The point of making this comparison was to say that God can use anyone, no matter how morally-questionable they may be, to accomplish greatness. And as Donald Trump has appropriated the word "greatness" for himself, it's not surprising that his supporters eventually drew this comparison. However, as someone who's actually read the Bible, I have to say that this comparison is utter garbage, and anyone who makes it might just have scales on their eyes, blinding them to the truth.

The reasons why this comparison fails are manifold. First, even before Saul of the New Testament went through his remarkable transformation, he was already what you might call a Biblical scholar. Of course the Bible as we think of it hadn't yet been written, but there were the Jewish laws of the Torah, the Psalms, and the other Old Testament stories of King David, Elijah, and all the other prophets - all of which Saul knew like the back of his hand. Saul was a Pharisee, or what they called a "doctor of the law," so he had carefully studied and examined these texts since boyhood. His religion and intellect informed his every decision, and while immoral, nothing he did was irrational. In other words, he had tremendous intellectual prowess, and basically had his PhD in Hebrew and Old Testament Studies. On top of this, he was a powerful and persuasive speaker, motivated by the same youthful zeal that has led revolutions to success. Powerful and persuasive public speaker, historian and scholar, and highly respected religious authority... do any of these sound like monikers you would ascribe to Mr. Trump? The answer is obvious.

But okay, even though their backgrounds are very different, isn't the message of God calling the most unlikely sinner to greatness still a valid argument, with regard to Mr. Trump? There are two reasons why I say, resoundingly: no. First, to witness the reformation and transformation of a sinner into God's chosen requires that the sinner, y'know, actually reforms. Donald Trump has been utterly unrepentant, as a symptom of his own vanity. Baptist Pastor John Piper penned a piece titled How to Live Under an Unqualified President, in which he enumerates a list of reasons why Trump is immoral. (Side note: I was a little annoyed at how Pastor Piper quietly dismissed Hillary Clinton as equally unqualified without any real discussion, because while she definitely had issues with integrity, he is tacitly promoting a very large false equivalence there).

Similarly, Jesuit Priest James Martin has a piece titled I was a stranger and you did not welcome me in which he explains that the policy ideas which Trump has put forth are, in a very real sense, the anti-Christ. And Pope Francis famously declared that Trump's attitude demostrates that he is not a real Christian. Of course none of these criticisms would matter if they meant this was all leading up to a great transformation of character, that will help usher in God's kingdom. But that's not what the Trump supporters on the radio were talking about, and certainly not what Trump is interested in doing. The message of Paul's transformation has somehow been changed from genuine, heartfelt repentance... into brushing aside any lapse in moral judgment, so long as the offender is wearing the right team's colors. They voted for the immoral Saul, with no serious demand to ever see him changed into Paul.

Secondly, and even more importantly, is that Saul of the New Testament was not transformed by a vote of the people; he was transformed by the Holy Spirit. We don't get to dictate how/when the Holy Spirit works, or campaign for God's plan to occur only within our predetermined framework. "His ways are higher than our ways," as Isaiah says. Saul of the New Testament already had the approval of human institutions when he was authorized to round up and slaughter members of the Christian sect. It was not man's will, or the electoral college, that changed him. It was the genuine power of Christ. We cannot be so vain to imagine that a human popularity contest has the same power to compel a real change of heart, least of all from someone who's spent their career craving attention. While I do believe that God is changing and molding the characters of all of us, all the time, He does so on His schedule, not on our election cycle.

So to any of my Christian friends who may have been enticed, during the campaign, by this comparison of New Testament Saul to Trump, I ask you: can you imagine that God could have used someone like Hillary Clinton to do His will? "Have we not all one Father?"

Having categorically brushed aside this comparison between Trump and NT Saul, I will concede that there may still be a valid Biblical comparison to be made. If I had to pick between the two, I'd say Trump is a lot more like Saul of the Old Testament. Old Testament Saul, aka King Saul, is not nearly as well known as New Testament Saul. But his story is fascinating in its own right. It begins by explaining that OT Saul was the son of an incredibly wealthy and influential father - in other words, he came from money and grew up with a silver spoon. The story continues by explaining how he spent his youth essentially chasing tail (or "seeking asses," as the Bible puts it), with no strong sense of purpose in life. Then, through a series of unexpected events, Saul of the Old Testament becomes king of all Israel, to the complete surprise of everyone - including himself! And even after having accepted this prestigious appointment, he shows a reluctance to lead, and instead returns to continue to run his family business, tending to his field.

When King Saul eventually does take up his mantle, he displays utter disregard for even his own most-trusted advisors. And his brutal foreign policy, while at first appearing successful, eventually leads the kingdom into division and disarray, embroiling them in conflict with the Amalekites for generations. Moreover, in the face of an actual terrorist threat, OT Saul proved to be utterly unqualified and helpless. When the Philistines besieged them, Saul could do nothing, and it was his eventual-successor David who had to clean up the mess for him. David became a war hero, and while at first Saul congratulated him for this, he quickly grew jealous of David's renown. He went on to insult, betray, and persecute the war hero unjustly. And famously, King Saul struggled with irrational and erratic outbursts that became increasingly difficult to manage. He refused to let go of perceived slights and pursued his offenders relentlessly, blinding himself to reality.

The story of Saul of the Old Testament quickly starts to resemble watching a train run off the tracks, in slow motion. As his reign continued, Saul became increasingly unhinged. His mind started to unravel. And this happened at the alarm of his closest aides, who proved to be incompentent themselves and unable to deal with their troubled leader. Eventually, Saul did himself in, committing suicide when he was forced to come face-to-face with his own failures. I sincerely hope President Trump is never inspired to commit suicide. But outside of that final point, which of the two comparisons do you think is more fitting?

Am I being a little bit unfair by making this second comparison? Perhaps. (I certainly employed a few clever plays on words.) But just as I believe King Saul was doing his best, but ultimately was not the right man for the job, I can concede that Mr. Trump has what he believes are good intentions. But if the history of King Saul taught us anything, it's that unhinged leaders are unreliable and eventually and inevitably bring about their own demise.

For those of you unfamiliar, the Trinity, or Godhead, is the popular Christian concept that God consists of three-persons-in-one: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. This same concept is represented more succinctly by the slogan, "Jesus is God." This is a commonly accepted belief in many Christian churches, now considered orthodox, but it was not always as widespread as it is today.

I've been reading a fascinating history book called When Jesus Became God by Richard Rubenstein. The book covers the history of the "Arian Controversy," which includes the famous Council of Nicaea, at the end of the 4th century. This was the point in history when various Christian Bishops came together to flesh out official church doctrine, and this was when they formally consented to the idea that God and Jesus are homoousios, a Greek word borrowed from pagan philosophy, which means "the same stuff." I find it fascinating that any meaningful sense of consensus was largely absent from this council. The Christian community was essentially split down the middle on this idea, and quite a lot of politics, human posturing, and personal amibition went into it. History also shows that this one simple decision quickly reverberated with a lot of unnecessary and ironically un-Christian violence.

Now I don't mean to reignite a centuries-old turf war. But regardless of what church councils "decided," or what's considered popular today, I'd like to examine the question of who God is, and how Jesus fits into that picture, from the perspective of what the Bible actually says and what the teachings of Christian Science reveal. As Isaiah says, Come now, and let us reason together.

The First Commandment of Judaism and Christianity states that there is one God. What does this mean? Clearly this is opposed to atheism, which says there is no God. And it's similarly opposed to pantheism, which says there are many gods. It's generally accepted, also, that God has the following four properties:

• God is omnipotent, meaning He's all powerful / there's nothing He can't do
• God is omniscient, meaning He knows everything
• God is omnipresent, meaning He fills all space
• God is omnibenevolent, which means He is all good

Those "omni-" words don't appear directly in the Bible, but are they supported by it? Does the Bible imply that God is omnipotent? Well, I can tell you that no less than four times, Jesus said, "all things are possible to God." Check! How about omniscient? In 1st John it says that "God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things." Check! Omnipresent? Look no further than the poetry of the Psalms: #139 essentially says yes. Lastly, is God good? Well, if he wasn't, it'd be pretty scary praying to Him! But if you're looking for Biblical support, Jesus said, "Why do you call me 'good'? There is none good except God alone."

Now any freshman philosophy major can explain to you that there's no being who could possibly exist in our physical universe that truly has all four of those properties at the same time (and they'd be right), because of something called the problem of evil. But today's post is not to try and dissect that paradox -- that's a whole other can of worms! So for the sake of argument, we'll just take it on faith that God is indeed all-powerful, all-knowing, omnipresent good. Question: can an all-good, all-powerful, all-knowing, omnipresent being be a person?

Again, let me reiterate that lots and lots of people -- many of them smarter than me -- have already thought through this same question over the ages. In fact, one example of someone else who's thought about this question a little bit is Carl Sagan, the famous astrophysicist. Here's a quote from him:

The idea that God is an oversized white male with a flowing beard who sits in the sky and tallies the fall of every sparrow is ludicrous. But if by God one means the set of physical laws that govern the universe, then clearly there is such a God. This God is emotionally unsatisfying. It does not make much sense to pray to the law of gravity.
--Carl Sagan

We seem to be at a crossroads.

On the one hand, the orthodox Christian belief of Jesus as God provides a lot of comfort. To think that there's an infinitely powerful personal friend, ready to help you out of trouble and save you from despair in this physical life, is understandably appealing. But under the microscope of rational thought, inconsistencies start to appear. And if there's some additional qualifications that come with this (i.e. do/say the right thing or you're damned), one starts to question the "omnibenevolent" part. Dig deep enough and things might even seem "ludicrous," as Mr. Sagan put it.

On the other hand, what if God is simply the name for all the principles and laws governing the physical universe? Well then we can see that these are ever-present, and all-powerful by definition, but it just seems like such a cop-out. Those laws don't seem very intelligent, and certainly not very good. Instead it all seems chaotic, unknowable, and feels so cold. It certainly doesn't meet our criteria of the four "omni"s.

But what if I told you that there was a simple mistake with both of these approaches, and indeed, there's a third answer? On the one hand, if you start by saying, "I see, feel, hear, etc. with my material senses, and my material body is who I am," and then you remember reading in the Bible that "God created mankind in His image and likeness," you might naturally think, "well that means God must be just like me -- a material body. And hey, Jesus had one of those! Therefore Jesus must be God." Or on the other hand, if you start by saying, "I see, feel, hear, etc. with my material senses, and my material body is who I am," and then you study the scientific method, you might say, "everything is made out of matter just like me, and there certainly seem to be patterns to what I can observe in the physical world, maybe these patterns are God."

Both of these approaches reason out from the evidence of the material senses. Both start with the idea that I am material, therefore practically everything is material. You try to make God in the image and likeness of yourself. Matter is what we observe with our senses, but the Bible says God is Spirit, and so I think we need to start there. But that's hard, because spiritual things are un-quantifiable. What's the average mass of a mother's love? What's the velocity of it? Its existence is obvious, yet it extends far beyond chemicals and neurons. It can be difficult for people, at first, to reason about things spiritually, because we're not always used to it. But if you don't immediately accept the idea that you are made out of matter, and consider for a moment that instead you are spiritual, then the reasoning goes a little differently. Here's what Mary Baker Eddy, the Founder of Christian Science, had to say:

Human philosophy has made God manlike. Christian Science makes man Godlike. The first is error; the latter is truth. Metaphysics is above physics, and matter does not into metaphysical premises or conclusions.

Christian Science strongly emphasizes the thought that God is not corporeal, but incorporeal -- that is, bodiless. Mortals are corporeal, but God is incorporeal.

As the words person and personal are commonly and ignorantly employed, they often lead, when applied to Deity, to confused and erroneous conceptions of divinity and its dinstinctions from humanity. If the term personality, as applied to God, means infinite personality, then God is infinite Person, -- in the sense of inifinite personality, but not in the lower sense. An infinite Mind in a finite form is an absolute impossibility.

These are just some of the ideas that I'm going to be sharing during a short church meeting this Wednesday, August 24th, here in Madison. I'll be presenting further readings from the Bible as well as more of Eddy's exposition on it, on this same topic, "Is God a person?" If you're interested in finding out a little more, please join me at 7:30 this Wednesday evening.

For a few years now, there have been full, hour-long Christian Science lectures posted on YouTube. If you've never seen one of these before, I really recommend them. They cover a variety of topics and don't let the word "lecture" deter you or imply that they're dry. These are kind of like TED talks, but better. And there are some shorter ones posted, too, to give a sampling of what these are like without having to commit a full hour.

Tonight I watched one titled Purpose: Letting your brilliance shine through by Tom McElroy. The great thing about Christian Science lectures though (in my opinion) is that regardless of what the topic purports to be about, there is something there for you. There is some insight that only you will uniquely glean from listening to the lecture. For instance I wasn't particularly focused on finding my own sense of "purpose" this evening. I actually was stood up for a date so my focus was very different. Even so, I found some valuable, comforting ideas that spoke to me.

Most of all, I think Tom in particular gives a great introduction to Christian Science if you don't know much about it. So if you can spare an hour, I'd really recommend watcing this video. At least add it to your "Watch Later" list. Here's a short excerpt from the video:

To say that there's a science to it [to call it a Christian Science] is to say that if there was ever any truth in that love [if there was ever anything real, anything that actually happened there, anything that ever really took place in the healing, in the love, in the vision; if that was based on anything,] then whatever the truth was behind it [the science of it, the reality of it, the truth of it] still has to be true today. It's timeless. It has to be true for all people under all circumstances. [It has to apply to all people equally.] It's not something we earn or work our way up to and it's not something we can mess up.

Check it out for yourself! I promise you you'll learn something new.

As he went out of Jericho with his disciples and a great number of people, blind Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus, sat by the highway side begging.

I've been sitting here my whole life. What's going to happen today? The same thing that happens every day. People will walk by with their smug looks and feigned sympathy. I'm sick of this. Why did I have to be born this way?

And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out, and say, Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me.

Jesus... I've heard of him! This is my chance! They say he can heal the blind. They say he gives hope to widows. They say he can resurrect the dead. I need to get closer. Jesus, help!

And many charged him that he should hold his peace: but he cried the more a great deal, Thou son of David, have mercy on me.

Wait... what? Why are they arguing against me? These same people who walk by to the temple and look down on me and pretend to wish me well. Why don't they realize that this is what I need? Can they really not see how obtuse they're being? You know what, they have never done anything for me. I need to get closer to Jesus. I don't care what they say. This is my chance. Jesus, please hear me!

And Jesus stood still, and commanded him to be called. And they call the blind man, saying unto him, Be of good comfort, rise; he calleth thee.

He called me. He called me!

And he, casting away his garment, rose, and came to Jesus.

I am done with this life. I am done with this begging, this blindness, this exile within my own body. I am done with it. I am standing up to it and casting it aside once and for all.

And Jesus answered and said unto him, What wilt thou that I should do unto thee? The blind man said unto him, Lord, that I might receive my sight.

Wow. I've never felt a love like this before. That word doesn't even do it justice. I have never felt what I'm feeling now. But his question: what will you do to me? Isn't it obvious? Can't he see who I am? Can't he see what a wretch I am? I want you to heal that, Jesus!

And Jesus said unto him, Go thy way; thy faith hath made thee whole. And immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus in the way.

Wait, he really couldn't see it. I'm not a wretch. I'm not hopeless. He couldn't see it because it's gone. I can see. This is who I've always been. Wow! I feel on fire! I can see! This is what I've always been looking for! I cannot contain or describe this joy I'm feeling! From now on I want to share this with everyone I meet. I have to share this with everyone I meet. He really does heal the blind. I can see! Praise God!

The part that always stands out to me the most in this story is the response by all the other bystanders when Bartimaeus first starts to reach out for Christ. They inexplicably resist his efforts. The question I'm always left with is the question I presented above: Why are they arguing against me? When someone is reaching out for geunine healing, what would you voice to them? Are you one of the voices in the crowd telling them "that's impossible" and essentially "get back in place"? The only explanation I have for why anyone would make these arguments is because they don't realize what they're saying. People get too self-absorbed to recognize what it is they're really communicating to others, otherwise they wouldn't say such things.

It also stems from the belief that people are made up of nothing but matter, and the consequent belief that either God, too, is somehow material, or that He doesn't exist at all. When we think of others as diagnoses, as matter bodies made up of certain proportions, proclivities, and of a certain age, those thoughts limit ourselves and others. And that way of thinking tends to discouarge others from breaking free of those limits. I think this statement by Mary Baker Eddy explains this well:

The belief that God lives in matter is pantheistic. The error, which says that Soul is in body, Mind is in matter, and good is in evil, must unsay it and cease from such utterances; else God will continue to be hidden from humanity, and mortals will sin without knowing that they are sinning, will lean on matter instead of Spirit, stumble with lameness, drop with drunkenness, consume with disease, -- all because of their blindness, their false sense concerning God and man.

The story above highlights Bartimaeus' encounter with the Christ. And it's good to realize that a genuine encounter with Christ is not something that can be faked. It's not something that can be induced by drugs or created through will-power. It's not dependent on ones attendance in church or having the right Sunday School teacher. An encounter with Christ is individual and unmistakeable. It requires both the receptivity of a humble beggar and the willingness to stand up for oneself, acknowledging that one is worthy and that there is hope.

You never know what the people around you may be going through. So today, I encourage you to watch what you say. Don't get caught up in the kind of subtle arguments that effectively tell Bartimaeus to sit back down. Don't think of people as material labels. Don't be a discouraging bystander with a narrow view of reality. See people as spiritual beings, never a mistake, never broken, never less-than. Acknowledge that each person you encounter has a unique purpose only they can fulfill. And that includes you! Be the voice of encouragement, and if you see someone reaching out for Christ, for heaven's sake, don't get in their way!

Suppose you went to a friend's house at midnight, wanting to borrow three loaves of bread. You say to him, "A friend of mine has just arrived for a visit, and I have nothing for him to eat." And suppose he calls out from his bedroom, "Don't bother me. The door is locked for the night, and my family and I are all in bed. I can't help you." But I tell you this -- though he won't do it for friendship's sake, if you keep knocking long enough, he will get up and give you whatever you need because of your shameless persistence. And so I tell you, keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you.

That's the NLT; the KJV uses the word importunity instead of shameless persistence. But you get the idea. Now back to my cat.

She loves going outside. Outside is the most incredible, magical, wonderful, amazing place in the whole wide world to her. She is not an outdoor cat, you see, but I occassionally let her out into the backyard if I'm there to supervise her (because I'd rather not have her run away or get eaten by turkey vultures!).

She spends most of her life inside, and she spends a lot of that life relentlessly meowing at me, asking to be let outside. Of course, I'm a busy guy, so often I simply ignore her wails.

And tonight, I ignored her as I often do. I have a lot of things to work on tonight, so I told her that she'd have to wait until tomorrow. But something was noticeably different tonight. Her meows were louder and more frequent. They sounded almost pained; you could hear the desperation in them. And as she kept that up, I had a change of heart. I decided I'd make a little time in my schedule to play with the cat outside. She was very happy about this.

Maybe you've wanted something for a long time that doesn't seem to be happening; you've wanted it badly. Maybe you've even consciously prayed about it, but nothing seems to be moving. I like Jesus' short parable, because it reassures us that we we will get what we need as we keep asking. I had ignored my cat's pleas, but as she kept asking, it touched me. I wanted to change my own schedule to accomodate her better. And if just the simple cry of a cat can implore a man to do that, imagine how much more of an effect your prayers -- the prayers of a beloved son/daughter of God -- can have with your Heavenly Father.

Now, I don't think the analogy is perfect, so don't try to dissect it too much. I don't think God is actively ignoring you because He's too busy making spaghetti, for instance, and that your prayers will change His schedule. Not at all. In fact, I'm quite sure God is always listening and unfolding things just when you're ready for them.

I think the moral of this story is less about the final effect, and more about your approach. Being "shamelessly persistent" is a quality sometimes looked down upon. People who are "shamelessly persistent" might be labeled as "someone who won't take 'no' for answer." And certainly, there is a line to be drawn with obsession. But to me, the reason Jesus praises the value of importunity is because it means that you're starting to believe that you deserve the things you're asking for -- that you haven't been disqualified or excluded from goodness. And you believe it enough to keep asking for it, despite opposition.

Earlier this evening, my cat's need was to go into the backyard. She kept asking, and she got what she was asking for. If the cat can do it, so can you.

What Jesus has to say to the ten lepers in the story is interesting. Without hesitation, he commands them, saying, "go and show yourselves to the priests." This command only makes sense for people who don't have leprosy. I believe Jesus totally saw past the leprosy -- he refused to see the leprosy -- and instead saw nothing but the reflection of the Almighty in each of them. Jesus saw beyond the surface appearance and deep into the real, spiritual substance of who they were and Who created them. This reminds me of the following statement, by Mary Baker Eddy:

Jesus beheld in Science the perfect man, who appeared to him where sinning mortal man appears to mortals. In this perfect man the Saviour saw God's own likeness, and this correct view of man healed the sick.

Then, as the men walked on their way, they were cleansed -- the leprosy simply stopped existing. It miraculously disappeared from each of their experiences. And at that point, as the Bible describes, one of these ten stopped, turned around, and thanked God profusely before continuing on to the priest. Only one. The other nine just kept walking as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

I confess that the latter part of the story has always baffled me the most. Why wouldn't all of them be singing in the streets, leaping and dancing for joy? If you had been burdened with a horrible, incurable skin disease that left you excluded from society and from basic human rights, and then someone healed you of that, how could anyone NOT be overflowing with thankfulness? Could those nine men really have been that aloof and ungrateful?

Thinking about this story, I turned that question on myself -- which in general is a practice I'd always recommend. How many victories in my own life have I completely glossed over as if nothing special has happened? How many times have I written off the divine to stay focused on the task at hand? It's true that I can't claim anything quite as fantastic as an instantaneous healing of leprosy in my own life. But how many other lesser battles that I've triumphed over have I failed to give thanks for, or even acknowledge at all?

I have had some breakthrough moments that, to me, unequivocally reassure me that God cares for me and is operative in my life. But when all the persistent, nagging, unresolved issues seem to pile up during the week, how easy it is to forget those blessings. I think there's a message in this story about taking time out of the day, on a consistent basis, to thank God for the good in our lives. We should thank Him for everything good, big or small. Whether it's a breakthrough epiphany or just the smile of a friend, goodness, by definition, comes from God. So don't forget to stop and give thanks before getting swept up in the busyness of daily life. It's worth it!

If you were looking forward to reading four posts in this series, I apologize, as this is the final post. That's because when someone else is at the heart of a scandal, the Biblical advice is the same whether they're guilty or not! More on that in a moment.

The first lesson on what to do when controversy has arisen which you are a witness to, but not the cause of, is to slow down and withhold judgment. Don't lash out with knee-jerk reactionary comments; first make sure you've got all the facts. And always consider that you could be the one who's mistaken. This is said succinctly by the writer of Proverbs: "Fools vent their anger, but the wise quietly hold it back."

Suppose you have been patient, careful, and the evidence clearly shows the offending party was wrong. Then what? Now you get to condemn them, right? No. Even if someone is legitimately in the wrong, the Bible recommends to try and redeem the situation rather than condemning it. Here's a story to illustrate.

Once upon a time, a woman cheated on her husband, was caught while doing it, and was dragged out into the town square in front of a man named Jesus. The men who dragged her out there had their own ulterior motives for doing so -- they wanted to show everyone that Jesus wasn't as good of a church leader as they were -- so they angrily asked what should be done with the woman. Keep in mind, at the time adultery meant you could be stoned to death.

Jesus' first response was to not respond at all. He ignored the men and played tic-tac-toe. But more than just pretending he didn't hear them, I think he was using that time to pray and listen for God's direction, rather than be swept up in emotion. He finally responded by forcing the men to examine their own behavior rather than the woman's. He said, "Let the one among you who has never sinned throw the first stone at her." One by one they all left. And he didn't throw a stone, either.

He told her, "I do not condemn you. Now go and sin no more." This meant that he didn't let her off the hook for the bad behavior; he was quite clear that what she had done needed to stop. But he separated the behavior from who she was, and focused on redeeming the person more than condemning the misdeed. Interestingly, he couldn't stop the controversy from happening in the first place, and to some extent he let her feel the sting of her own actions. But he also didn't let things stay there. He showed that Christ comes to lift us up, not to drag us down with drama and criticism.

In that case, the cause for controversy was legitimate. Other times, it's not. The fact that you don't know is all the more reason to remain calm and don't take things personally. Even when an issue seem deeply personal, don't make a big drama out of it. It's still better to walk away from the situation for a while, than to lash out emotionally.

Consider the story of Joseph, husband of Mary. His fiancée told him she was pregnant, but he knew well they hadn't slept together. I see him as a man who had been trying his best to do things the right way. They were waiting until marriage, and keeping God at the center of their relationship. So I can only imagine the shock and disappointment he would've felt upon learning that his wife-to-be was carrying someone's child.

Did he yell and scream at her? Or turn violent? Or drag her out into the town square for judgment? No, instead: "Joseph, being a just man, and not willing to make her a public example, was minded to put her away privily." Or as another translation puts it: "he decided to break his engagement quietly." He didn't respond by immediately telling all his Facebook friends how awful Mary had been to him, or spouting off vitriol. He kept calm, kept it in, and quietly went to God with the problem.

This is such a powerful lesson, when you think about it. I stand in awe of Joseph's quiet strength. Eddy puts it this way: "We must love our enemies in all the manifestations wherein and whereby we love our friends; must even try not to expose their faults, but to do them good whenever opportunity occurs." Joseph refused to expose what seemed like huge, hurtful faults on Mary's part. And this mindset made him receptive to the miraculous revelation of the truth. He heard an angel message from God reassuring him that her child was conceived of the Holy Ghost. Something bigger was going on.

Whether a person is guilty of an offense or not, the way we treat them should be virtually the same. Look for ways to redeem the situation, put a stop to emotional and sensational reactions, and always have compassion.

But that does leave one lingering question: what if something bad is still going on, but it's not clear (or provable) who or what is causing it? Then, remember Jesus' promise: "there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; neither hid, that shall not be known." Bad behavior always tries to cover itself up, but the Bible promises that eventually it fails at doing so. So as you pray for direction, trust that whatever needs to come out, will. In the meantime, our role is not be the referee of others' lives. The best role we can hope to fill is to be like Christ, looking for ways to uplift and transform the situation rather than getting sucked into the downward pull of criticism and reaction.

I hope you enjoyed this series. I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments section.

If someone's ever said hurtful things about you, or accused you of something you didn't do, you can end up feeling pretty hurt yourself. And the accuser might be oblivious, or just insensitive, to how much trouble they've caused you. Often, people will see what they want to see, which means if they are determined to see the worst in you, they will. They'll either find a reason to hate you, or make one up. If you've ever been on the receiving end of that negativity, you might want to run away and hide in a cave. But before you do, you'll want to know what practical advice the Bible has to offer.

And actually... running away can sometimes be a good choice! It depends on the circumstance, of course, but in some cases the wisest course of action may be to maintain a healthy amount of distance. This is exactly what King David did in the Bible.

David didn't do anything wrong during his time serving under King Saul, but his accomplishments quickly became a source of jealousy for the king. Eddy touched on this when she wrote: "Your advancing course may provoke envy, but it will also attract respect." It was Saul's insecurity and weakness that brought on the false accusations. He even tried to kill David by throwing a javelin at him. But do you know how David responded? Not by throwing a javelin back, but rather: "David avoided out of his presence twice." In other words, he kept a healthy amount of distance from a tough situation.

But that's not always possible. Sometimes you have no choice but to continue interaction with someone who has it out for you. So what then? Be on your best behavior. Earlier I wrote about the importance of doing the right thing after you've made a mistake. It may actually be more important to do the right thing when you haven't made any mistakes -- but when you've got green eyes watching your every move. The Bible touches on this too; it says, "David behaved himself wisely in all his ways, and the Lord was with him."

"But that's not fair," you might say, "I'm innocent!" These sorts of situations are tools that help us grow. The writer of Proverbs says, "as iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Wouldn't you agree that these things force you to stay sharp? That's not a bad thing; it's an opportunity to grow. It can ultimately draw out the very best in you. Eddy has this to say: "Whatever purifies, sanctifies, and consecrates human life, is not an enemy, however much we suffer in the process."

Most important of all, though, is to remember that hatred won't get you anywhere. If someone has decided to hate you, whether unwittingly or intentionally, you cannot respond in kind. You have to rise higher, find some way to honest-to-goodness love them, and trust God to work out the details. Kill 'em with kindness, as they say. Remember that your accuser isn't the one who gets to make a final judgment call, even if they're in a position of authority. Real authority only ever comes from God, and Love always gets the last word.

When Daniel was thrown into a den of lions for violating a trumped-up charge, he didn't confront his accusers. He didn't harbor any hatred toward them at all. Joseph's story is even more inspiring. His brothers left him for dead, he was falsely accused of rape, and was imprisoned for years. He had every right to be angry. But instead, he met his accusers with tears of joy in his eyes. And with magnanimous forgiveness, he said, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good."

Please don't think I'm saying that you should gloss over false accusations. After all, one of the commandments is "Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor." You want the truth to come out; you want redemption. It will happen. (Maybe not with fanfare, but it will.)

I'm also not implying there's an easy way to skip directly to "Go" and collect $200. The Bible doesn't promise any shortcuts. Part of the growing experience can be learning to stand up for yourself -- but always in a way that doesn't make it personal. This may involve speaking boldly, or it may involve remaining silent. The only way to know for sure, in your situation, is to pray. Ask God what to do. And then trust His answer. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. I'll close this post with a few Biblical promises that are heartening.

"Humble yourself under God's mighty hand, that He may lift you up in due time." (Peter)

"No weapon turned against you will succeed. You will silence every voice raised up to accuse you." (Isaiah)

"You will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position, and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf." (Chronicles)

"I won't be afraid of thousands of people surrounding me on all sides. Rescue comes from the Lord!" (David)

"The Lord says, 'I will give you back what you lost.'" (Joel)

The next few blogs I'll be writing are going to be a series on how to handle controversy, within and without. I'll be sharing what the Bible teaches, as well as including some quotes from 19th century pastor and teacher Mary Baker Eddy. In thinking about this topic, I realized that you can break down controversies into four categories using a "Punnett square" of scenarios. At the heart of every scandal, there's always someone who stands accused of wrongdoing. That person is either you, or someone who is not you. That's one axis of our Punnett square. And with every accusation of wrongdoing, that accusation is either well-founded, or malicious. It's either true, or false. So here goes... starting off with controversy aimed at you, when you really did do something wrong.

We all make mistakes. At one point or another, it's rather inevitable that you'll do something wrong. So what do you do if you've slipped up? Do you condemn yourself to hell and throw in the towel? Or do you hide your error and hope that no one notices? Both of those responses are actually quite common. I know I've attempted both myself at different points! But as you've already guessed, neither response has any Biblical basis, nor do they ever prove to be remotely helpful. So what then?

First of all, don't lie. Don't ever lie. The writer of Proverbs tells us: "People who conceal their sins will not prosper, but if they confess and turn from them, they will receive mercy." I believe that God is Truth itself, and since each one of us is created in the image and likeness of God, in the image and likeness of Truth, it is in our nature to be truthful and honest. It goes against our nature to lie. Mary Baker Eddy put it this way: "Honesty is spiritual power. Dishonesty is human weakness, which forfeits divine help."

Secondly, do the right thing! If you've done something wrong, you won't ever improve your situation by just continuing in it. Make a U-turn and start doing the right thing, and do it right away! Jesus has a wonderful lesson about this in what's called the Parable of the Two Sons. He tells a group of church authority figures a story about a man with two sons. The man owns the family business -- a vineyard -- and tells both his sons to go out and work. The first one impudently says, "no way!" while the second one says, "sure thing, dad!" But both of them are liars. The first one changes his mind and does go to work after all. The second one, who said he would... doesn't. Jesus brings home the point when he asks which one truly obeyed his father. And even though the road to get there was a little messy, it's clear that the first son was in the right. Eddy puts it this way: "If you believe in and practise wrong knowingly, you can at once change your course and do right."

Thirdly, apologize where needed. But in so doing, you don't have to turn guilt into a false idol. Sometimes there can be a tendency to just gush when admitting to wrongdoing. I remember the first time I ever received a speeding ticket -- only nine days after being awarded my driver's license. I drove home immediately, crying, and handed the car keys to my mom telling her I was the worst driver ever. She just thought the whole thing was terribly funny -- mostly because of my own overreaction. And she was right! Humor can be a wonderful antidote to defuse the hurt feelings that come with admitting to wrongdoing. But unfortunately, not everyone receives apologies so gracefully. So if you've done something wrong, correct it, learn from it, apologize where needed (even if you don't want to!), but move on. Don't carry your guilt around forever. You don't have to constantly keep going back over the offense like a broken record.

Sometimes people will forgive you, and sometimes they won't. But how anyone else reacts, long term, is not your responsibility. The issue is always between you and God alone. But on this topic, the story of Ananias and Paul is so heartening. Paul, previously named Saul, had been a killer of Christians. You could say he was doing the wrong thing! But when he finally realized it, he had a profound 180° turnaround. Ananias, himself a Christian disciple, had heard of Saul and wanted nothing to do with him. But he was called by God not only to forgive Paul, but also to heal him. And so he did. That same healing principle is just as true today -- people that you've hurt and people that don't like you still have an open door to see what God sees in you. God can speak to them as He did with Ananias.

Oh, and last but not least, pray! God is listening and will help you. It is "His good pleasure to give you the kingdom." That "kingdom of heaven" being referred to isn't a far off promise or some cosmological locale; the very act of doing right, right now, is its own reward. That is heaven. And there are so many stories about how God, more than in other situations, helps people who are trying to turn around from a difficult or scandalous circumstance. You can't control how other people will react. But you can control your own actions and then trust God for the resolution. It may not be a flashy news story proclaiming your greatness and glory, but you can trust it will be good. And as you'll see in my next post, that can pay off!

In the first season, the big reveal was finding out that the source of the show's mysterious blackout was in quadrillions of tiny little robots floating ubiquitously in the air. The second season revelation is that these nanomachines have become intelligent and self-aware. One character points out that the human brain is little more than electrical signals bouncing around in a network, and that this machine was functioning in an identical way. And because of its sheer scope, for all intents and purposes, the machine had become God.

The ideas are cleverly presented, though intellectually rather stale. Nevertheless, they raise some important and fun questions:

• Are you and I electrical signals bouncing around in a network of neurons?
• Is consciousness determined and defined by brain matter? (or robots?)
• Can we expect to find God manifested in some material form?

Recently I discovered a fascinating interview which sheds some light on these questions and more. The folks from the Christian Science Journal had a chance to speak with Dr. Eben Alexander regarding his recent book, Proof of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon's Journey into the Afterlife. The Journal interview does a good job of culling many of the important points, and can be read online at this link.

As Dr. Alexander's subtitle suggests, he was a neurosurgeon -- and a rather prestigous one I gather, as his résumé includes 25 years of practice at well-known hospitals like Harvard Medical School, Brigham & Women's, and more. And for all of his career he was a self-described skeptic with perhaps even more of a dismissively materialistic view of the universe than the NBC writers. That changed after the big event described in his book, and as you can see based off what he has to say now:

"The pure, scientific, materialist model that I worshipped for so many years has absolutely nothing to offer up in terms of explaining how consciousness might emerge from the physical brain. [...] Pure materialism does not explain the nature of existence in reality. [...] It's time for brain science, mind science, physics, cosmology, to move from kindergarten up into first grade and realize we will never truly understand consciousness with that simplistic materialist mindset."

The interview highlights the event that inspired his book. Briefly, he contracted a rare form of meningitis which, over time, totally destroyed his neocortex and left him brain dead. He was in a coma for a week with literally zero brain activity. There was nothing left to have activity! Prior to this, he had written off anyone claiming "near death experiences" as delusional, most likely having hallucinated their "journeys" due to random synapses firing. But in his own experience, he had no brain activity. His neocortex was physically gone. Yet, as he explains, through it all his consciousness continued uninterrupted.

He discovered that life and consciousness is ultimately "all one, and divine at the core." He felt a reassurance telling him, "you are loved; you can't do anything wrong; you have nothing to fear." Jumping in with my own thoughts... I think those three messages echo well what's written in 1 John 4:19, Romans 8:38-39, and Isaiah 41:10, respectively.

It's a fascinating interview in so many ways, and gives us glimpses at the real nature of consciousness and reality. (Read it yourself!) So while I do continue to watch "Revolution" on NBC for the entertainment value, the real "revolution" going on is this realization that matter doesn't determine consciousness; it's the other way around!

Dear Gordon,

Get out of your
dorm room!

Love,
Gordon

That's what I would say to my college-aged self if I could. In college, I spent too much time cooped up in my dorm room. I'm an introspective person, and Christian Science is a religion that focuses on entering into what's called a "prayer closet," a term first used by Jesus and later echoed by Mary Baker Eddy. But I've seen, in myself and others, that sometimes that prayer closet can be less about genuine prayer and instead can become gradually, subtly, more about hiding.

But what I've seen in studying Christian Science is that neither Jesus nor Mary Baker Eddy were very prone to timidity. Jesus promises that each of us are the light of the world, and that when you light a candle you shouldn't hide it under a bushel, but rather you have to hold it up on a candlestick so others can see it! Rather than promoting acedia, Christian Science is a religion with a strong emphasis on overcoming fear.

The story most illustrative of this point is that of Jesus walking on the water found in Matthew 14. When the disciples see Jesus literally walking on the water, they're terrified. They think they've seen a ghost. What's the first thing he does? Calms their fear. Jesus reassures them that it's only their beloved teacher and there's nothing to worry about. They still doubt this, so they put him to the test. Peter, the disciple, asks if he can join him on the water, as a litmus test for whether he was the real deal or not. Without any hesitation, Jesus agrees, thereby helping assuage his students' fear.

Then we see the most inspiring and instructive part of the story: Peter runs out on the water to meet him. For a few brief moments, he has no inhibitions about this. Peter too starts literally walking on the water. But as soon as he notices the storm going around on him, he starts to doubt and consequently starts to sink. And as the Bible says, Jesus "immediately stretched out his hand and caught him." And the storm subsided, too.

I've learned to love that story more and more. Because what Jesus was doing in that story was teaching us about how the Christ operates in our lives today. When we're frightened by unknown surroundings, the Christ is there, calling out to us, reassuring us that we're in good company. When we doubt this, we can put it to practical tests, which the Christ does respond to. And when we have the boldness and conviction to do what is asked of us, we see that same Christly nature reflected in ourselves, perhaps in ways that seem remarkable even to ourselves. And even if we stumble, we can trust that the Christ is there to catch us without hesitation.

But in order to see any of this put into practice, we first have to have the willingness to step out of the boat. If not literally, then at least figuratively! Remaining in the boat represents trying to stay within a very narrow comfort zone -- perhaps a college dorm room -- which in fact isn't always all that comfortable. In the middle of a storm that comfort zone can be rocking back forth and even become waterlogged. The choice we have to make is whether we want to be like one of the eleven disciples who aren't really mentioned in that story, standing still and perhaps a bit seasick, or if we'd rather be more like Peter, willing to take a risk and try something new at Christ's calling.

My advice? Try things! There are so many opportunities in college, in life, anywhere you are. Don't be afraid to try something new. Christ will be there with you, always.

Shortly thereafter, just as Paul had predicted, they encountered a huge storm called a nor'easter that was going to run the ship aground. And in the midst of the storm, Paul received another intuition from God -- which we can apply to our lives today. Here's what he said to the soldiers, sailors, and fellow prisoners:

Men, you should have listened to me in the first place and not left Crete. You would have avoided all this damage and loss. But take courage! None of you will lose your lives, even though the ship will go down.

How often are we determined that we are going to get to our destination -- whether that's a certain career, or a marriage, or family event -- on our own schedule, no matter what, even though we may have seen the warning signs? We want it to be this ship, right now.

On the other hand, I'm not saying you should always jump ship at the first sign of trouble. Sometimes we need to have a little more faith. But when it's gotten to the point that warning signs have grown into a painful storm, perhaps it's time to take an honest look at the situation, and start listening for God's voice over our own desires.

Even as the ship is going down, it can be tempting to think "but the captain always goes down with the ship!" as if that sentiment makes us more honorable than the other passengers. The thing is: you're not the captain! And you'll never be.

So let go of the wreckage and start swimming back to shore. That isn't selfish. Let God guide you back to still waters. And don't try to use other passengers as personal life preservers, either! You have to let them swim, too. Remember God's promise: "none of you will lose your lives, even though the ship will go down." Almighty Love is watching over you, as well as anyone else who was aboard that ship.

Whatever ship may have just crashed was not your final journey. Next time, you'll be more able and determined to listen to the real Captain, and to set sail on His schedule. He will get you where you need to be. He's already doing so right now.

"I was crushed," he said, "I wanted something so bad, that when you get rejected, it really hurts. [...] It really crippled me." Before getting back up and trying again, he decided he needed to deal with his fear of rejection. He discovered a program called "Rejection Therapy," where people intentionally put themselves in situations where they are sure to be rejected, in an effort to numb themselves to it.

I'm not really sold on the idea of "rejection therapy" myself. But I could definitely relate to his description of feeling "crippled" by rejection, and his earnest desire to get past that. He goes onto explain that during his rejection therapy, when he expected to hear "no," he started to hear "yes"es (to his pleasant surprise!). The most memorable "yes" was when he asked a Krispy Kreme worker to make him custom donuts, not on the menu. Not only did they do this for him, but they did so free of charge.

It's gotten me thinking about this deeper issue of rejection. Lots of people develop a strong aversion to rejection which can end up buried beneath the surface -- whether that's rejection by a romantic interest, or by investors, employers, or perhaps by ones own parents. The sting of rejection can make you want to throw in the towel and just be done with life. So I started doing a little digging through the Bible along with Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures for answers to the question: how do I get past rejection? Does Jesus provide any instructions for Christians on this?

The good news is: yes, he does! Let me quote a passage from Scripture, in two different Bible translations:

Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.

Don't bargain with God. Be direct. Ask for what you need.

In both translations, Jesus encourages you to ask for what you need, to be specific about your request, and promises that your request will be fulfilled. Jesus doesn't say, "ask, and if it's not given to you, then you might as well quit." No, if we are going to expect goodness, we must keep asking and striving for it. It isn't our job to open the door; it's only our job to knock. It's God's job to open the door, when we let Him.

I believe that God puts desires in our heart for a reason. But sometimes we feel the influence of the world and start to believe that we desire things that we don't really want. So there's a distinction to be made between real desires and unreal desires. Real desires come from God, while unreal ones don't. Real desires have a plan of fulfillment already in place, unreal desires must pass away. And because real desires come from God, they can never really die.

Rejection can seem like an aggressive voice trying to say that your real desires are illegitimate, or that you're not good enough to have those desires fulfilled, and so on. But that "voice" is nothing but a lie, repeating itself. Even in the fires of rejection, a real desire cannot ever burn away, though it certainly can be purified and refined.

So what do you do when faced with rejection? Keep asking for what you need. Keep striving for it. Be importunate. (Look it up.) But you also have to be humble enough to listen for the answer, even if it doesn't come in the form that you had in mind. It may seem like the world will not make room for you, but when you shut out the voice of rejection and humbly listen for the voice of God, you will find whatever it is you need. That's a promise.

In the parable, a master gives different amounts of money to three of his servants, and then leaves to go on vacation. He gives five talents ($2.5 million) to guy #1, two talents ($1 million) to guy #2, and one talent ($500K) to guy #3. And he tells all three of them to look after his money while he's gone. The first two trade the money around (on their equivalent of the stock market), and they both double what they have. The third one buries the money in the ground to keep it safe.

When their master gets back, the first servant explains that he now has $5 million. The master is elated, and rewards him. The second servant explains that he now has $2 million, and the master is equally happy with him as he was with the first guy. But when the third servant reveals that he still has the exact same amount that he started with, the master is furious and scolds him harshly, saying that the servant should have at least put the money in a savings account where it would have earned interest.

The point of the story is all about using what you've been given. And it's about more than just literally investing money in the stock market; we can actually substitute in today's meaning of the word "talent" (meaning skill) to gain some insight.

Maybe you've been given a talent for cooking, or a talent for raising children, or a talent for playing the flute. What this parable teaches us is that you've got to use your talents! Jesus even starts out by saying, "The kingdom of heaven is [like this]..." The kingdom of heaven is like taking risks to use your talents, rather than burying them in the ground with fear, doubt, lack of confidence, and so on. The final servant, the one who was reprimanded, hides his talent and never uses it. The world has no idea that his talent ever existed. And Jesus is clear that this servant's mentality is NOT heaven.

This is something that I've had to work on over time. I play a number of musical instruments. Anyone who knows me personally knows this, but if you didn't know me personally, you might not have known. I admit: I haven't done the best job really using those talents, and that's actually something I've been thinking about.

Recently I came across the following quotation from Dave Grohl, the frontman of Foo Fighters (and former drummer of Nirvana). This quote was taken from a profanity-laden magazine interview. I've highlighted (and edited) the part that relates:

When I think about kids watching a TV show like American Idol or The Voice, then they think, "Oh, OK, that's how you become a musician, you stand in line for eight hours with 800 people at a convention center and then you sing your heart out for someone and then they tell you it's not good enough." Can you imagine? It's destroying the next generation of musicians! Musicians should go to a yard sale and buy an old junky drum set and get in their garage and just suck. And get their friends to come in and they'll suck, too. And then they'll start playing and they'll have the best time they've ever had in their lives and then all of a sudden they'll become Nirvana. Because that's exactly what happened with Nirvana. Just a bunch of guys that had some junky old instruments and they got together and started playing some noisy garbage, and they became the biggest band in the world. That can happen again! You don't need a computer or the Internet or The Voice or American Idol.

I think Mr. Grohl is actually spot-on here. I confess that I've had trouble with my own perfectionist nature when it comes to this kind of thing. I often don't want to show anyone a finished product unless I know it's absolutely perfect. The trouble with that attitude is that it often ends up paralyzing your creative spirit, because then it's never quite perfect enough. If everything has to be American Idol-quality stuff, then no one but a superhero could ever get started. Mr. Grohl's comments that you just have to take the plunge with your musical talents, even when you still sound awful, really parallel Jesus' parable a lot. And you can apply that same mentality to any sort of talent.

Don't let criticism, or pessimism, or perfectionism, or fear bury your talents in the ground. Anybody can be a critic. But only you can use the unique set of talents that you've been given in the unique way that you know how to use them. So what if they're not perfectly developed yet? You can't be sure how well they'll be received until you start using them. But you can be sure that they will never be received at all until you start using and sharing them with the world. So get out there and use them! Yes there are risks. Yes there are fears to overcome. And yes there will be criticism. But the promise is that you'll get to enjoy what Dave Grohl calls "the best time you'll ever have," and what Jesus calls "heaven."

This idea progressed and unfolded over the next several months. I carefully digitized each of the drawings and made tweaks to them. I spoke with an editor about shortening the script. And I even composed a score of background music and roped some of my students into recording different parts for me. 

Without further ado, I now present to you the finished product: Episode 1 of Stick Figure Scriptures:

And in case you'd like to hear the background music I wrote for this, I've made that available on my SoundCloud page. Enjoy!

I heard an analogy recently that I love. Suppose you put on a pair of glasses, and then later you notice that a friend has some kind of strange mark on their face. You point that out to them in the hopes that they do something about it. A little while later you notice another friend with a similar mark. So you point that out as well, because they need to be aware of the problem if they're going to fix it. Later a third friend has the same mark. After awhile you realize that the problem doesn't really lie with all those other people, but the real problem comes from a defect in the glasses you're wearing. So you take those glasses off and -- lo and behold -- no one seems to have that problem any more!

When it seems like circumstances never quite work out, or that people always tend to act a certain way, or even if you just feel some mild fear or anxiety about what someone might do or say, it's useful to realize that we, too, can take off those glasses of despair, and change our perspective. The problem doesn't lie out there with all of them, and it doesn't even exist as an unfortunate, permanent part of us. No matter how discouraging or offensive that problem "out there" may seem, it's a defect in the glasses -- not in reality. So just take off the glasses! That is always a choice. 

So when I was feeling burdened at the beginning of my jog, I remembered that idea. Then, almost instantly, that burden just vanished. Recently I heard a song on the radio that really speaks to this concept. It's called Strangely Dim by Francesca Battistelli. Here's a part of the lyrics that seems apropos:

But when I fix my eyes
On all that You are
Then every doubt I feel
Deep in my heart
Grows strangely dim

All my worries fade
And fall to the ground
Cause when I seek Your face
And don't look around
Any place I'm in
Grows strangely dim

I love those lyrics because I can prove them myself. When we focus too much on a specific person -- even when those thoughts are good -- that can breed anxiety. But when we instead take the focus off that person and onto God -- on infinite, boundless Love -- then worries really do start to "fade and fall to the ground." The reason for this is because there is no person on earth that is big enough to be God. Only God can do that. So when we keep our focus on God, that takes all the pressure off, and starts to open up new possibilities.

This doesn't mean that thinking about others is bad, because it is important to love and cherish and support others. But even that we want to keep in moderation, and not neglect to keep our focus on God.

Yesterday morning, I consciously chose to do this. I had started out with the kind of laser focus on one individual that anxious thoughts try to impose on us, but that changed as I made the effort to resist that, and to replace those thoughts with seeking God. That's when the little fears that had seemed to creep in like foxes just melted away. And at that point, it really felt like I was running with angels!

Mentally, I heard all sorts of encouraging thoughts for the day. I heard angels in the form of ideas -- ideas for what I could do with my lesson plan for Sunday School the next day, what I could do later that afternoon to inspire others, and what I might include in some readings for church that I had coming up. My point is: this influx of inspiration and good ideas for the day just started coming, and it felt invigorating!

You can prove the very same thing for yourself. Maybe you've been feeling in a bit of a rut lately. Maybe things have just seemed hazy and you are wishing that certain circumstances could change, so that you can finally get back to not feeling so stressed out. The good news is that you don't have to wait. You can start right now by taking off those glasses.

Resist the temptation to think that your circumstances or even your feelings are shaping your outlook and attitude. Let your outlook and attitude shape your circumstances and feelings. As the Bible says, "resist the devil, and he will flee from you." Resist worries, doubts, and mental haziness, and realize that you've got angels all around you, waiting on you. Listen, and be receptive to them! And maybe go for a jog too. 

If you fell down a well and started crying, who would you prefer: someone who jumped down into the well and sat there crying with you, or someone who stayed above it and threw you down a rope? If, at some later point, you willingly jumped back into the well, would it be right to protest that climbing is difficult and it fatigues you? Yet, haven't we seen those very sorts of scenarios played out by others, or perhaps by ourselves?

I do not see a very strong connection between being loving -- expressing real love -- and being emotional. But I do see a similarity between emotions and drugs. Both have an addictive nature to them. Both can act as an alterative on the mind. If you would not knowingly trust your thoughts to mind-altering drugs, why would you likewise trust them to mind-alterting emotions?

Does this mean all emotions are bad, and that we should try to eliminate them, like in the futuristic societies of Equilibrium or The Giver? Hardly. There is a distinction to be made between genuine emotions, and being emotional. The love a parent feels for a newborn child is a genuine, honest emotion. Thinking of oneself as predisposed to "being emotional" is more often akin to vanity. Besides, it's not possible to eliminate anything real.

Difficult circumstances and big changes in ones life can throw a person into a very emotional state. When people find themselves in such a state, a question that often gets asked is: was any of that real? "That" refers to whole portions of ones life which once held so much meaning, but can appear startlingly meaningless after such an event. But when those waves of emotion eventually subside, that is actually a very hopeful state of mind. At that point, one can finally start to see what is really real -- and what value certain experiences really did hold for them.

Every experience we've been through, good or bad, has value. Sometimes this value is less than we might otherwise make it out to be, and unfortunately an overdose of emotions can cloud that. The real value of our experiences -- of our lives -- is not found in the highs and lows of emotionalism, no matter how glamorous they may seem. The real value of our experiences is found in the stillness, in the calm, and in the satisfaction that does not need to argue but rather just is. "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. Love never fails."

In the Bible, Jesus gives counsel on how to pray effectively. Here's how Mark records it:

What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them.

That's a very hopeful statement. A prayer, silent and confident, will be answered by God. But everyone knows that not every prayer they've ever said has been answered in the way they wanted. So what gives? Well, James has an answer for that:

Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts.

So prayers aren't answered when they are meant to be "consumed upon ones lusts." What the heck does that mean? Well, the word "lust" certainly stands out. But lust isn't just limited to things like prostitution and pornography. Lust, as a concept, is really about the "more, more, more" mentality that is never satisfied and never has enough. The word "consumption" also stands out. Though, consumption in and of itself isn't a bad thing. We consume food every day. Jesus even instructs us to pray for "daily bread" -- and not just to look at, but to consume. But it's the pairing of "consumption" and "lust" together that is really the key to this passage. That speaks to the concept of overconsumption. Because while consuming daily bread is normal and natural, consuming 300 pounds of daily bread wouldn't be.

And I believe the same is true when it comes to any kind of consumption -- including information consumption. We want to consume a normal and healthy amount of information. We don't want to hide away from the world with our heads in the sand. But on the other hand, we want that consumption to be natural and not in excess. Being glued to news reports isn't healthy. That isn't consuming in moderation. And there are more productive ways we can use our thinking than simply getting sucked into reactionary media reports.

What is the opposite of overconsumption? Satisfaction. Creation. Giving. Each of those things, as qualities of thought, can be very potent prayers in and of themselves. Rather than allowing the time to pass away glued to a TV screen, why not find ways to give? Why not find ways to love and embrace those around you, and not while looking over your collective shoulders at a TV or computer screen?

The events of the day will unfold whether you are watching the news reports or not, so instead of spending time worrying about them, why not silence the noise and spend that time praying about them? Your individual prayers matter. You are not insignificant. The gifts you have to give to your family, to your neighbors, and even to strangers, are invaluable, and are needed right now. So get praying!

In the Bible, Jesus doesn't have a whole lot to say about adultery. And unfortunately, I've seen people use his relative silence on the matter to justify all sorts of human behavior, saying, "Jesus never said anything about that!" He never spoke about writing computer viruses, either, but that doesn't mean he would condone it. And the few times he did speak about adultery and faithfulness, his remarks were pretty intense.

I teach a Sunday School class each week to a group of high schoolers, and so you'd better believe they are brimming with the kinds of questions that teenagers want to know about. Every once in awhile, they actually build up enough courage to ask me those questions. A couple of weeks ago, in response to one of my student's questions, I shared with the class part of the Sermon on the Mount -- one of the few times Jesus explicitly talks about adultery. It's in Matthew 5:27-28, and reads as follows:

Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery:
But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.

Now let me put that into my own words: "You have heard it said, 'Don't sleep around; that's adultery.' But I tell you that if you so much as think/fantasize about having sex with someone that you're not married to, you already have committed adultery." Ouch! I can imagine the reaction of the men that Jesus was speaking to. It was probably very similar to the reaction of some of my students a couple of weeks ago -- paralyzed with a deer-in-the-headlights expression, that still makes me laugh!

Shock is a common reaction for those who encounter that passage for the first time and really let it sink in, as people realize the great moral distance between themselves and Jesus. But sometimes people don't really progress much beyond that shock, and they start to think it's an impossible standard. And I think that's unfortunate. Is real fidelity an impossible standard? People will look at that passage and think, "well shoot, I've done that; therefore I must be bad." But I don't read that passage as condemnatory. I see it as a call to go higher.

What if, instead of approaching adultery as judgmental, we approached fidelity as progressive? Certainly, anyone overtly committing adultery needs to stop. The very next thing Jesus recommends is to cut off your right hand if it offends you -- meaning stop making excuses for immorality and cut it out of your life. But what about those who are not making any overtly immoral choices, and want to strengthen a relationship, but worry that perhaps they're not good enough? Or maybe they have had the kind of "wandering eye" that Jesus describes here, and although they haven't acted on it, they worry that it's a bad omen, or perhaps that their partner deserves better than them?

The worst forms of evil are often the most subtle, because while it's easy to distinguish an overt lie from the truth, we sometimes mistake a more subtle lie for the truth. It is a subtle lie to think "I'll probably never be good enough; my partner deserves better than me." That is a form of self-condemnation. The Christ does not come to condemn us, but to uplift us. So when we think about fidelity as it applies to our own relationships, it's crucial to approach things from a standpoint that saves and uplifts, rather than one of condemnation.

You can rise out of self-condemnation by focusing less on the negative, and more on the positive. Don't merely practice a lack of adultery; practice active fidelity. This means open communication with ones partner. This means building up a genuine desire to do things together, rather than apart, or with newer or more exciting friends instead. Your partner should be the most exciting person in the world to you. And what if they're not? Well, don't self-condemn, and don't condemn them either. Start by seeing the best in them. And give your best to them. Practice giving.

Alone time is still important. Time with ones friends is still important. But you should never have to dread the time spent with your partner. And what if you do dread it? It might help to start by remembering what it was that made you fall in love with them in the first place. And then look for fresh reasons to do it again. Find ways to give, to encourage, to celebrate. Carry the conversation if you need to. Rather than approaching relationships from a consumer mindset, approach them from a creative mindset. Each day with your partner is a gift, a new opportunity to express your best qualities, and to recognize the best in them. That is progressive fidelity. That is a higher fidelity.

How often do we push off goodness to some future date? How often do we limit the amount of goodness and satisfaction we let ourselves feel right now? I speak from experience, as someone who's done this a lot.

I still remember a time when I was 14 years old. I saw myself as kind of a weird kid. Although I always had many friends, I had very low self esteem. My friends all seemed to have everything together. Even the people I didn't like seemed to have things together. But I thought I was different. I remember sitting in my homeroom period one morning, thinking to myself with such an intense despair characteristic of middle school, "I'll probably never have a girlfriend." I didn't like that verdict. In fact, I hated it. But I was resigned to just accept it as a fact of life -- because after all, I was not as cool or popular or good-looking as most of those other guys, right?

Oh, 14-year old angst. Ha!

As I was sitting there moping in my pit of dark teenage despair, something incredible happened. A girl passed me a note, asking if I wanted to date her. Admittedly, I had never before noticed this girl, prior to receiving that note. I knew absolutely nothing about her. But you'd better believe I replied with a resounding "yes"! (after a little bit of internal deliberation)

Except... I had no idea what to do after that! I had spent so much time and energy convincing myself that I would probably never date, that when all of a sudden I was dating someone, I felt pretty ill-prepared. I didn't know what to do! I still remember a few telephone conversations that were less "conversation" and more "silence while neither one of us knows what to say." So maybe not all matches were made in heaven!

I look back on experiences like that fondly, and have to laugh at myself. I've come to realize that God loves to surprise us. Right in that moment, when I was so sure that I was totally and completely unloveable, God broke right through that dark spell in the form of my first girlfriend. That relationship, like most middle school and high school relationships, didn't last very long. But even as more of those came and went through the years, I started to hear, little by little, more of that constant whisper that is being spoken to all of us:

"You are worthy."
"You are loveable."
"You are so loved."

Listen for it; it's there. Right in those moments when we're so sure it isn't and that life is hopeless... you might just be in for a surprise. God loves to show up in ways that catch us completely off guard. I think it makes Him laugh. It makes me laugh! (In retrospect, anyway.) And it sure makes things more interesting.

Now here's a fun exercise for you: consider all the time you currently spend complaining about all the things you're missing -- all the time you spend worrying that things might never work out. If you spent even half that amount of time, instead, practicing for how things will be when they do work out, what kind of a difference would that make?

I encourage you to do just that. Spend less time worrying, and less thought and speech into planning for the worst. Start getting used to living with joy. Make room for it in your life. Don't act like someone who's a million miles away from their destination; start acting like someone who's already arrived. Practice living with joy rather than fearing it. Because you deserve it.

"For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end."
-Jeremiah

"Divine Love always has met and always will meet every human need."
-Mary Baker Eddy

From the time we're children, we are constantly watching others, mimicking and imitating them, and incorporating the new behaviors we see acted out by others into our own ever-growing repetoire. Children learn entire complex languages this way -- at least in part -- and then continue to develop their abilities through further mimicry and repetition. And there's that old adage, "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

But there comes a point when you really need to stop watching others so much, and start doing things yourself. I say this because I've definitely been guilty of the former! In fact, I think most people have. It's something that we often have to learn to grow out of doing so much. Too much focus on watching others leaves us with less time in the day to really be ourselves; it tends to atrophy creativity. And it often comes hand-in-hand with the belief that we just don't matter. But nothing could be further from the truth!

Examples of "too much watching, not enough doing" are in behaviors like watching too much television, compulsively reading gossip columns, obsessing over politics, fantasizing and daydreaming, and pornography. Activities like that mistake consumption for real reflection. Those activities consume without creating anything meaningful. A good litmus test to tell if an activity is really "bad" is whether it leaves you with a mental or spiritual hangover. Honest activities never do. Honest, productive engagements inspire and uplift.

There was an interesting article in the New York Times about politics last October titled, I'm Right! (For Some Reason). The article examined the effectiveness of political "attack" advertisements, and how readily people will rally behind an attack ad against the politician they don't like. But when the same people were asked to explain policy ideas themselves, thereby putting themselves in the shoes of a politician, suddenly everyone became a lot more moderate. It's a lot easier for people to "attack" politicians when they don't feel any accountability for the process themselves -- when they're just passive observers. But if they are forced to think about how to create policy that will impact themselves, their neighbors, and even their opponents, often they become a lot more open to other ideas.

This highlights the importance of being active do-ers rather than just passive watchers. If too much focus on watching others tends to erode moral sensibility, then the opposite must be true, that a focus on being, living, doing actually strengthens self-esteem and values. In the Bible, Jesus sometimes used "light" as a metaphor for ones individuality, like when he said, "let your light so shine before men" or "no one lights a lamp and puts it under a basket, but on a lamp stand -- then its light shines on everyone in the house."

When we're actively filling our time with productive things we can be doing, that is letting our light shine. Then we become more focused on reflecting God rather than just reflecting others. That is the right kind of reflection, which brings with it a sense of freedom, goodness, and satisfaction.

How have you risen to start doing more than watching? How have you gotten over fears that your unique "light" somehow wasn't good enough? And how have you encouraged others to move away from the wall and start dancing, to take that candle out from under the basket and share it with the whole house? Please share your examples in the comments.

I'm submerged in water -- in some degree -- each and every day. But do I call that act of submerging myself in water every morning a "baptism"? Well of course not. I call that a shower. So what, then, distinguishes a baptism from a bath?

Also, is there more than one kind of baptism? The Bible uses the words baptize, baptized, and baptism a total of 80 times, exclusively in the New Testament. The eponymous John the Baptist practiced what's referred to as the "baptism of repentance" in the gospels, as a way of paving the way for Christ. But he also spoke of different types of baptism -- as did Jesus -- baptizing with the Holy Ghost, with fire, and with Spirit. Which raises another question: does baptism happen more than just once?

When people came to John the Baptist who were insincere, he detected that and told them to leave and come back when they could prove their sincerity through how they were living their lives. So I think this hints at the fact that baptism is more than just a shower; it's related to how you live your life. And while the baptism of repentance is a very important one, I actually want to table that one from discussion today and focus more on what's called the "baptism of the Holy Ghost."

In an article titled "Pond and Purpose," the Rev. Mary Baker Eddy talks about three different types of baptism and the different states of mind that they correspond to. Here's a little bit of what she has to say.

"The baptism of the Holy Ghost is the spirit of Truth cleansing from all sin; giving ... new motives, new purposes, new affections, all pointing upward. This mental condition settles into strength, freedom, deep-toned faith in God; and a marked loss of faith in evil... It develops individual capacity, increases the intellectual activities, and so quickens moral sensibility...

By purifying human thought, this state of mind permeates with increased harmony all the minutiae of human affairs. It brings with it wonderful foresight, wisdom, and power; it unselfs ... purpose, gives steadiness to resolve, and success to endeavor."

Fresh motives, deep-toned faith in God, success in endeavor... sign me up! I think this is really key -- discussing the states of mind a person experiences. Because regardless of whether you believe that water has to be blessed by a priest, or if you have to recite a specific set of words, or whatever your specific belief, wouldn't you agree that your state of mind and how you subsequently live you life is central?

Have you ever had a moment where you felt so inspired, so energized, like you had a million different things you wanted to do and you couldn't wait to get started? Perhaps someone who's just landed a dream job might be feeling that way, like they can't wait to get to work. Or perhaps someone who's just learned something brand new in school that they really enjoy and can't wait to show off. All these states of mind, where a person is feeling like they've unlocked whatever it is they were made to do -- whatever it is God has called them to do -- corresponds to the "baptism of the Holy Ghost," in some degree.

The simple fact is that water alone does little to inspire a person. It is what's behind it all -- the motives, ambitions, desires, and so on -- that really matters. In the 8th chapter of Acts, there's a story about a rich eunuch who's traveling on a caravan to Jerusalem. Along the way, he encounters Philip, a young Christian disciple, who shows him something he's never seen before. Immediately after being taught, the eunuch desperately asks to be baptized -- he wants to get things started as soon as possible! That encounter ends with the eunuch going on his way, "rejoicing." Then in the 10th chapter of Acts, the apostle Peter -- for the very first time -- welcomes outsiders (non-Jews) into his church and baptizes them. They were "astonished" and overjoyed, and celebrated with him for more than a week straight.

That astonishment, that rejoicing, that state of mind is something that we can cultivate each and every day. That's the state of mind that sees freedom, sees possibility, sees opportunity. That's the state of mind that knows you were made with a purpose and can't wait to dive into really living that purpose. And daily cultivation of that mentality is so much more important than just taking a shower. (Though, please do remember to shower!) Seen in this light, we can also look for ways that we can baptize others, daily. By that I mean we can inspire people, help them unlock their own talents and abilities, and find their own passion in life.

So I ask again: have you been baptized today?

As I mentioned in my first post in this series, I have observed "intense fear" expressed in the words I read in friends' Facebook posts, relating to politics. There's fear that a politician has a secret, evil agenda which surely means the end for America and all we hold dear. There's fear that a whole nation (or, conveniently, those in it who don't agree with you) have been "brainwashed" or hypnotized into apathy and subjection when they should be protesting. And ultimately, there's the fear that you are powerless to do anything.

Fear never has been and never will be a very productive activity. Nor is any reaction that is ultimately rooted in fear. However, it's important to understand just how challenging it can be for any of us to face our fears and overcome them. An unqualified, "Fear Not!" is often easier said than done.

I still remember when I was about 10 years old, my family and I went to Six Flags Great America. For those of you unfamiliar, Six Flags is an immensely popular theme park, filled with roller coasters, carnival rides, and obnoxiously expensive trinkets. That year was the first year I ever rode a roller coaster. I had been to Six Flags prior, but up until that point I had only ventured as far as "Bugs Bunny Land," the subset of the park specifically geared toward very young children. This was the year I was finally too tall for that section of park, and so now it was time to start thinking about roller coasters.

Except I didn't want to.

Roller coasters were SCARY. It seems so absurd to me now, and in fact I don't even remember the feelings of fear -- I only remember the details that I was very frightened of them at the time. So in a very clever ploy, my uncle made me a deal. He said that if I would go with them on the "Whizzer," which was the smallest and most tame coaster in the park, he would give me a dollar. After a bit of a struggle, I eventually conceded. The ride up that first hill seemed very frightening, but once we got going, I had a blast. And I wanted to ride it again! Hoping he could inspire a little more confidence, he then offered me $2 if I would ride on the "American Eagle" -- a wooden coaster that was definitely bigger than the Whizzer. He could not, however, get me to do that. Not even for $2.

Years later, I've now been on every single coaster in the park more times than I can count, and sometimes backwards. I don't hang onto anything any more; I let my arms dangle freely in the air. I can't get enough of the fast-paced coasters. The idea that I could ever be afraid of those seems so ridiculous. But try telling that to my 10 year old self!

Human beings will always be afraid of something new. It's very much a "human" condition. They will fight tooth and nail to resist thinking about new ideas, or even new presentations of old ideas. This isn't to say that all new ideas are good. But the point I stress is that fear is a phenomenon that every person has to face down in one form or another. So while someone else is dealing with fear (or even when fear is dealing with them), the choice we have to make is how we treat each other along the way. Questions to ask yourself include: how do I love someone that I disagree with, in a meaningful way? How can I bring grace into an argument?

Really removing fear usually requires more of a personal touch, a consistent, patient guiding that can take a lot of time and effort. Platitudes and arguments can never seem to do the trick. It requires the gentle nudging of an aunt or uncle, encouraging you to try new things, but also not chastising you when you're not ready. So in our political discussions with each other, even when feelings seem to run high, remember that ultimately we are one family. And even if that family tends to be rather dysfunctional at times, you are never helpless when it comes to your immediate environment.

Who knows whether you are come to the kingdom for such a time as this?

This was, effectively, a declaration that the President has been appointed by God to fix all of the problems the United States is facing (and perhaps more). On the other hand, I've also seen plenty of posts circulating, ever since December, that have drawn a direct comparison between the President and Adolph Hitler, in fulfillment of Godwin's law.

I disagree with both positions. First of all, to compare any U.S. President to Adolph Hitler is not only outlandish, but is just plain juvenile. Obama hasn't committed genocide, nor has Bush, nor has Clinton, and so on. That kind of comparison is immature, reactionary, and has no place in any educated discussion. That is sheer depravity, the lowest state of mortal thought. But on the other hand, to treat the President, or another politician, as some kind of holy Messiah sent from God to finally fix all of humanity's woes isn't really much better. There was only one promised Messiah, and he's already left his mark.

I prefer a more sober approach when evaluating politicans, one that doesn't so easily get sucked up into the pomp and circumstance of the moment, nor get dragged down into the hypnotic fears and conspiracy theories. Is the President a promised Messiah? No. Is the President Adolph Hitler? No. The President is simply a man -- an inherently good man -- who is trying to do his best, to the best of his ability. And while I'll probably never agree with every policy that a given president makes, I know that he (and other presidents) still needs my support, my love, and my prayers. He needs yours, too. I try to approach thinking about politicans from the perspective that asks, "what would I do if I were in that position?" This is the Golden Rule.

Jesus gave us a helpful hint in how to view politicians in their correct light, when he spoke with Pontius Pilate just before the crucifixion. Pilate, a high-ranking official in the Roman empire -- who had undoubtedly worked long and hard to earn his position -- asked Jesus, "don't you realize that I have the power to crucify you, or to let you go?" Jesus responed, "you would have no power at all, except it were given to you from God."

This shows Jesus' acknowledgement that Pilate was in his position because God had put him there. But he places no emphasis, whatsoever, on Pilate himself having any power to help or to harm. Instead, he sees things from the perspective that God's government is perpetually intact. I don't believe in a God who creates a universe that keeps falling out of alignment and subsequently has to find the right politician to fix it. That is a poor estimate of Omniscience. I believe each and every one of us, politicians included, are always right where we need to be in this divine adventure called life. We are each learning more about the realities of life, learning to love our neighbors better, and being who we were made to be more fearlessly, each and every day. I believe that I found the career I'm in by the grace of God, and so I similarly believe the President (as well as former presidents) have been led into their positions because God has ordained them. This does not put them on a pedestal, but instead recongizes that we each have a God-given purpose and place in life, no more or less needed than another's.

To view any person as having a special power or authority exclusive to only them, idolizes them as a god. But to fear and condemn them, hanging onto every word they say, idolizes them as a demon. Both perspectives are ultimately dissatisfying. So I say let's take people off these pedestals, and look less to people but more to ideas. Ideas don't belong to a political party. And most importantly of all, let's continually watch that we are practicing the Golden Rule in our lives and in our thoughts about others. Would you want hoards of people comparing you to Hilter because of a policy suggestion? Or would you want hoards of people displaying captioned pictures of you to show off how righteous and perfect and better than others you are? The Golden Rule is always sound advice.

Frankly, a lot of the issues themselves don't really concern me. Or at least, they don't concern me nearly as much as the thoughts and behaviors of my friends who are expressing them. I already know where I stand on many political issues, and honestly... no Facebook status message (even one in ALL CAPITAL LETTERS!) is likely ever going to change another's viewpoint, when that viewpoint is already shaped by experience. But the political issues we so vehemently debate rarely touch on the real issues that people care about, deep in their hearts. Politics are often used as a filter, or a mask, for the underlying fears and frustrations that we face. So even after someone debates the popular issues until they're blue in the face, they're still left with the same lingering concerns about life and the future. Those concerns are what I try to discern, and what really matter.

Through this filter of politics, I have observed the following three qualities seep through most frequently, each of which I want to address separately:

1. Self-righteousness
2. Idol worship
3. Intense fear

I'm only going to touch on the first one in today's blog post, namely "self-righteousness." What's the first thing you think of when you hear "self-righteousness"? Do you think of someone else, someone who has acted in a self-righteous or judgmental way toward you, or others? Maybe it's not even a specific person, but a hazy archetype that you've conceived in your head? Well, I've found it's been more helpful to check my own behaviors first, before condemning the behaviors of others. This isn't a new idea either. Here's a quote from Jesus:

How can you say to your brother, "Let me take the speck out of your eye," when there is a log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye.

When I speak of "self-righteousness," I urge you to first examine yourself and no one else. This is what Jesus taught and practiced. Are you a self-righteous person? "No." Well if you say "no," do you really believe anyone else would respond to that question saying, "oh yes, that's me"? Few people ever truly think of themselves as being self-righteous. Yet we observe the phenomena anyway. So rather than focusing on correcting everyone else, start by watching for it in your own thinking.

If someone else has expressed a dissenting opinion, ask yourself: have I honestly been willing to listen to them? Or have I judged them to be a "hater," or "ignorant", or any other dismissive adjective? People sometimes believe that our politics will ultimately determine our legacy. They think that if we're just on the "right side" of things, we'll be remembered as loving and righteous. No, no, no! Be loving right now. How you treat others -- especially those who disagree with you -- says a lot more for how you'll be remembered. That doesn't mean you have to acquiesce to an opinion you don't agree with. But just because you don't agree with someone doesn't mean you can't have a civil conversation with them. And it certainly doesn't mean you can't still love them!

Jesus taught that to mistreat or malign the "least" of people was to mistreat and malign himself. But when he spoke of the "least of them," he spoke in relative terms. In other words, you don't get to pick who the "least of them" are in advance. The "least" are whoever comes into your experience, not only the predetermined social groups that you already love to defend. Ask yourself: am I equally willing to see, and defend, the divinity within those that I disagree with?

And you know, you're going to fail at this. I've failed at it before, and I'm sure I'll fail at it again. But that is where grace comes in, to rescue us. People have an innate desire to love and to forgive; it is hard-wired in the very fabric of our being. So what if you were dismissed or alienated in a political discussion? Be willing to forgive and forget, however many times it takes. What if you were the one who made someone else feel alienated or unwelcome, and you're just now realizing it? Well hopefully you can actually see that (which is a huge step!), and then trust God to present an opportunity for reconciliation, an opportunity for grace. When you see something in yourself that is in error, acknowledge it as wrong, learn from it so that you don't do it again, and then forgive yourself and move on.

This may make for some rather messy discussions. But I know that God doesn't care about what political party you voted for, or whether two people have differing opinions on taxes and gun control. He cares about what's in your heart, and how we treat others along the way. To close, here is an excerpt from The Master's Men by William Barclay, without further comment:

The constitution of the twelve [apostles] presents us with a situation which is nothing less than a miracle in personal relationships. Within that society there was Matthew the tax collector and Simon the Zealot -- Matthew who had accepted the political situation, and who was profitably engaged in help to administer it, and Simon who would have assassinated any Roman whom he could reach and would have plunged a dagger into any Jew who dared to cooperate with the Romans.

The plain truth is that, if Simon had met Matthew under any other circumstances, he would have murdered him. [...] Here is one of the greatest of all examples of personal enmity destroyed by common love of Christ.

As I was pulling out the noodles, my roommate arrived home, so I asked if he'd like some spaghetti too. He happily agreed. I got the water boiling, he went upstairs, and I started searching the kitchen for that stray jar of spaghetti sauce. I looked and looked. I opened every single cupboard, every single cabinet, every single drawer. I stood on chairs to get better vantage points. I double checked. I triple checked. I did find a tiny, 8 oz. can of store-brand tomato sauce, but I was looking for the 45 oz. jar of spaghetti sauce, loaded full of meat and vegetables. I just knew I had seen it!

"Wait!" I stopped myself. I knew how to handle this; I could pray. God was there. I stopped frantically looking around, sat down, and started to pray. "Father, I can't find this spaghetti sauce for the life of me. I promised my roommate I would make him spaghetti but there isn't enough here for the both of us. Please help!" I declared this was a right, honest activity, so God would help me. A lot of familiar Bible stories came to mind, like the one about the woman who poured out jars of oil and they miraculously just kept pouring, and the one about how Jesus fed thousands of people with only a handful of bread and fish. I had no confidence whatsoever that anything quite so miraculous could happen to me, but I was hopeful that I would at least hear some intuition that would tell me to look in a spot I hadn't already checked.

The trouble was, as far as I knew, there weren't any spots left. I had already "left no stone unturned." So I wanted divine assistance. And in my heart, it was more than just about finding a jar of spaghetti sauce. What I was really yearning for was to feel closer to God, because frankly He felt leagues away. To me, that jar of spaghetti sauce represented an acknowledgment that I wasn't trudging through life alone, that I hadn't been forsaken, and that I wasn't stuck. I didn't want to come up with any ideas of my own; I wanted it to be unmistakeably coming from God. But I didn't hear any answers. And then the water boiled over.

I went back to my own flustered reasoning. "I could have sworn I had another jar of spaghetti sauce!" "Did my roommate use it up?" "Did I throw it out?" I realized that I could try to make do with the 8 oz. jar of tomato sauce, but it probably still wouldn't be enough. Plus, that didn't feel like a "divine solution" to me, that felt like a makeshift, last-ditch effort I had come up with on my own to get this to work. But it was all that I had and the clock was ticking. I scraped out the first jar of spaghetti sauce using a spatula. Then I opened up the tiny jar of tomato sauce and added it to the mix. It surprised me. 8 ounces was a lot more than I had thought! As I mixed it together, I realized it was going to be just the right amount after all.

Dinner was lovely, albeit quick. But it wasn't until after dinner when it finally hit me: my prayer had already been answered before I ever sat down and folded my hands. I had just been refusing to accept that answer. I never found that extra jar of spaghetti sauce like I had hoped, but all of my needs were met and I was able to keep the promise I had made to my roommate. It didn't seem as great and wonderful as my original plan, but it was still wholesome. I realized that my error had been my attempt to be the author of this story, rather than a character in God's story. Characters don't get to write the ending of the story. They just have to humbly accept what the author has already written.

I pray a lot. I know plenty about Scripture and plenty about prayer. But tonight's experience made me ask myself, "Am I really grateful for all the good I have already received?" It's not the first time I've heard that wake-up call. When I first noticed that "tiny" jar of plain, store-brand tomato sauce, I dismissed it with scorn. And that is actually a really useful metaphor, I think. Didn't the early Jews do exactly the same thing to Jesus? They were searching and searching and searching for the promised Messiah. They knew plenty about Scripture and plenty about prayer, too. They had been raised on the stories of a mighty warrior king riding in to finally defeat the Roman empire and bring them into a prosperous kingdom of glory and abundance. In a sense, they were waiting for that 45 oz. jar of chunky, meaty spaghetti sauce. So when the son of a carpenter showed up, saddled on a donkey, they were less than impressed. That was just like the pathetic 8 oz. can of tomato sauce. How could that ever be enough?

I'm taking this experience tonight as a helpful reminder that sometimes the answer we're looking for is already right in front of our faces, but it's our own stubbornness that prevents us from seeing that. I've already had moments of desperation where I've cried out to God in prayer, looking for some sort of acknowledgment, and have gotten it in pretty remarkable ways. I'll have to save some of those stories, perhaps, for another day. Tonight I didn't get quite the same treatment, but I did get exactly what I needed to hear: a reminder that everything I need is already at hand, and it will be enough. It may not seem all that glamorous, but at the end of the day, it is nourishing and wholesome. I was left with two questions, so I leave you, dear reader, with the same two questions. Are we honestly grateful for everything we already we have on hand? And are we recognizing the solutions that may already be staring us in the face, or are we being stubborn?

As I became more frustrated with the situation, I suddenly realized what was going on. I had been praying all along, without even realizing it! Yes, praying. My "prayer" probably went something like this: "I'm in a rush and I deserve a parking spot; I wish a parking spot would open up right now!!!"

Why do I call that a "prayer"? Because of John 11:42. Right before Jesus performs a miracle, he addresses God, saying, "I know You always hear me. But I have said this for the people standing here, so they may believe..." That reassures me that God is always listening, to every word, every thought, every tear, every moment of frustration, every desire in our heart... everything you or I have ever thought of or felt, whether you believe in God or not. He's that close! (I should qualify that statement by saying He hears every real thought, but that's another discussion entirely.)

So yes, the frustration that was brimming silently was, effectively, my "prayer" in that moment. I never said it was a very good prayer! In fact, most of the other drivers in that parking lot were probably also praying a variation on the same thing. But the prayer which says "I deserve a parking spot!" also inadvertently says "I deserve a parking spot more than anybody else here." And that's rather unrighteous and selfish, wouldn't you agree? That's not so much about honoring God, as it's about honoring me, me, me.

So I realized that I needed to change my prayer. I needed to put God into the equation. I decided, "okay God, I know You are patient, so I'm going to focus on being patient, too." Then I stopped my car - stopped frantically driving around in search of a spot - and just waited. No one was immediately behind me. I let go of the stress and frustration I had been feeling, and just focused on being patient. Within 30 seconds, a car right in front of me that I hadn't noticed pulled out, opening up a spot for me.

We have a choice, when confronted with stressful situations, whether we want to look at things like they're a human competition, or whether we want to take a moment to consciously pray. In this moment, my prayer went from being an unconscious, selfish prayer to a conscious prayer that only wanted to be more Christlike, to some degree. This kind of conscious choice to act more Christlike, moment by moment, is more important than merely getting what we want. And rather than feeling like we are burdened with having to do everything ourselves, having to win a human competition, it becomes easier to recognize how God is able to, and does, answer our prayers. Try it!

What does an out of balance cross look like? On the one hand, someone who has neglected the horizontal aspect will probably look like a bit of a recluse, whether they acknowledge that or not. They might cultivate two different identities: the face they can put on around church friends, and the face they can put on around everyone else. I feel like this has described me on more than one occassion! So I don't mean to point fingers by writing this, but I do mean to stimulate a healthy sense of self-examination.

Jesus did not cultivate his own deeper sense of spirituality and oneness with the Father only to hide it behind closed doors and keep it to himself. Nor did St. Paul wait until he had all of his ducks lined up in a row before he started boldly preaching the gospel and healing others. Christianity exists to be a positive influence in the world, to make waves in an ocean of suffering and selfishness. Mary Baker Eddy, the founder of my church, once wrote, "sea captains on shore are of no use." Too much focus on the transcendental without the balance of the human side of things can breed self-righteousness and hypocrisy, or it can just be a mask to hide our own fears of actually living the things we like to talk about.

Stepping out of ones comfort zone is never easy. Jesus said, "Whenever a woman is in labor she has pain, because her hour has come; but when she gives birth to the child, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy that a child has been born into the world." The newborn child that he speaks of there is a great metaphor for your own life purpose. The downward tendencies of the world would try to miscarry your life purpose. But we each have to rouse ourselves from the sleepy or frightened tendencies to hide away from the world. We need to get out there and shine. Just this morning a friend asked me, "are you being an influence in the world, or are you letting the world influence you?" This is a question we should all be asking ourselves every day. And in order to be an influence for others, you actually have to talk to them.

On the flip side, the cross might also be out of balance if someone has neglected the vertical. That kind of individual goes with the flow and is more interested in "keeping the peace" than making waves that might offend somebody (unless those waves try to justify a pet sin). Jesus gave two great commandments: to love God supremely, and to love others as we love ourselves. But the order of those two commandments matters! We need to put God first, before people. When we're more interested in pleasing others (or ourselves) than we are pleasing God, this also diminishes our own life purpose - or confuses it. That could include idolizing someone as a source of happiness, like a lover for instance. Or it could mean idolizing someone as a source of unhappiness, like a hated politician.

A neglect of the "divinity" aspect of the cross also tends to shut down our natural, childlike willingness to be corrected. It shuts off healthy self-examination and stifles our spiritual progress, defending this stagnation in the name of "compassion." Mary Baker Eddy also wrote, "One thing all must do - watch, and if anything looks like leaning away from God, drop it instantly." How willing are we to let go, instantly, of anything that would hinder our own progress, whether that's a questionable relationship, or another drink, or even long-cherished patterns of thinking? I realize that's a tall order. But at the end of the day, are those things really drawing us closer to God? Do they really leave us feeling more fulfilled?

Here are some questions to consider together as we enter this new year and try to find a more balanced sense of the cross:

• Do I have two identities, or one? Do I hide one of them from society?
• Am I afraid of bringing God into the conversation? Why?
• When's the last time I influenced someone in a conversation in a meaningful way?
• What is my life purpose? Does that purpose serve God more than it serves me?
• Who or what am I making gods out of? Who am I making devils out of?
• How much time do I honestly spend in prayer each day? Are my prayers effective?
• Have I actually read the Bible? Do I actually know what it is I claim to believe in?

I challenge you to take each of these questions as they apply to yourself, not as a tool for correcting others. It's not our province to work out someone else's salvation, only our own.

Jesus instructed his followers that, "when you pray, enter into your closet and lock your door, and pray to your Father who is in secret." That "closet" he spoke of signifies a quiet sanctuary away from the noise and distractions of the world. It signifies cultivating an active sense of peace, communing with the Father. That quiet time doesn't necessarily have to take place at home, alone, at a prescribed and regimented time of day, necessarily. It can happen right in the middle of a loud situation - and I'll give an example of that in a moment. But even though it can take place amid the fast-paced hustle and bustle of the world, the hard truth is that it probably won't take place there unless you first take a lot of time out of your scheulde at home, alone, to commune with God, in preparation.

Christianity is simple, but it is not superficial. I confess that I struggle with this self-discipline that I'm writing about. But I can see what great value there is in disciplining myself to reserve time out of my day to sit quietly and pray. There is Biblical authority behind it. St. Paul taught to "pray without ceasing." St. Peter was miraculously released from prison after his church members had "prayed without ceasing" on his behalf. And there are many instances where Jesus retreated from the crowds into the wilderness, or to a mountaintop (he liked mountains), to be alone and to pray. For all the time that Jesus spent among the people, he also spent remarkable amounts of time alone, silently communing with God.

But as promised, here's an example of a person entering that "prayer closet" right in the midst of a screamingly loud situation. The following is an excerpt from an article in the Christian Science Sentinel.

As I was walking to my bus stop, I heard shouting break through the pre-dawn stillness. I then saw a fellow commuter yelling at the bus driver at the top of his lungs. This bus had not showed up on time the day before, and its absence had evidently caused this man to be late for his job. Both he and I boarded the bus, where he continued loudly to berate the driver and the entire bus system, much to the shock of the other passengers. My first response was compassion for the driver, who had not even been on duty the day before. Then I felt compassion for the commuter, who I happened to know was a professional engineer and was facing family stresses at home.

In reaching out to God for inspiration that would reveal His peace for everyone, I was led to say a few calming words to the commuter. The next few moments were filled with a profound silence. The man's face relaxed, he leaned back into his seat, and the tension on the bus disappeared. Some minutes later, I heard this man quietly utter the same words I had said. He left the bus offering a polite comment to the driver, who in turn replied pleasantly.

Stories like that inspire me. I'm not sure I would have handled the situation as well as he did! But the first question that always comes to mind when I read stories like that is: how did he do that? And how can I do that? I don't believe it's merely a matter of finding the magic words to say; it's something deeper than that. What that article doesn't touch on is all the hours of daily mental preparation, daily prayer, that came before this story ever happened. That part of the story is seldom included by the time articles go to print, but that part of the story is what really counts.

I work in I.T. And as a result, I get to field a lot of I.T.-related questions, both on and off the job. Oftentimes I'm faced with familiar problems, variations on problems I've dealt with before, and so when I'm asked those kind of questions, I already know exactly how to respond. I can speak with authority in those situations. Other times, I am presented with problems I've never seen or thought of before, so I search Google for answers - and pretty reliably, I find them! As I'm searching, I can kind of feign a sense of authority in my voice, which transforms into a true sense of authority when I do find the solution. But once in awhile, I encounter a problem with no apparent solution in sight. When that happens, I have to hunker down and use my knowledge and deductive skills to try and find the answer myself. And any feigned sense of authority has to drop away to the honest admission, "I don't know, but I'm going to try to figure it out."

When Jesus spoke to disease, he spoke with authority. When his disciples similarly spoke (while they were still learning), they often were a bit more reserved, as if they were doing Google searches for the answers and hoping for the best. Jesus expected that they would eventually do the same works he did, and apprenticed them by having them attempt the same kinds of works he was doing. But early on, they sometimes fell flat. The best example of this is from the ninth chapter of Mark, when Jesus healed the epileptic boy. The father of this epileptic child had asked the disciples if they would heal his son, and they tried! But despite their best efforts, they failed. So then this desperate father turned to Jesus, hoping that Jesus would have the answer, which of course he did. Afterwards the disciples asked Jesus why they weren't able to do it, and Jesus explained the situation to them, speaking as though he knew exactly what the problem was that the disciples weren't yet able to perceive. Jesus' knowledge of what was really going on beneath the surface allowed him to cut through the disease and get right down to healing the young boy, while the disciples were simply doing their best to Google for answers, in a sense, and this was a case where there weren't any easy answers to be found.

People crave real solutions. When the father of the epileptic boy saw that the disciples weren't able to answer his cry for help, he went to their boss, who immediately spoke to him with authority. People crave that kind of authority, which is able to command the situation rather than scrambling for answers without any certainty of success. Jesus promised that his followers would be able to do all the things he could do, and indeed handle other situations that he hadn't faced, when he said, "greater works than these shall [you] do; because I go unto my Father." We also need to "go unto our Father" if we want expect to follow in his footsteps, meaning we need to make room for God in our lives. That means setting aside chunks of time during the day for silent prayer, going to church regularly, and setting aside time (outside of prayer time!) to study the Scriptures. Quiet and consistent preparation is key to being able to handle the challenges that come up in our daily lives - both expected and unexpected. In today's caffeinated, multi-tasking, constantly distracted world, it can be difficult to maintain the discipline to consistently make God a priority. Belive me, I know!

That is the vertical dimension of the cross, and it is requisite for Christian discipleship. Without that dimension, there is no authority behind what we say. We end up speaking either in clichéd platitudes, or in vague and empty promises. It is the quiet time spent alone with God where we really learn how to speak with authority, and how to bring an active sense of peace to situations. Without that genuine committment, we end up throwing darts at a board, smattering people with our uninformed best efforts, while we Google for answers. To truly follow Christ, we need to "leave all for Christ." And that starts gradually, by "leaving some for Christ" - giving at least part of our day to honest prayer.

In this post I want to focus specifically on the horizontal dimension of staying connected with others. Why is it important for us to connect with others? Others can be discouraging and sometimes outright mean. And often there seem to be invisible social barriers that prevent us from truly fitting in with certain social groups. No matter how we try, it seems like there just isn't room for us. So why try at all? Why not just hide away and cultivate a sense of peace for ourselves?

These are questions I've had on my mind for awhile. I confess that, as an introverted person by nature, it's quite easy to just want to squirrel away and insulate myself from the world. But I've been learning, sometimes slowly, of the necessity of family, of community, and of fellowship and communion with others. Jesus said, "For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." He never promised that the spirit of Christ would be witnessed alone in a vacuum. The operative words there are "two" and "three," signifying community.

Just last night, upon arriving home from work, I had a lot I wanted to get done. I know how to keep myself busy; I make checklists of tasks that I need to accomplish. But then I remembered a Christmas hymn sing taking place downtown, at another church I don't belong to, but that I was invited to attend. This presented a dilemma, because taking the time to drive all the way downtown would mean I wouldn't be getting my individual task list done that night. So I had a mini-debate in my mind whether I should go.

"I could get so much accomplished if I stayed home."
"I can accomplish those same things this weekend."
"Will I really accomplish those things this weekend?"
"Friendship is important."

I went back and forth for a little while. But then I started to analyze how much my "Marthan" task list was really just an excuse to avoid being social. And I realized, it was! And as I was already thinking about this topic of the cross, I eventually acknowledged how important it was that I go, even if that meant none of my task list would be accomplished last night.

I'm sure glad I did go. The hymn sing was gorgeous. I am not a very strong singer myself, but just being in the presence of so many voices coming together in unison has a power behind it. There were many in that room that I would have disagreements with, if I really got down to nitty gritty details of theology. But none of that matters when you come together to worship and praise. Human arguments disappear, at least temporarily, into the peace and goosebump-inducing calm of singing together in a church.

Earlier this summer I was struck by a comment made to a friend of mine. She is someone who is a very hard-working and committed person by nature, someone who is a "giver." She is so often giving to others, and especially to her church, that I worry that sometimes things have felt out of balance for her, like she hasn't been able to receive as much as she's given out. The comment that I overheard made to her, that so struck me was this: "You can let church be a support for you, you know." This resonates with me because so many people often take the approach that it is their own personal responsibility to support their family, their church, and the whole world. And when they inevitably fall short of being able to do that, people sometimes retreat into fear and solitude.

I came across a beautiful article awhile ago, titled Lessons on the dance floor, where this exact sort of thing happened to a young man while at a holiday camp. He felt many compounded fears of rejection and experienced a great deal of discouragement. But even after he retreated, he heard a "still, small voice" calling him back. Perhaps the most beautiful part of the piece is the message this young man heard as an answer to his prayer, a gentle nudging from God telling him, "It's time to dance. Go, go..."

There is much discord in this world that tries to separate us and have us to throw up our hands in defeat. The sting of discouragement impels us to hide away in a hole. And when we're really honest, we realize that sometimes we ourselves have been guilty of isolating or even ostracizing others. But love does not thrive in a vacuum, and I agree that the horizontal dimension of the cross must be deliberate. We need to stay connected with each other if we want to see the spirit of Christ manifest. That sometimes involves overcoming our own fears and excuses to join in the hymn sing or on the dance floor. Other times, that involves being patient and understanding with others lest we become guilty of isolating them. I've found it helpful to remember, particularly when a person seems fixated on something we may not agree with, Jesus' admonition that "he that is not against us is on our part."

At the end of the day, you matter, and others matter too. God loved you enough to create you, and he continues to love you enough to sustain you. And what's true for you is true for others as well. This line, from a poem written by Mary Baker Eddy, sums it up well, I think:

Love wipes your tears all away,
And will lift the shade of gloom,
And for you make radiant room
Midst the glories of one endless day.

• Praying for Chardon High School
  A perspective on the school shooting in Chardon, Ohio
   
• There was a better way
  Praying through roadblocks while planning a CSO lecture
   
• Don't buy into the "bad boy syndrome"
  A focus on ones own purity is more attractive than stereotypes
   
• Man up to real manhood
  Real manhood is a quality that cannot become obsolete or undervalued
   
• Letting Go (en Español) (en Français)
  A perspective after a breakup
   
• Forgiveness brings healing
  Here the title is fairly self-explanatory
   
• God's gentle love...soaked me in orange juice!
  A perspective on obsessive/ruminating thought
   
• Let the Spirit flow
  Handling criticism in church from within
   
• Digging deeper
  A look at different Bible translations
   
• Learning to teach
  A perspective on teaching Sunday School
   

Simply, there is no answer to the question, "Why?", and so I will not attempt to talk about the "why" behind this. But I would like to write today about what we can do. These sorts of situations leave people feeling helpless, powerless, and afraid. I do not believe that more fear is the antidote needed in our lives. So rather than echoing the fears that are justifiably being cried across the country, I want to share a few ideas that I find helpful, beginning with an incident where a "school shooting" in New Hampshire was successfully averted.

I am a member of the First Church of Christ, Scientist. I believe in one God, and Jesus as the promised Messiah. My church was founded in the late 1800s by a woman, Mary Baker Eddy, who herself was a devout follower of Christ Jesus. The following is an excerpt from a biography titled The Life of Mary Baker Eddy by Sibyl Wilbur, first published in 1907, and describes an incident when she was little more than 20 years old, the same age as the man responsible for the tragedy yesterday.

While Mary was attending the academy an incident occurred which was long related by old residents of Tilton[, New Hampshire]. A lunatic, escaped from the asylum at Concord, invaded the school yard, brandishing a club and terrifying the students who ran shrieking into the house. Mary Baker advanced toward him, and the pupils, peering through the windows, saw him wield the club above her head. Their blood tingled with horror for they expected her to be struck down before their eyes. Not so. She walked straight up to the man and took his disengaged hand. At her request he walked with her to the gate and so, docilely, away. On the following Sunday he reappeared and quietly entered the church. He walked to the Baker pew and stood beside Mary during the hymn singing. Afterwards he allowed himself to be taken in charge without resistance.

This story, from the 1840s, had a very different ending than the one we read about yesterday. They both involved young men with mental health challenges carrying weapons into a school full of many young children. But this story from the 1840s ended with the man voluntarily turning himself before any harm was done. I think everyone can agree that that is the best resolution to these kind of stories. The reason I believe that story had such a powerful turnaround to it was not because of any special person involved, but because of the power of God's love, and a fearless obedience to the teachings of Christ Jesus. More on that in a moment. Next, I also want to share a short, one-minute video clip. This scene took place in a courtroom in 2003.

This scene shows part of the trial of Gary Ridgway, known as the "Green River Killer," a serial killer who confessed to killing 71 young women over the course of two decades. This clip shows Mr. Rule, the father of one of the young victims, speaking to Mr. Ridgway with, remarkably, nothing but unconditional forgiveness, despite the fact that the man he is forgiving murdered his own daughter. The full video goes onto say that, while Mr. Ridgway had seemed emotionless and unaffected by everything else that happened in the trial, especially of his rightful condemnation by the victims' families, he was clearly and visibly affected by this man's miraculous sense of forgiveness. Indeed, shortly after hearing these words of forgiveness, Mr. Ridgway - for the first time - confessed to the murders, tearfully. The thing that most struck me in Mr. Rule's comments was when he said "what God says to do is to forgive." Again, here is another instance of a tranformation made possible by fearless obedience to Christ's commands. Lastly, I am also reminded of a famous quotation from the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., where he said this:

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

There are many discussions that are taking place and will continue to take place about the recent school shooting - about how to prevent this kind of thing in the future. People will talk about gun control laws, metal detectors in schools, mental health warning signs, and so on. Whatever solutions we come to, I think the most important question, a question that searches deeper than any metal detector ever could, is what motivates our actions? Are we motivated by fear? By a desire to live in a bubble? Or by ostracizing all those who seem scary? Or rather, can we be motivated by the same kind of unconditional love that we see in these examples? These examples prove the power of that kind of fearless love.

I do not believe that the dark shadows of fear, hatred, and ostracization can do very much to calm or comfort people - least of all those already "at risk" with mental health challenges. But the unconditional, agape love that Christ taught and demonstrated does transform lives and characters. That kind of love motivates people to stop short of committing heinous acts in the first place, and motivates people to take responsibility for their own actions. This is the kind of brotherly love that forgives in the face of the worst hardship and pain, the kind of sisterly love that offers to hold someone's hand and makes a stand for the best in them even when they seem most scary or out of place. This is the kind of Love that recognizes the unity of all mankind, as Malachi puts it: "Have we not all one father? hath not one God created us?" Jesus himself is perhaps the greatest example of this kind of Love and forgiveness, as he was someone wholly innocent who did not hesitate to forgive those attacking him right in the midst of the pain. That forgiveness transformed the world.

As for the innocent children lost, I refuse to believe that God has, even for an instant, stopped cherishing them, nurturing them, protecting them, and holding them dear, as the "apple of His eye, under the shadow of His wings." I believe that the light of those dear children's lives continues to shine brightly in the Kingdom, and that nothing can ever extinguish that light. As St. Paul puts it, "I have become absolutely convinced that neither death nor life, neither messenger of Heaven nor monarch of earth, neither what happens today nor what may happen tomorrow, neither a power from on high nor a power from below, nor anything else in God's whole world has any power to separate us from the love of God." That beautiful and innocent light may have been obscured from view for most of us yesterday, but as Jesus promised that "the kingdom of God is within you," I know that those children live on, eternally, within all of our hearts, and within the mind of almighty God, where they are forever kept safe, joyful, and free.