I don’t have HBO. But about 7 years ago I got hooked on a show that was unique. The show started out with a balding man in a counselor’s office. The counselor was asking the normal first time counselor questions. You could tell the man’s reluctance at answering the questions. With a heavy New Jersey accent you heard him embarrassingly confess that he passed out. The counselor used the phrase “panic attack” which sets the man off saying “this can’t work.” The Doctor sees where the reluctance is coming from, and asks him why. He shares that he is in the “waste management” business, and that he could be seriously in danger if anyone found out that he was there. Tony is a Mob Boss.
Dr. Malfey assures Tony that as long as he doesn’t talk about any specifics to his job that point to crimes past or present, his occupation should not have any conflict with his therapy. Opening up, tony begins talking about the events that led up to his panic attack. Starting with a stressful conflict he had in the morning over a disputed debt collection. As Malfey reminds him to make sure to leave out any details that would infer crime, Tony looks up with a grin and very charmingly says “we had coffee.”
It was this charming grin, this very round character, Tony Soprano. Who was a Mob Boss but also a Father, a Husband, a Basket Case, a Problem solver, a Cheater, a Lover, and a man; He hooked me in. His efforts at caring for a caustic mother, his balance and failures in family life, and his success in keeping together an organization that corruption was the core; all of this made for a great use of an hour of my time.
I’d wait for the dvd’s to come out and when they did, my week was shot. Sometimes I’d catch a rogue “contemporary” viewing when I found someone with HBO, but usually it was all in one chunk. The initial writing of the first two seasons allowed me to have grace for some of the weaker characters and story lines that would follow. Still, it was a pleasure that I looked forward to.
Six or seven years later someone knew it was time. They needed to close out the show. This made me excited. How do you end such a complex show? Do you kill off the main character? Do you have him go into witness protection? I was there with the speculators letting my mind run with anticipation. As the episodes got closer and closer to the finale, you saw a deliberate movement of other bosses in Tony’s territory, you saw complex family issue creating new “Business issues”, and you also saw Tony becoming nicer and nicer. Could it be that the feds have what they need to jail tony for life? Could it be that Johnny Sac from new York offs Tony once and for all. Will Tony’s son be like his father? All of these would be answered at the season finale.
I scored a viewing at my parents’ house. They have HBO. The day arrives and as I’m watching the episode I’m noticing that it is going pretty slow. I say to myself. “um pick it up people you have a lot to accomplish in one episode.” Yet still snail’s pace. 20 minutes to the end I have yet to see any sort of loose end tied up so I think to myself “oh the last 10 minutes are going to be awesome. Finally about two minutes to the end you start to see something start to move in. Are they feds? Are they someone going to kill the whole family? There is a space of time where it will all be completed. We were all on the edge of our seat. And then nothing.
I mean nothing. The screen goes blank. All of us at once go “what?” and instinctively reach for the remote. Something happened! We’re missing the final information that will make this whole show worthwhile. Give us closure, give us carnage, give us an ending. Is the TV broken? Soon the credits start rolling up and I realize that THAT! Was the ending. NOTHING WAS THE ENDING! That was their choice. Not impressed.
For the next couple weeks I was reeling from the loss, pissed that I had spent all that time investing in the characters that these writers had spent so much time on. Only to have the writers just cop out and say “you make the call.” I was watching the show because I don’t have that kind of imagination. You need to spell it out for me. After a while I figured it was just a poor decision that got carried out, and I was over it. I had all the seasons on my shelf but the final one.
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I thought I was over it until Friday night.
First of all I never remember my dreams unless I wake up during them. Secondly the only time I wake up is during huge emotion. Fear from a scary dream, Tears from a sad dream, waking up laughing from a funny dream. Saturday morning I remembered my dream. And I did because I had a super intense emotion. You see… because I killed Tony Soprano.
Dreams are weird, and when you tell them to your friends you always feel more stupid after you’ve told it. “So we were in my house but it looked entirely different, and My best friend Jack Rusina from grade school was there, but he had half of Christy Brinkley’s face. Anyway…”
So in my dream I was posing as a waiter at this Italian restaurant. And I had a gun, but it wasn’t a real gun because I couldn’t use a real gun for whatever reason. So instead I had a handmade gun… like what John Malcovich used in that one movie that he was going to kill the president… I think Kevin Costner was in it. Anyway… There he was, Tony Soprano. Obviously still alive and kicking. Not in witness protection, still doing the same old thing. I did my job as waiter, filled up his water, took his order, waiting for the opportunity. Tony was alone, the restaurant was full but his table was for one. Between the bread and the main dish I knew it was time. Not a lot of fear, just duty bound.
I held out my oddly crafted pipe gun that was made out of wood putty. I aimed. This was important as it seemed to function like a video game sniper. I realized that if I was hasty, and just wanting the job over with I would have shot off Mr. Soprano’s Nose. I re-aimed for the middle of his head and pulled the trigger.
At this point I woke up. This was because I had a huge emotion. It wasn’t an intense fear for my life that someone would come after me in revenge. It wasn’t remorse for killing a man. It was pure joy and satisfaction. Satisfaction at this accomplished work. It was over. As my eyes opened, and I felt the joy of knowing something very odd, something very black and white, the end of a struggle. Tony to me was a very complex man, with charm, and many endearing qualities. Those qualities made the rest of him palatable. The killing, crime boss had not escaped death again. My bullet had killed him once and for all.
It was so weird because I didn’t have the luxury of being sad for Tony the family man, I only felt joy that his reign of crime was over. His killing is now at an end. His charming smile would no longer carry me down the road of theft, drugs, cheating, or violence. Perhaps I was happiest because I finally knew the end, and maybe I killed him off because I blamed him for writers that wouldn’t commit to an end. Regardless, I was not conflicted about his death, nor am I today. TONY NEEDED TO DIE!
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Last week Todd talked on a concept that we’ve been fiddling around with called the 25%. How I understand it is it your soft underbelly where there is very light armor. It is the percentage of you that you hide from, that you want no one to know about… especially your enemies. Also, because we spend a lot of time guarding our 25%, it also acts as a significant motivator in our lives. For instance: one of the constant voices in my 25% is that I feel worthless in all that I do. You may agree, you may disagree, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling that way. As a result, if it isn’t in check, it fuels motivations. Sometimes it has positive motivations associated with it out of reaction such as talking a sermon on Sunday… trying to do less worthless things. Other times it can have negative motivations, like if I were to not have this 25% in check my relationship with you would solely be based on whether YOU make me feel better about myself.
When we’ve talked about this, I also found that this 25% worked really well with my addictions. I found that my addictions our directly related to wanting to TURN OFF that feeling of worthlessness in my life.
What is addiction? Addiction is a compulsion to use a substance to feel good, or to avoid feeling bad. Narcotics Anonymous believes that defining addiction is part of the recovery process. They also state that your first step is to admit your powerlessness over it. That admission is the foundation upon which their recovery is built. What is that thing that you are powerless over? That thing that you need God’s grace every day in order to live without.
For me addiction is that compulsion that gets hold of your life and pulls you down to death. It’s very similar to a good family man who has a cool accent that you hear is in the mob. He starts taking you under his wing and you do some small jobs for him. You get the bug, you like the people, and you begin asking for more. Soon you start doing things that you can’t talk about. You begin reconciling how you live. And you realize that you are trapped. You can’t get out. You are either going to die, or you are going to work for Tony, and kill others.
I’m going to say something that is not normal for me at all. The things that are in your life that you have in there because your life has been difficult; those addictions that are slowly scraping away at your personality; those things that are beginning to be more YOU than you. Whether it is drugs, alcohol, manipulation, sex, whatever it is. KNOCK IT OFF.
Let me be careful when I say this. Because I don’t want you to equate addiction with evil, addiction with bad. We all have struggles that we must overcome. I also don’t want you to feel like you can’t be at church or around me if you do have those. “Knock it off” has been a mantra of spiritual organizations. “Knock it off, fly right! Be a part of the light not the dark, and if you are in the dark, than you don’t belong.” Let me encourage you. You are loved NO MATTER WHAT! God loves you because you exist. What I am saying is NOT a love contingency. I am NOT saying “I’ll love you IF.”
What I am saying is that your addiction affects those around you because it is a social disease. It affects all family members. It’s a genetic disease, so it’s affecting more than one person your family, literally. And it operates in a system. That disease affects all the other members of the system. It contains itself by using that system and we have to change the system so the disease can’t flourish any longer.
We need to change our system. No one wants a bunch of weird spiritual tattletales. No one wants to feel like they are going to be gastoppoed. But in order to have this community flourish, we cannot be a culture of enablers to our addictions. We need to work together to climb out.
Paul writes a little about this in Romans 6
5 Since we have been united with him in his death, we will also be raised to life as he was. 6 We know that our old sinful selves were crucified with Christ so that sin might lose its power in our lives. We are no longer slaves to sin. 7 For when we died with Christ we were set free from the power of sin. 8 And since we died with Christ, we know we will also live with him. 9 We are sure of this because Christ was raised from the dead, and he will never die again. Death no longer has any power over him. 10 When he died, he died once to break the power of sin. But now that he lives, he lives for the glory of God. 11 So you also should consider yourselves to be dead to the power of sin and alive to God through Christ Jesus.
Paul says reckon yourselves dead to sin. Reckon yourself dead to your addiction. Meaning COUNT on the fact that we are dead to sin. Count on it! If it is dead then let it be dead. Are you trying to stick around and raise it up again? Tony Soprano will no longer be alive. There might be his henchman, there might be his business; but when something is dead, COUNT on him no longer having dinner with you or putting you into his service. There is no more TONY! There is no more addiction. There is no more sin. It’s gone.
OK the next part talks about the practicalities:
12 Do not let sin control the way you live;[a] do not give in to sinful desires. 13 Do not let any part of your body become an instrument of evil to serve sin. Instead, give yourselves completely to God, for you were dead, but now you have new life. So use your whole body as an instrument to do what is right for the glory of God. 14 Sin is no longer your master, for you no longer live under the requirements of the law. Instead, you live under the freedom of God’s grace
You shouldn’t just “know” that stuff is dead. Paul is encouraging us to do the practical living out of what we may know. He says don’t yield yourself as an instrument of your addiction. Don’t present yourself to who you were. We are powerless over our addictions. Paul is encouraging us to not present ourselves to that addiction. If you struggle with WHATEVER, don’t present yourself to whatever. Don’t follow Tony into that place just because he has a nice smile. “He’s telling the truth though, a little bit doesn’t hurt.” He’s dead. Don’t follow him there.
A little girl fell out of bed one night and began to cry. Her mom rushed into her bedroom, picked her up, put her back into bed, and asked her, “why’d you fall out?” and she said “ I think I stayed to close to the place where I got in.” And that’s the reason many of us fall back into our game. We’re in too close to where the chaos of our addiction would suck us in and make us work for that addiction. We’re entering Christianity, taking advantage of the grace, and sticking too close to the door we entered in on.
The stains might stay in the carpeting of the Italian restaurant. And we may not be able to get rid of the corpse for good. But we are told “present yourselves to God.” Yield yourself to God. Don’t let Tony have your world. Don’t let his chaos dictate who you are. Present yourself to God.
I think that is why I felt such joy in the dream, because I no longer had to compromise to a way of life that was death. I was free. And I was presenting myself to freedom.
Now, there are those that may say. “Hey… I’m going to die anyway. I might as well live it up.” But I ask, is your life a life you want to live? Or are you trapped making decisions that perpetuate a lifestyle you don’t want? “Then what can I do to counteract addiction?” Let me share an attitude that is in the bible that understands fatalistic thinking (I’m going to die) but gives an answer to life, even more, life in opposition to addiction.
Philipians2: 21 For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. 22 If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! 23 I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; 24 but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. 25 Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, 26 so that through my being with you again your joy in Christ Jesus will overflow on account of me.
Paul’s 25% is that he hates that he has murdered people that would have been his friends. He would rather stuff it into a closet somewhere than let it air out. He has positive motivators in his life compensating for his grievous bloody past; he’s out there telling people about the Jesus that changed his life. But in negative times Paul possibly slips into an addiction of self righteousness. I’m right, you’re wrong, and this cuts him off from relationship with others, and he begins working for Tony. A lonely job when you’re in jail. His addiction may say to him at night. You’re right, you don’t need anyone, and you can die now. But Paul in Philippians found the one thing that counteracts the narcissism of his addiction: Service.
It’s time to learn to be of service. This IS the opposite of addiction. It fights with everything that addiction wants. If you want to change from problem to solution, serve those you have hurt. When I see someone doing just simple acts of service, like going out and serving someone a sandwich, that’s when I know that sobriety is kicking in.
I know it is scary. I know you’ve been within his service for a long time. But today it is time to shoot your addiction…DEAD. Don’t go trying to revive it. It is dead. Learn to not get close enough to pick it up again. Stay away from its swirl. YOU ARE POWERLESS AGAINST IT. Finally, place the opposite in your life, and serve others.
I thought it would be cool to do a mind exercise to end with. Because addiction is a brain disease, I thought a brain exercise might help.
Find a quiet spot where you will be able to not be interrupted for 15 minutes. Close your eyes and envision the following:
You are at the Italian Restaurant. Smells of pasta, meat sauce, and fresh bread are in the air. Checkered tablecloths all around, perhaps a accordion music playing in the background. You are dressed as a head waiter; black comfortable clothing and your apron. Under a napkin you hold a pistol. Its weight in your hand is one of power, of danger, of reality that death is imminent.
Your addiction is at the fifth table. Take a look at it. It runs your world. Is it an old balding man that has you working and doing things you hate? Is it a beautiful woman that uses her manipulation to hold you down? What does it look like? Describe it. Who is it? How have they captured you?
It’s time. You approach in slow motion. Raise your napkined hand. Aim for the middle of the skull. And pull the trigger. The bullet is right on target. There are screams. Your addiction falls dead. Calmly, like an assassin, you leave the scene free. Free. You no longer serve it. It is dead.
Now as a final exercise. Take a look at the people that were affected by your service of that addiction. Who was hurt? What relationships were strained? Choose one of those people, and plan to serve them. What would they like? What would they appreciate? Schedule a time where you will do that one act. And know when that is accomplished, it is one more nail in the coffin of your addiction.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
The Bitter Pill
Listen to it
Today I have some readings for you. Two approaches to the difficulties of life. I thought I'd start with blood and carnage:
The day after Thanksgiving, November 24, 1972, was just another day on our 300-acre dairy farm, and I proceeded to work it out as usual with long hours and devoted energy. I managed to leave the fields of golden grain the previous day for about three hours to enjoy a feast with my family, little knowing what lay ahead of me the following day.
While operating the corn picker this Friday afternoon I noticed that one corn-gathering chain was not moving. Disengaging the power-take-off, I observed that the chains were loose and proceeded to adjust the tension. I then engaged the power-take-off from a standing position on the ground, and still one gathering chain did not move. With the corn picker dividing points in a raised position and the machine in operation at about 100 revolutions per minute, I looked into the center corn-divider-access hole to determine why the left gathering chain did not turn. In so doing, I unconsciously bent my right knee in a forward position and into the right gathering chain which was in operation. The gathering chain pulled my leg in a wedged-tight position with knee forward, and the toe of my shoe pointed downward toward the snapping rolls. The slip clutches on the gathering chains were activated, so the chains stopped their moving.
With pains in my legs from the wedging pressure, I realized my leg would be taken into the machine should the chains resume movement. I tried desperately to decide the next move. Will the slip clutches wear out or will they re-engage and pull me into the snapping rolls? My hasty decision was to take hold of my leg with both hands and, with a quick jerk pull my leg free. This was not the answer, as it only loosened my leg enough to permit the slip clutches to re-engage and take my leg into the snapping rolls. One leg was pulled in only to be followed by the other.
In a matter of seconds my legs were practically mutilated to the knees while I remained in a sitting position with the snapping rolls turning under my groins. I screamed loudly for help and almost immediately my voice was faint. Aware that no one was near to hear my call-no one but God-I prayed a simple prayer, "Lord, please send help!" A passage of Scripture from Psalm 18:6 has become very precious to me since that time-"In my distress I called upon the Lord and cried unto my God: He heard my voice out of His temple, and my cry came before Him, even into His ears."
During the next 10 to 15 minutes or gruesome agony, I concluded this situation could very well mean death for me. But I was resolved to the fact that "live or die," I was a child of God, and He gave me perfect "peace of mind."
As I remained in this position, I intermittently called with my weakened voice for help. Presently, a fifteen-year-old kid vividly dressed in green appeared on the scene. He was a neighbor boy who lived less than a mile from our farm who had taken a walk in the nearby woods to look for deer tracks. When I saw the young man, whom I have since surnamed Robin Hood, I knew God meant to save my life. With renewed courage, I gave the lad instructions to stop the machine and proceed to get emergency aid. Scott did a terrific job of getting things moving by entering the house and using the telephone. My wife and son, who had been shopping, arrived just as he had completed the call, and together they continued to seek help.
Rescue workers soon arrived with cutting torches and emergency equipment. Also, many friends and neighbors appeared on the scene. After about 45 minutes work, during which time I witnessed and made suggestions to the workmen, I was removed from the machine and rushed to the hospital. It was necessary to have emergency surgery to remove both legs above the knees.
Many folks who have heard this story have asked, "How would you feel about the accident if you were not a Christian?"
My answer is simple. I would be a bitter and resentful man, angry at the lack of safety switches or guard bars as well as my own impetuous response. I would spend a lifetime feeling sorry for myself, as I jealously watch the unimpaired walk by.
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Some of us may take this GODLY approach to difficulties of life. Others may take another road. Here's an open letter I found on myspace to a woman who may have developed a psychosis because of difficulties that were happening in her life:
Mrs. Pearl Burras, General Delivery, Tuna, Texas.
Dear Mrs. Burras. After a recent unsettling phone call from your niece Bertha Bumiller, I feel compelled to write you. As you know, relations have been strong between the Humane Society and those who raise chickens. We do understand that this is your livelihood, disgusting as it may be to those of us here at the Humane Society.
We do feel, however, that you are posing a danger to the children of your neighborhood, as well as their pets. We're sure you love the kids of your neighborhood as much as we do.
Mrs. Burras, we have traced over seventy dog-poisonings to your doorstep. Now, don't you think you've taken eccentricity a bit too far?
We feel that you have been somewhat over-zealous in the protection of your chickens.
In fact, Mrs. Burras, there are those of us at the Humane Society who believes that you actually enjoy poisoning dogs.
We are well aware of your "bitter pills', those strychnine-laced biscuits rolled into enticing little dough balls.
We are also aware that your Husband Henry is the owner of Ripper, the finest birddog in Dewy County. How could anybody who lives around a $2,000 dog like Ripper poison peoples puppies heartlessly?
Mrs. Burras, you have classic symptoms of caninicidal thumbitus, a psychological disorder that causes you to want to kill other people's dogs, for real or imagined reasons.
Now the only known cure for caninicidal thumbitus is to surround the patient with lots and lots of dogs until the urge to kill passes.
And you are in luck, Mrs. Burras. The humane society has a one way bus ticket for you to Dallas, to the Texas State Dog Fair, where you can be surrounded by over a thousand dogs.
Mrs. Burras - if you make it through the entire show without poisoning a single animal, the Humane Society will pay your bus fare home. Think of the peace of mind! And the dogs of your neighborhood can have respite from the death and carnage to which they have been subjected.
Sincerely,
Petey Fisk
Greater Tuna Humane Society.
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I can just see the sad Scenario where Pearl is feeding her chickens, and a poodle get loose in her yard, she quickly searches for the strychnine which has been poorly hidden by Henry her husband. As she lays down the bitter pill. She sweetly says: Here puppy puppy! At which point Ripper's ears perk up and he ingests the poison. The delicious biscuit with the evil death inside. If only she listened to Petey! If only she took that one way ticket to the Texas State Dog Fair. If only she could lay down that bitter pill! Then perhaps little Ripper might have a chance!
When I went to school in Massachusetts I was bright eyed, and in love with learning. My friends skipped around the campus with joy at finding the undiscovered educational country! We would every once and a while run into a pasty white breed that had obviously stayed in their room for far too long. They looked angry and malnourished and they would mainly come out when you were having your most fun. Laughing… Playing music… WEEEEEE.
We began to call these students the B.O.S. this was short for Bitter Older Students. They would stomp up the stairs if you had your music above 5.5 and would approach you in the library if you were smiling and say "I once was like you. I once had hope that this was a fresh exciting place. I once was a freshman just like you. Thought this place would bring me to great heights. Soon you'll want to leave hear too! Soon you'll hate this place just like me!
These Bitter Older students found that the school didn't promise what they thought it was promising. Instead they had a new belief in the school that was something that they hated. It was too expensive, it was not worth it. They just wanted OUT! This bitterness would set in. and sometimes create great apathy. And would cause them to give up, or become graduates after an 8 year pot binge. This bitterness would prove to be their own cell where nothing would happen for years.
Like the B.O.S.'s experience, Life has a tendency to cause bitterness whether you are a corn picker or a woman with a poodle in your yard. Life has a tendency to cause dissatisfaction and perceptions that we don't want to hold on to. We don't want poodles in our yard! We DO want legs! But life takes the working corn gathering chain and takes our legs out from under us. Many of us don't see it like the Christian Corn picker who is witnessing to the people as his body is being cut free. And we begin developing our bitter pill. We play the same scene over and over, mouthing our words of disappointment. Some days we break free and wake up to a new day where we say we're going to quit this addiction once and for all, and then just as abruptly fall asleep with the culprit's stench all over us.
We all have forgivenesses that we must forgive. We all have the road before us that has been there for quite some time. And for some reason we have allowed ourselves to stay at the crossroads. You listen to each others jokes and they haven't changed in years. The careful droning of a bitter tongue gets laughs now, but when others go home, and have the ability to shake off your words they know that you have issues with what you're joking about.
Why do we stay? Why do we stay in our bitterness?
I had the opportunity last Tuesday to have a conversation with someone and they said "People really have two choices: to stay bitter, or to grow and move on."
And I think we have that same choice today. Between bitterness or trust. Frustration or Faith. We have been standing at this crossroads for quite sometime. And the lack of change of scenery has just proven our point; as the hot sun beats down on our souls, making us feel even more trapped. Beat up by our own despair, surrounded by our own doubt.
Even the mention of God being the answer is seen as a Joke. A comedy. A parody of life that tends to make the spewer of the good news to look like a clown. Have hope! God loves you! "HA!" Because the fact is: that when this world is infiltrated by the promises of God, it is ridiculous. It is laughable. One such promise was a child to a 90 year old woman. The post menopausal Sarai was eavesdropping on the angel and her husband, and when the angel expressed her deepest longing: to care for her very own baby, and that she would have that, the only thing she saw was her 70 years of lack. Was she bitter? Regardless there was something funny about the preposterous notion that a woman at her age could, after all this time, have her womb opened and baby born. It's a joke right? It's a funny one.
And when you see the circumstances surrounding the promises of God you really do have two choices. To be bitter or to have a good laugh and hope that God knows what he's doing. Hannah saw this happen in her life, with her child Samuel born. She at first couldn't have a baby. Who knows what envy she had towards the other wives that had children of their own, who knows the sadness in her heart that fueled her prayers? But when bitterness would simply put out the fire of prayer, it's our faith in a God that hears our prayers and answers them, that begins to move us closer to those pure desires of our heart. Bitterness puts out prayer. Growth means including God in the answer.
Throughout scripture we have people that have reason to be bitter. Abraham being promised that he would be the father of many nations, and then having ONE legitimate child. Joseph as he was in jail. Job covered in sores, in the worst pain, and his friends all around him saying "why are you such a sinner?" Even Jesus the Son has just cause to be bitter at God the Father for the invention of the cross.
How did they escape the trap of living in a scathing loathe of life. How did we not get recorded the mutterings under the breath of these people? Were they saints? I guess some of them were. But how come they don't function like normal pissed off people. How could the early Christians view their friends getting sawed in half, and still carry on?
James says something that can trigger anyone's bitter pill: "1:2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. 4 Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." Thanks James. Now not only do I need to face my trials, but I need to not be pissed at the lame circumstance in which my trials occur?
How can you do that James? How can you not look at the lives of the people in difficult circumstance and take on their outrage? What sort of mental anesthesia are you taking to flip what would make someone bitter into someone that is joyful? Are you a fool? Do you know something that I don't?
Actually James does know something that I think I've forgotten. When James is talking about our attitudes of our heart towards the difficult circumstances in our lives, he has a concept that there is a good purpose behind them. So many times in our existential world, we think that we are a sail to be batted about by the wind for no reason. Trials are meaningless; suffering is senseless, testing is irrational. AND IT IS unless there is a good purpose behind it. James and most of the biblical characters and writers are of the opinion that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. SO the reason why he is saying "consider it pure joy when you face trials" is he has faith that God has purpose in allowing this trial in your life.
A dumb illustration that helped me understand this better was how airplanes are built. They start out designing a new plane on the drawing board. Then blueprints are drawn up and models are made. The models are tested, and then construction begins. After about two years the first plane will roll off the assembly line. BUT the question remains: Will it fly? Will it perform? Are we going to put tons of people on it? Heck No! Not until we know it can fly. So a test pilot must then put the plane through the paces up in the air, then once the plane has proven to be all that the maker said it is, there is confidence in the plane and the airlines will buy it. Likewise we can say our faith is good in theory, by design, etc, but it takes a test to prove that it is genuine. James is saying these trials will show how real your faith is.
But he goes one step further. He says that trying your faith works patience and patience develops her perfect work in you. Why did Sarai have to be barren for 70 years, why does our utmost hearts desire get put off for so long? James would say "because you have a loving God that cares enough for you to wait until you're ready."
Even that can make someone fume. "OOOOO I can't believe it … I want it now" But I can believe a terrible scenario where someone would build a plane, not test it, and in one crash hundreds of casualties would be the result.
Bitterness is the result of not getting what you want, and feeling entitled to it. Bitterness is a cage that keeps you where you are, and cuts you off from any growth into faith and patience. Bitterness stops you from who you are meant to be. If you have bitterness, you might want to ask God to help you.
“But I did ask, and it didn't help.” Did you ask for a baby for 70 years? Did you ask for your people to be set free from slavery? Maybe you just asked for some new legs? Could it be that you have simply forgotten that God loves you, and that the allowance of this difficulty in your life is to let you settle in a trusting relationship with him? "Because you have a loving God that cares enough for you to wait until you're ready."
Let’s break out of our cage!
You are meant to take off in faith. Believe that there is someone out there that has turned the tables on death, and has given you a promise of eternal life. Of life abundant, that lets you laugh at the lies of despair. There is a way to have pure joy when you face the trials of your life. And as those trials prolong their stay. Have faith that your patience will bring you great growth.
Today. Let the Power of God's Promises break open our cages of bitterness so that we can trust in God again, and grow into who He wants us to be.
Today I have some readings for you. Two approaches to the difficulties of life. I thought I'd start with blood and carnage:
The day after Thanksgiving, November 24, 1972, was just another day on our 300-acre dairy farm, and I proceeded to work it out as usual with long hours and devoted energy. I managed to leave the fields of golden grain the previous day for about three hours to enjoy a feast with my family, little knowing what lay ahead of me the following day.
While operating the corn picker this Friday afternoon I noticed that one corn-gathering chain was not moving. Disengaging the power-take-off, I observed that the chains were loose and proceeded to adjust the tension. I then engaged the power-take-off from a standing position on the ground, and still one gathering chain did not move. With the corn picker dividing points in a raised position and the machine in operation at about 100 revolutions per minute, I looked into the center corn-divider-access hole to determine why the left gathering chain did not turn. In so doing, I unconsciously bent my right knee in a forward position and into the right gathering chain which was in operation. The gathering chain pulled my leg in a wedged-tight position with knee forward, and the toe of my shoe pointed downward toward the snapping rolls. The slip clutches on the gathering chains were activated, so the chains stopped their moving.
With pains in my legs from the wedging pressure, I realized my leg would be taken into the machine should the chains resume movement. I tried desperately to decide the next move. Will the slip clutches wear out or will they re-engage and pull me into the snapping rolls? My hasty decision was to take hold of my leg with both hands and, with a quick jerk pull my leg free. This was not the answer, as it only loosened my leg enough to permit the slip clutches to re-engage and take my leg into the snapping rolls. One leg was pulled in only to be followed by the other.
In a matter of seconds my legs were practically mutilated to the knees while I remained in a sitting position with the snapping rolls turning under my groins. I screamed loudly for help and almost immediately my voice was faint. Aware that no one was near to hear my call-no one but God-I prayed a simple prayer, "Lord, please send help!" A passage of Scripture from Psalm 18:6 has become very precious to me since that time-"In my distress I called upon the Lord and cried unto my God: He heard my voice out of His temple, and my cry came before Him, even into His ears."
During the next 10 to 15 minutes or gruesome agony, I concluded this situation could very well mean death for me. But I was resolved to the fact that "live or die," I was a child of God, and He gave me perfect "peace of mind."
As I remained in this position, I intermittently called with my weakened voice for help. Presently, a fifteen-year-old kid vividly dressed in green appeared on the scene. He was a neighbor boy who lived less than a mile from our farm who had taken a walk in the nearby woods to look for deer tracks. When I saw the young man, whom I have since surnamed Robin Hood, I knew God meant to save my life. With renewed courage, I gave the lad instructions to stop the machine and proceed to get emergency aid. Scott did a terrific job of getting things moving by entering the house and using the telephone. My wife and son, who had been shopping, arrived just as he had completed the call, and together they continued to seek help.
Rescue workers soon arrived with cutting torches and emergency equipment. Also, many friends and neighbors appeared on the scene. After about 45 minutes work, during which time I witnessed and made suggestions to the workmen, I was removed from the machine and rushed to the hospital. It was necessary to have emergency surgery to remove both legs above the knees.
Many folks who have heard this story have asked, "How would you feel about the accident if you were not a Christian?"
My answer is simple. I would be a bitter and resentful man, angry at the lack of safety switches or guard bars as well as my own impetuous response. I would spend a lifetime feeling sorry for myself, as I jealously watch the unimpaired walk by.
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Some of us may take this GODLY approach to difficulties of life. Others may take another road. Here's an open letter I found on myspace to a woman who may have developed a psychosis because of difficulties that were happening in her life:
Mrs. Pearl Burras, General Delivery, Tuna, Texas.
Dear Mrs. Burras. After a recent unsettling phone call from your niece Bertha Bumiller, I feel compelled to write you. As you know, relations have been strong between the Humane Society and those who raise chickens. We do understand that this is your livelihood, disgusting as it may be to those of us here at the Humane Society.
We do feel, however, that you are posing a danger to the children of your neighborhood, as well as their pets. We're sure you love the kids of your neighborhood as much as we do.
Mrs. Burras, we have traced over seventy dog-poisonings to your doorstep. Now, don't you think you've taken eccentricity a bit too far?
We feel that you have been somewhat over-zealous in the protection of your chickens.
In fact, Mrs. Burras, there are those of us at the Humane Society who believes that you actually enjoy poisoning dogs.
We are well aware of your "bitter pills', those strychnine-laced biscuits rolled into enticing little dough balls.
We are also aware that your Husband Henry is the owner of Ripper, the finest birddog in Dewy County. How could anybody who lives around a $2,000 dog like Ripper poison peoples puppies heartlessly?
Mrs. Burras, you have classic symptoms of caninicidal thumbitus, a psychological disorder that causes you to want to kill other people's dogs, for real or imagined reasons.
Now the only known cure for caninicidal thumbitus is to surround the patient with lots and lots of dogs until the urge to kill passes.
And you are in luck, Mrs. Burras. The humane society has a one way bus ticket for you to Dallas, to the Texas State Dog Fair, where you can be surrounded by over a thousand dogs.
Mrs. Burras - if you make it through the entire show without poisoning a single animal, the Humane Society will pay your bus fare home. Think of the peace of mind! And the dogs of your neighborhood can have respite from the death and carnage to which they have been subjected.
Sincerely,
Petey Fisk
Greater Tuna Humane Society.
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I can just see the sad Scenario where Pearl is feeding her chickens, and a poodle get loose in her yard, she quickly searches for the strychnine which has been poorly hidden by Henry her husband. As she lays down the bitter pill. She sweetly says: Here puppy puppy! At which point Ripper's ears perk up and he ingests the poison. The delicious biscuit with the evil death inside. If only she listened to Petey! If only she took that one way ticket to the Texas State Dog Fair. If only she could lay down that bitter pill! Then perhaps little Ripper might have a chance!
When I went to school in Massachusetts I was bright eyed, and in love with learning. My friends skipped around the campus with joy at finding the undiscovered educational country! We would every once and a while run into a pasty white breed that had obviously stayed in their room for far too long. They looked angry and malnourished and they would mainly come out when you were having your most fun. Laughing… Playing music… WEEEEEE.
We began to call these students the B.O.S. this was short for Bitter Older Students. They would stomp up the stairs if you had your music above 5.5 and would approach you in the library if you were smiling and say "I once was like you. I once had hope that this was a fresh exciting place. I once was a freshman just like you. Thought this place would bring me to great heights. Soon you'll want to leave hear too! Soon you'll hate this place just like me!
These Bitter Older students found that the school didn't promise what they thought it was promising. Instead they had a new belief in the school that was something that they hated. It was too expensive, it was not worth it. They just wanted OUT! This bitterness would set in. and sometimes create great apathy. And would cause them to give up, or become graduates after an 8 year pot binge. This bitterness would prove to be their own cell where nothing would happen for years.
Like the B.O.S.'s experience, Life has a tendency to cause bitterness whether you are a corn picker or a woman with a poodle in your yard. Life has a tendency to cause dissatisfaction and perceptions that we don't want to hold on to. We don't want poodles in our yard! We DO want legs! But life takes the working corn gathering chain and takes our legs out from under us. Many of us don't see it like the Christian Corn picker who is witnessing to the people as his body is being cut free. And we begin developing our bitter pill. We play the same scene over and over, mouthing our words of disappointment. Some days we break free and wake up to a new day where we say we're going to quit this addiction once and for all, and then just as abruptly fall asleep with the culprit's stench all over us.
We all have forgivenesses that we must forgive. We all have the road before us that has been there for quite some time. And for some reason we have allowed ourselves to stay at the crossroads. You listen to each others jokes and they haven't changed in years. The careful droning of a bitter tongue gets laughs now, but when others go home, and have the ability to shake off your words they know that you have issues with what you're joking about.
Why do we stay? Why do we stay in our bitterness?
I had the opportunity last Tuesday to have a conversation with someone and they said "People really have two choices: to stay bitter, or to grow and move on."
And I think we have that same choice today. Between bitterness or trust. Frustration or Faith. We have been standing at this crossroads for quite sometime. And the lack of change of scenery has just proven our point; as the hot sun beats down on our souls, making us feel even more trapped. Beat up by our own despair, surrounded by our own doubt.
Even the mention of God being the answer is seen as a Joke. A comedy. A parody of life that tends to make the spewer of the good news to look like a clown. Have hope! God loves you! "HA!" Because the fact is: that when this world is infiltrated by the promises of God, it is ridiculous. It is laughable. One such promise was a child to a 90 year old woman. The post menopausal Sarai was eavesdropping on the angel and her husband, and when the angel expressed her deepest longing: to care for her very own baby, and that she would have that, the only thing she saw was her 70 years of lack. Was she bitter? Regardless there was something funny about the preposterous notion that a woman at her age could, after all this time, have her womb opened and baby born. It's a joke right? It's a funny one.
And when you see the circumstances surrounding the promises of God you really do have two choices. To be bitter or to have a good laugh and hope that God knows what he's doing. Hannah saw this happen in her life, with her child Samuel born. She at first couldn't have a baby. Who knows what envy she had towards the other wives that had children of their own, who knows the sadness in her heart that fueled her prayers? But when bitterness would simply put out the fire of prayer, it's our faith in a God that hears our prayers and answers them, that begins to move us closer to those pure desires of our heart. Bitterness puts out prayer. Growth means including God in the answer.
Throughout scripture we have people that have reason to be bitter. Abraham being promised that he would be the father of many nations, and then having ONE legitimate child. Joseph as he was in jail. Job covered in sores, in the worst pain, and his friends all around him saying "why are you such a sinner?" Even Jesus the Son has just cause to be bitter at God the Father for the invention of the cross.
How did they escape the trap of living in a scathing loathe of life. How did we not get recorded the mutterings under the breath of these people? Were they saints? I guess some of them were. But how come they don't function like normal pissed off people. How could the early Christians view their friends getting sawed in half, and still carry on?
James says something that can trigger anyone's bitter pill: "1:2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. 4 Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." Thanks James. Now not only do I need to face my trials, but I need to not be pissed at the lame circumstance in which my trials occur?
How can you do that James? How can you not look at the lives of the people in difficult circumstance and take on their outrage? What sort of mental anesthesia are you taking to flip what would make someone bitter into someone that is joyful? Are you a fool? Do you know something that I don't?
Actually James does know something that I think I've forgotten. When James is talking about our attitudes of our heart towards the difficult circumstances in our lives, he has a concept that there is a good purpose behind them. So many times in our existential world, we think that we are a sail to be batted about by the wind for no reason. Trials are meaningless; suffering is senseless, testing is irrational. AND IT IS unless there is a good purpose behind it. James and most of the biblical characters and writers are of the opinion that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. SO the reason why he is saying "consider it pure joy when you face trials" is he has faith that God has purpose in allowing this trial in your life.
A dumb illustration that helped me understand this better was how airplanes are built. They start out designing a new plane on the drawing board. Then blueprints are drawn up and models are made. The models are tested, and then construction begins. After about two years the first plane will roll off the assembly line. BUT the question remains: Will it fly? Will it perform? Are we going to put tons of people on it? Heck No! Not until we know it can fly. So a test pilot must then put the plane through the paces up in the air, then once the plane has proven to be all that the maker said it is, there is confidence in the plane and the airlines will buy it. Likewise we can say our faith is good in theory, by design, etc, but it takes a test to prove that it is genuine. James is saying these trials will show how real your faith is.
But he goes one step further. He says that trying your faith works patience and patience develops her perfect work in you. Why did Sarai have to be barren for 70 years, why does our utmost hearts desire get put off for so long? James would say "because you have a loving God that cares enough for you to wait until you're ready."
Even that can make someone fume. "OOOOO I can't believe it … I want it now" But I can believe a terrible scenario where someone would build a plane, not test it, and in one crash hundreds of casualties would be the result.
Bitterness is the result of not getting what you want, and feeling entitled to it. Bitterness is a cage that keeps you where you are, and cuts you off from any growth into faith and patience. Bitterness stops you from who you are meant to be. If you have bitterness, you might want to ask God to help you.
“But I did ask, and it didn't help.” Did you ask for a baby for 70 years? Did you ask for your people to be set free from slavery? Maybe you just asked for some new legs? Could it be that you have simply forgotten that God loves you, and that the allowance of this difficulty in your life is to let you settle in a trusting relationship with him? "Because you have a loving God that cares enough for you to wait until you're ready."
Let’s break out of our cage!
You are meant to take off in faith. Believe that there is someone out there that has turned the tables on death, and has given you a promise of eternal life. Of life abundant, that lets you laugh at the lies of despair. There is a way to have pure joy when you face the trials of your life. And as those trials prolong their stay. Have faith that your patience will bring you great growth.
Today. Let the Power of God's Promises break open our cages of bitterness so that we can trust in God again, and grow into who He wants us to be.
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