have to win out, for they are exactly that, real.

So, keep on being you. Continue to prayerfully give yourself to people about whom you care. Shoot for integrity and character. Reflect love. With everything inside of you, fight through your own errors and inconsistencies, and keep your eyes on the prize. Truth and love originate in God, and so they cannot be overcome. Though clouds of uncertainty mark our present existence, truth is more solid than these temporary hindrances of unreal haze.

Though people may not immediately “get” you, while we are all prone to playing “mind games,” wondering whether our sincere acts of concern are properly interpreted, we must learn to trust that the truth will win. The fake, the make-believe, the faulty–these things cannot endure, for they are not based in reality. Truth is real, as is love. Therefore, we (and I!) must continue to “love as he loved us,” believing that truth must (and will!) win.

the greatest of these . . .

“Faith, hope, and love”–these are perhaps the chief characteristics of genuine spirituality. Faith involves looking to another, resting in the one who can rescue, protect, and guide. Hope is an expectation of better things, an attitude of anticipation that the good will indeed arrive.

Of course faith from a Christian perspective centers in Jesus, the promised Messiah. In this sense faith engenders and provides the basis for hope. Trusting in God’s provisions and promises yields hope. Hope, from a Christian vantage point, is a realistic optimism, a confidence of sorts that life does (and will) ultimately make sense. Indeed, it can be argued that the human longing for fulfillment and purpose, the hope embedded in the soul of people, incites faith, for it sets us on a course or a journey to locate the cause of this hope. Faith and hope therefore intersect and compliment each other and thus play an integral role in spirituality.

Notice, however, that there is one more element that is even more powerful than the others. That element is love. The point is not that love can get along without faith and hope. Love, in fact, locates its source in the object of faith, which–according to Christian tradition–is Jesus. Likewise, love looks with hope to the day when it is unhindered by corruption and error and unhampered by wrong impulses. Thus, faith and hope work in conjunction with love in the expression of spirituality.

Still, there is some sense, at least, in which love is greater than the others. What good would hope in the future be if didn’t produce compassion and grace in the here-and-now? Likewise, how useful would faith be if it didn’t actually motivate practical expressions of love?

Hope needs love if it is to go beyond mere sentimentality, if it is to prove its own validity. And faith requires more than theoretical belief in various doctrines (true though they might be); it shows itself to be authentic by radiating in and through the life of those who believe. Faith, in other words, works through love.

How can we know if faith and hope are genuine, if any of them are to be accepted, if there really is anything to this whole spiritual enterprise? Faith–which is integral–is an ongoing attitude of trust and dependence in God, while hope is a looking forward to the completion of faith. But current (ongoing) faith and the future (undeterred) hope both require something else. Faith and hope grow in the soil of genuine love.

Any truly sound spirituality requires an interplay between faith, hope, and love. They flow in and out of one another, each sustaining and energizing the others. Make no mistake about it, we require faith, hope, and love . . . all three. But one penetrates the others in a special way, a way that can be easily observed, felt, and demonstrated. Love incites faith and demands hope. Faith, hope, and love–these are the basic qualities of a Christian spirituality . . . but the greatest of these is love.

(divine) multitasking

It’s pretty amazing when you think about, but it happens all of the time. God multi-tasks. In fact he is the paradigm and epitome of multitasking.

If you hold to a Christian worldview, you accept that God is sovereign, that he governs his world. Thus, the events that take place each day are the outworking of his kingship, the result of his all powerful care.

Of course I realize that it is this very concept that gets God “in trouble,” for it is difficult to explain many things on the view that says a deity is in charge. However, I still think it makes best sense and provides the most hope to retain the view of God’s sovereignty, and I’m not interested in arguing the point at this juncture. What fascinates now is the simple yet profound reality that God orchestrates life’s events. This is strange stuff, indeed.

Of course we have to be careful about how we interpret divine providence. Just because God is in charge doesn’t mean that he’s provided a guidebook for how we are to read his providence. Sometimes, frankly, it’s difficult or even impossible to understand what God is “saying” in the outworking of his plan. In fact it is probably often the case that he isn’t actually saying anything through particular acts of providence. Though the details are a part of the whole, it’s often the whole that represents what God is “up to.” So, the particulars shouldn’t always be incessantly analyzed or interpreted.

That said, I think there is still a general principle that says we should learn from providence, and most of us have experienced times when we’re wondered if God has orchestrated events just for us. This doesn’t mean, of course, that we are the only ones God is concerned about, and we often don’t know what, exactly, he’s up to in the ordering of our daily affairs. Still, there are those times when we wonder what he’s up to. Just the other day, in fact, my schedule at school took a certain turn as I was asked to cover a duty for someone. Later, I wondered if this change of schedule was an intentional effort on God’s part to lead me down a certain path. Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not entirely sure. But if, for the sake of argument, he really did create events to guide me through my day, what does that say for the other people affected by this divine decision to change my schedule? Would God alter world events (or even local ones) for me?

Well, this got me to thinking about the idea of divine multitasking. Perhaps, God is able to multitask on such a profound and incomprehensible level that the events he affects are intended personally for me and yet also simultaneously (and for reasons beyond my knowledge) for others as well. Maybe he manipulates events for me, and for you, and for others. If so, this is the ultimate example of daily multitasking. Thankfully, the divine multitasker, though clearly mysterious, is also good and loving.

a good hurt (love)

Sometimes, I’m a pretty emotional guy. I’m not entirely sure why, but a large part of it is bound to the simple fact that I care. This affects the way I approach a lot of things, and it has a particularly profound impact on the way I teach (which I do) and relate to young people (which I also do).

Every year, it seems, there comes a point when the passage of time makes me sentimental, when the “blues” take center stage, when young men and women leave my immediate presence. This sentimental impulse is intensified when I encounter those rare individuals who have granted me permission, if you will, to enter their lives in a more personal fashion.

As a teacher of (too?) many years, I’ve gotten to know many impressive individuals (and quite a few unimpressive ones, too :-) ). Occasionally, however, my life intersects the lives of special ones. Special ones are just that, special, at least in my opinion. They are often individuals of impressive skill, unusual maturity, and genuine integrity. They are young men and women who have been placed in my life by the providence of God, individuals who have connected with me on a more personal level, students who have allowed me the incredible privilege of being a part of their lives.

For all of these things and more, I am immensely grateful. But, as I said earlier, this is not always an easy task, for I must also allow these same students to grow and eventually venture out of my presence (though I don’t want to exaggerate my influence or worth). And this, without question, is sad. Frankly, it hurts when good young people go on their way. And the pain is all the more profound when those “special ones” (and you know who you are) leave my classroom.

I like lots of kids; I really do. But a small number of them touch my heart more deeply than the rest. They are young individuals I truly care about. In every way that is good and right, I honestly love them. But, sometimes love is difficult. The words of the Incubus song Love Hurts say it this way:

Love hurts . . .
But sometimes it’s a good hurt
And it feels like I'm alive.
Love sings,
When it transcends the bad things.
Have a heart and try me,
‘cause without love I won’t survive.

Yeah, sometimes love hurts, but it’s a good hurt. I don’t like the pain, of course, and I truly dread the feelings associated with this whole process. But I’m also reminded that I’m alive, that some things are worth the effort, the agony, the uncertainty, the pain. I also believe that love sings, that–at least in my case–it simply must be expressed. Indeed, to this end, I feel compelled, at times, to give those special people, those rare individuals whom I encounter, a clear indication of my care, my concern, my appreciation, my respect, my love.

“Special ones”–you know who you are. Know, as well, that my commitment to you is unending, my gratitude profound, my willingness to assist you in any way I can unflinching, my love enduring. God has placed you in my life, and I marvel at the opportunities and the blessings. Though there is a measure of hurt along the way, I want you to know that it’s worth it all. For you, it's worth it all. It’s a good kind of hurt. (Love, Mr. D)