[This blog is based on a family-focused advent devotional that I recorded in video form for my church. I am sharing a version of it here in the hopes that it might encourage you as well!]

I’m excited to share with you during this season of Advent. Today we are going to look at a passage that most people have heard or seen before, but may never have thought about how amazing and full of meaning it is for our lives. My hope is that you can take a fresh look at it with me and be amazed at God’s good gift in Jesus.

John 3:16-17 says: ¹⁶ “For God so loved the world,^[a] that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. ¹⁷ For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

I cannot comprehensively cover this verse, but I want to focus in on 4 key words/phrases. First is the phrase “God so loved…” Our God is a God characterized by love. This might sound normal to you, but it distinguishes Christianity from almost every other religion. The God of the Bible is personal, involved, engaged, and caring. His commands are out of love and for our flourishing. God loves enough to act so that we can be saved from the brokenness, corruption and evil caused by sin (both the sins of others that affect and hurt us and our own sin as well).

Second is the word “whoever.” This means “anyone.” There is no stratification, no additional ifs that restrict the kind of person that can be included in the phrase “whoever believes in me” here. This passage is not saying that you can only believe in Jesus if you are pretty good and haven’t messed up too bad, or if you have built up enough good deeds, or if you look like you have it together. NO! This means what it says – whoever! Jesus right in this very passage is talking to a very religious person—a Pharisee named Nicodemus—so he is pointing out that the same thing is required of both the religious and the non-religious as well – they must believe in Jesus.

And that brings us to the third word: “believes.” The kind of belief this is talking about is an “all in” kind of belief. It’s not an “okay, I guess I believe that if I will get something out of it” kind of belief. Jesus is not like Santa Clause, about whom tradition says if you believe in him and are good, then he will give you good gifts… No! Believing in Jesus means that we understand our desperate need for God to intervene to save us. It means we know that we aren’t good enough on our own, but we need Him. It means that we trust God and know he is the only one who can accomplish His plan to save us.

So what are we to believe exactly? The next phrase tells us: “in Him.” If we are going to believe “in him,” it means we need to know who he is—He is God with us, the Messiah, the promised one.  It also means we believe that we need Him.  We recognize that we are, without Him, moving towards death, towards “perishing.”  We recognize that the only way to have eternal life is through Him because God accomplished his rescue plan through every aspect of Jesus’ miraculous life: his promised birth, his birth, his childhood, his years of ministry, his death and his resurrection. 

I understood this concept as a kid, but I didn’t want to need to be rescued. I thought it was nice that God could give us eternal life in Jesus, but I also wanted to feel like I deserved God’s favor. I didn’t realize that I was undermining the gift of God by trying to earn it. The reality is that, from the first chapters of Genesis, right after Adam and Eve sinned and chose their own way over God’s way and plan, humans were on the path to death and destruction—unless God intervened! So from that time, out of love for the people he created, God began to execute his rescue plan to send Jesus as THE WAY for people to go from death to life.

So the sequence to remember is this: We Learn about and see God — We choose to believe in Jesus — We can be confident that we have eternal life.

Then here is the cool thing: knowing that we have eternal life changes how we live here in this life too because we have the ability (through his love, example, and power, not through our own effort) to do good and love people. We do this, not so that we can earn God’s favor, but because we already have his love, the incredible gift of relationship with Jesus, and the promise of life with the one who loves us unconditionally forever.

If you believe this, you can join me in saying “Thank you, God, for saving me.” If not, I encourage you to stay on your spiritual journey and seek to learn about and come to know the God who loves you.

This summer, Jeremiah and I both had the assignment with our ministry of sabbatical. Although we are now deep into the busyness of Fall, we are so thankful that we were given that time to step away from our normal rhythms of ministry (and also legal responsibilities for me) for a couple of months in order to focus on personal reflection, development and rest.

This was our first ministry sabbatical, after 20 years of ministry, so it was needed. The Lord used the time to teach me some things about myself and about his care for us. I thought my growth would come from extra reading and devotional time, and I did find it refreshing, but some of the deepest growth came as I confronted my tendencies toward the idolatry of productivity.

I have a tendency to define myself with a rubric that includes the following: 1) my own sense of productivity and accomplishment and 2) the subjective feeling that others are pleased with my work. So when I paused my normal work, I was tempted to replace it immediately with “fixing up the yard” and “reading lots of books on my list” in order to feel good about myself.  But I realized that wasn’t going to lead to true rest because it was just staying in the same mode. I began to reflect and realized I need to be consistently aware of where I am rooting my primary sense of self. I asked myself: “what would some of the symptoms be if I allow my tendency to root my value in productivity and accomplishment dominate?” Here were some possible symptoms I came up with:

• Unintentionally putting pressure on my children to also perform to gain value.
• Losing the joy of investing in people out of love, and not for what they can then produce (and therefore becoming less effective at pointing people to the true freedom we have in Christ because I wouldn’t be living out that freedom well).
• Feeling unable to truly rest in God’s unconditional love and allowing the lie that ‘I must be disappointing him’ to creep in instead.

I don’t want those symptoms. I have to admit that putting pressure on kids to perform academically has become a greater temptation as we sit like frogs in the academic heating pot of Davis culture, and as we approach many years ahead (starting with this year) where our children will be submitting college applications. Yet I actually deeply want my kids to be free from that pressure. I want (and expect) them to work hard, but I want them to do so not in order to have value, but because they know they already have value, rooted securely in love, and believe that hard work has its own blessings. I want them to desire to love and bless others, not so that they win respect, but in order to reflect God’s beauty and goodness in the world. I want them to see—hopefully modeled through the way I live—that there is a deep and true freedom that enables us to love and invest in people—not so that we get respect or praise—but because we love them as God loves us (I Jn 4:7).

I also want those that I serve through ministry to experience this same heart. Jesus truly did come to bring peace into our lives. He said in John 14:27 “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.” Yet we know that this promise did not mean the absence of interpersonal challenges, because he faced them; it did not mean the absence of physical or financial challenges, because he suffered them; it did not mean the avoidance of global conflict, because it was certainly around him at that time. Instead, the peace has to be more deeply rooted.

These truths help me remember that I am first a disciple and follower of Christ myself, and that my desire to encourage others to also follow Him must flow out of my confidence that there is no better place to be rooted than in Him.

I am thankful that my sabbatical did not just turn into another “task.” I needed to be free from the pressure to do or learn something profound to feel like my sabbatical was worth it. Realizing that allowed me to learn. I want to take the long-term view (just as I always tell my students to do). I will have a greater impact if I am healthy and if I am walking in the freedom that comes from deep dependence on God’s grace. Tim Keller, in his book The Prodigal Prophet, said:

“To reach heart bedrock with God’s grace is to recognize all the ways that we make good things into idols and ways of saving ourselves. It is to instead finally recognize that we live wholly by God’s grace. When we’ve reached bedrock with God’s grace, it begins to drain us, slowly but surely, of both self-righteousness and fear.”

My first week back to my normal work responsibilities, my boss commented in a video call that I seemed very relaxed. I did not expect the comment, but I hope that what he saw is evidence that I am living each day, and accomplishing each task, with awareness of the light of God’s grace at work in my life. 

On Mother’s Day, as I sat in church thinking about my journey as a mother (involving 3 birth kids, 7 foster kids, 2 adopted kids), I remembered the pressure I put on myself to figure out how to parent right before my first son was born. I felt confused, frustrated, and worried as I read books that seemed to contradict one another about things like handling a baby’s crying, bonding with my child, and teaching obedience. How could I do it right, if “experts” couldn’t even agree, much less the different parents and mentors in our lives. Now, don’t get me wrong—I still put plenty of pressure on myself nowadays, and parenting teenagers is a whole different ballgame, but my perspective is a little different now.

Early on, I subconsciously believed that if I could just do things perfectly as a parent, then my kids would be guaranteed to turn out great. And I also allowed the perhaps more damaging belief to creep in as well—that if I didn’t do things right, it would be “my fault” if they didn’t end up healthy, well-adjusted followers of Jesus. I think we all know that is a lie, but we still spend a lot of our time acting like it is true, and beating ourselves up for not living up to whatever we see as the standard (somewhat culturally determined, and somewhat affected by nurture, personality, faith, and our individual passions). Sometimes, people swing to the opposite extreme—they justify almost any bad parenting behavior, by just saying “well, nobody is perfect.” I have seen the result of just “not parenting,” and that is not a good option either. Our choices do affect our children, and we should strive to model a good path for them, but we also don’t and shouldn’t try to take responsibility for everything in their lives.

So how do we handle the fact that failure is everywhere, yet we still long for what is good and right, and we truly do want good for our children? It is a tension…I want the best, but I can’t even live up to it, so how can I expect my children to?

Let me share a very brief picture of my “failure is everywhere” experience by sharing two of my very recent mundane parenting fails that might feel insignificant, but are the very kinds of things that plague us. Maybe you can relate—or maybe I am just weird. First, when a certain child left her backpack out (again!) after getting home from school, despite my reminder as she walked in the door, I failed to display patience and to calmly communicate my expectation that she try again and put it away. I instead resorted to sarcasm and a demeaning comment; I felt instantly bad.  Second, when I was at a flea market, I bought shirts for two of my girls, but didn’t get one for the third girl because I wasn’t sure she would like them…but then she felt hurt, and I beat myself up for not deciding to get it for her too. I didn’t want her to feel unseen or undervalued.

I have found, through the hard knocks of parenting so far, that there is no parenting formula, but there are helpful parenting principles. One key principle for me is to both accept and live out grace and truth, with patience.  Successful parenting means that I guide my kids to value what matters most and brings true happiness—having healthy relationships with God and other people, and using what we have to be a blessing. It means that I seek to discover and live out what is right and good, actively modeling it for my children to the best of my ability, yet also modeling the practice of admitting when I am wrong and walking in humility, grace and truth. It means I help them discover the freedom of joyfully doing good in the world—not so that we can earn our place and prove we have value, but because we know that we are already secure and full relationally, with a God who accepts and loves us, and hopefully family that imperfectly roots us in unconditional love as well.

Prominently positioned in our family room, we have a poster with some of our key family principles listed. It says “In our family, we …” and lists things like “choose respect,” “learn and grow,” “obey our Lord Jesus Christ,” “are for, and not against, one another,” “admit when we are wrong,” and more.  We frequently refer to it in the midst of arguments. I confess that I don’t live up to our values in all of my actions all the time, and neither do the kids. So how do I deal with those symptoms of hypocrisy in myself? Well, I accept the truth that I missed the mark and receive the grace from the Lord that reminds me I am his beloved child. I then also seek to extend that to my kids. I have to receive God’s love to be able to offer it freely. Both wisdom and compassion and forgiveness and grace come from God and His Word, and the best way to live them out is to consider and openly talk about these truths and principles as we live life, in the midst of all of its ups and downs.  Deuteronomy 6:6-7 says “And these words that I command you shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.”

I want to use God’s Word as a guide, not as a cudgel.  Ephesians 6:4 “do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.”  My deepest hope is not that my kids would be perfect, but that they would think rightly (about themselves, life, love, joy and hope), and that they would let it affect how they live.

So I have to parent with something better than perfection in mind. I want them seeing how I deal with my failures and disappointments. Rather than hate myself for my weaknesses and mistakes, even in my parenting, I can see those weaknesses as an opportunity to live out humility, thankfulness for God’s grace, and contentment in the midst of my struggles. I can keep going, not because I think I can achieve perfection, but because I have hope in Christ, the one who is perfect, and yet compassionate and patient with us. He loves us and gave himself for us so that we can have peace. We can taste it now, and can know we will see its true fulfillment in eternity.

I love my children. Parenting is the hardest thing I have ever done, and also the greatest gift!

Growing up in a Christian community in the 90s meant I had some cheezy Christian shirts. One of them was a little illustration of a bunch of different fish going one direction, and then a Christian fish going the other way. It said “Go against the flow.” I think it was supposed to help me remember that, even though it might not be popular to trust God and His Word, it was still worth it.  Nevertheless, something about the way it was framed caused me to understand the verse, Romans 1:16, which I memorized as a girl, with a certain unhelpful lens.  The verse says “I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God for salvation of everyone who believes.” I reinterpreted it with a “Look at me. I am going to stand firm, even if others don’t…” mentality. That “us/them” thinking and the resulting self-centered focus completely misses the point. It isn’t about me—it’s about God.  The verse is actually saying that I have been given the gift of good news—an incredible foundation of hope, love and meaning for life—and I can have the tremendous privilege of sharing that good news with others, so they too can have that hope.

The Apostle Paul is “eager” (v.15) to share the good news broadly with people from all different backgrounds and experiences. He knows that the good news of Jesus transforms people. He wants to invite people into the hope and freedom that is NOT found in being religious and is NOT found in rejecting God and going our own way, but is found in receiving God’s gift of righteousness and life by faith, and then walking with Him by faith.

I believe that nothing in the world can offer peace, love and hope in the midst of a struggling world like Jesus does.  That I see him, know him, see myself the way he does, and love people with the love he has shown me, is absolutely the most important thing about me.  I am not ashamed of him, and look forward to spending the rest of my life journey continuing to follow him and live for him.

Yet it can still feel hard to identify as a Christian.

So what do we tend to be “ashamed” of that feels tied to the trappings of Christianity in this culture? And is that the same thing as being ashamed of the gospel itself? I believe the answer is a clear no. I do, however, need to make sure that the gospel I am proclaiming is the good news that the Bible is actually about—centered on Jesus, not my preferences or my comfort.  I must avoid the painfully common us/them thinking that leads to arrogance, hate and judgmentalism, and instead live as a follower of Jesus, filled with love and humility, rooted in truth and walking in grace. If I do, I indeed will often feel like I don’t fit very well in the dominant culture. The good news of Jesus is for all people and cultures, so it will challenge tendencies in every culture.

Principle-based living and the hard work of nuance.

When I look closely at Jesus’ life, I see that he both loved and challenged every pocket of society, from the deeply religious to the social outcast to the Roman soldiers to the zealots who wanted to overthrow Rome. He was not ashamed of truth, and he determined to live out the will of the Father (Jn. 6:38), even when it meant upsetting the elite of his day. He did not jump on bandwagons or seek out power and prestige, but preached the Word and acted with compassion. He did not just pick what seemed best for him and his reputation, but chose the way of service and sacrifice.

So my standard cannot be to avoid what is uncomfortable. Neither can it be to choose what feels right in my own mind. God’s Word is clear that a gospel-centered life will always include love, not selfishness, as a motivating and animating principle (Colossians 3:14).

We have all heard the proverbial phrase “Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater.” This is the challenge for true followers of Jesus today. We are called to reject the cultural trappings of arrogance and hatred, politics and nationalism, and “look-down-at-others” judgmentalism. When popular expressions of Christianity feel like they are marinated in these cultural attitudes, let’s do the hard work to instead marinate ourselves in God’s Word.  Let us not reject Jesus, but rather get to know him, and make him Lord and King in our hearts and lives. “For I am not ashamed of the gospel…”

[I originally shared this post at https://davischristianfaculty.wordpress.com/, but I wanted to share it here as well.]

I am selfish.

I am needy.

I don’t want to be, but I am like a moth drawn to a flame.

I don’t want to be, because I know that, even when I get or achieve that thing I want, there is just the next thing. The next thing to accomplish, get, experience, feel…

I was playing a game the other day, and I had made my plan. I had a few steps envisioned that would get me into a better position.  Very quickly, every path I had was cut off by an opponent. I suddenly had no plan. I felt like the options were gone, and the whole game suddenly felt very unsatisfying.  I am ashamed to say that I became irritable and rude to my fellow players.  Granted, it was just a game. I could get up, apologize for my sour attitude, and move on with my life.  But what about when life feels like that?

If my life is built around seeing certain things happen, then when more complications come, or my plans become disrupted, it can feel hugely destabilizing.  It is loss.  Similarly, if my desires begin to shift due to disappointments or evolving perspectives, and I don’t even know what I really want anymore, that too is destabilizing.  Part of the problem is that our culture has brainwashed us to think that self-fulfillment and self-actualization are what will lead to happiness. Therefore, if we don’t know what we want, or if we aren’t as good at something as we thought we should be, we can feel like we have failed.

“Self.” “Me.” “My.” Much of our culture says each of us is the center of our own lives. We are each at the center of our dreams and hopes. No wonder selfishness feels so normal. Abraham Maslow’s theory of human motivation has “self-actualization” as the pinnacle of his hierarchy of needs with the goal of achieving one’s “ideal self.” This ‘focus-on-your-needs-and-achieve-your-potential’ mentality feels very normal in our present-day life in the United States. The theory seems to posit that if we can discover who we are and achieve what we are capable of being, then we can find happiness… This framework can analyze the lives of successful people who made a difference in society and conclude that they achieved self-actualization because they realized their full potential through doing great work for society (e.g., Gandhi, Abraham Lincoln, Nelson Mandela). Therefore—it could be extrapolated—a person who wants to achieve happiness should focus on his development opportunities, and find challenges to enhance his skills and realize his full potential.

I think this framing cheapens the accomplishments of history if they are really about individual “selves” achieving their potential. If we all have this individualized lens in looking at both history and our little dot of a life in the grand scheme of history, do we expect that perspective (e.g., making my goal achieving my potential) to bring peace and satisfaction?  One reason it can’t bring satisfaction is that it is too small and weak. Another reason is that it causes tremendous stress to have to figure out my potential and to worry constantly about whether or not I am on track to achieve it. How do I recover from feelings of failure, except to either lower my standard or re-double my efforts?

For example, I might have a vision for an ideal of mothering that I think I should be able to achieve based on my knowledge and potential. And maybe there are days when I live it out well. But what about the other days where I fail…and what about the uncertainty of the “product” because I can’t actually control if each of my five children will be happy, safe, secure, emotionally/physically/spiritually healthy, and successful in their own lives? To give another example, what about the ideal of career success that I believe, if unhindered, I could achieve? If I am not advancing towards it, peace or satisfaction feel far off, and then I might tend to blame and resent the things in my life keeping me from that ideal of success (maybe even my spouse or my children, who require so much of my emotional energy). I will be tempted to say no to anything that could hold me back, and in the process will undermine my ability to experience or live out real unconditional love, which the Bible describes with words like “it does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful…Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things…” (I Corinthians 13:5-7).

There is in fact a much more compelling vision for life that is not focused on “self,” lived out most compellingly in the life of Jesus. In fact, I believe the real core of human relationships and human meaning in the world must be grounded in love, not self. The only way to move away from my selfishness is to replace myself as the center of my life. But it can’t be another person in my circle. They also can’t handle being the center. None of us have the right gravity. We can’t handle keeping things going without everything crashing into itself. We don’t have the ability to set up the world perfectly to sustain life—spinning at just the right speed, with just the right distance from the sun, with just the right gravity from the moon to keep the tides going, with just the right atmosphere so that the water cycle works, and all the other myriad of details that only God can handle.

So it is God who must be at the center, not me.  But why do I keep trying to claw my way back into the center? I somehow can even make it about me when my children disobey me (don’t they know how hard it makes it for me when they do that?). I make things about me when I worry about possibly offending someone that I barely know, because somehow I think it deeply matters if they think I am a good person. I am not actually that important.

Freedom comes from grounding myself in the love God has so graciously shown to me, and from knowing that, as someone made in His image (Genesis 1:27), I get to reflect his goodness and be part of what he is doing in the world. That means being part of serving other people, seeing them as more important than myself (Philippians 2:3), because I see them as equally beautiful and made in God’s image, just like me.  I can be free to fail, because I know that when I admit my weakness, it all the more reflects just how good God is as he loves and restores and transforms me. I am at rest because I am relationally loved and secure, and I can be part of that rest for others as I share that love with them.

What a school year it has been…I have seen joy and laughter; I have seen uncertainty and pain. Many people I know, especially teachers, have reached points of complete exhaustion along the way. I too have felt the weariness. These two-plus years of “the pandemic that won’t quite end” have taken a toll. I feel it when I sit next to a college student who is uncertain of his skills and afraid for his future. I feel it as I observe the elementary student with social anxiety who isn’t sure who her true friends are. I feel it when I see the young teacher who spent a year teaching online, and a year teaching 25 traumatized kids at 25 different levels, who is now questioning her calling. I feel it on those days when I wonder why I am so tired and yet don’t know how to process the deep emotions I feel; when the tears feel just under the surface and a few notes of a familiar song can spill them out. Sometimes they spill out in hope, after a glimpse of beauty; sometimes they spill out in sorrow, connecting with the pain of those I see or even strangers I read about that somehow don’t feel so distant because of our common humanity.

Treading Water

I am constantly moving
Managing to stay afloat.
I am determined to keep pressing on,
Yet uncertain if I am getting anywhere.
Will weariness defeat me?

I fear if I stop, I will start to sink;
Resting feels out of reach.
I am both inadequate and overconfident,
Thinking I alone must keep my people safe.
Will fear disable me?

I long for more than staying afloat,
Desiring impact, meaning, love, change.
I want to grow and help others grow,
To swim toward a peace-filled shore.
Will dependence strengthen me?

I will never give up. Yet it won’t be because of me, but as I depend on the Lord’s strength. He has loved me with a steadfast love. I always tell the girls that I mentor to “take the long-term view.” God will not leave us and he is not done loving us and transforming us for our good as we walk with Him. When I have trouble following my own advice, I need to once again fix my eyes on Jesus and trust in him! (Phil 1:6; Heb 12:2; Isaiah 26:3; Prov 3:5-6).

I was correcting one of my daughters in her thinking the other day, and I asked her some questions to try to get her to acknowledge the truth of what her choices were causing and resulting in…. She refused to respond and just stared with that little “eyes of steel” and straight-line mouth expression that she is so good at. I pressed further. After a few more moments of silence and my expectant penetrating gaze that she could see quite clearly out of the side of those hardened eyes, she verbally lashed out with exasperation, “Why should I answer your stupid questions when you already know the answers?!”

“Because, sweet girl”—my endearing name for my girls that helps me in those hot moments to remember that my correction needs to always remain grounded in love—”I am not asking for my benefit. I am asking because I am trying to teach you the good way, and I know that there is power in speaking what is true. I know that freedom comes from admitting things, and that we can only start to change our negative patterns when we see them clearly. It is harder to believe the lie that it is “me against the world” when I actually admit that I am wrong out loud (which is NOT to say others are not also wrong, but does make room for me to learn and grow). Then I can experience love and forgiveness and actually move towards making a better choice next time.”

I had to admit to my daughter that I also brought my sin into this encounter. I probably kept monologuing, like I often do—not particularly helpful… I was also defensive and snarky when I probed, “By the way, do your teachers ever ask you questions that they know the answers to? Hmmm?” All that to say, I need to learn and grow in this area too…

Verbally speaking things about ourselves—both celebratory and painful things—is meaningful. It matters to say it.

• I like ___.
• I am a Christian.
• I am struggling with my identity.
• I am feeling alone.
• I don’t like that.
• I did that thing that hurt you.
• I was wrong (which is different from “I’m sorry”).

Why are these kinds of statements often hard to say?

The Bible points to this principle about how words can bring life and/or death in Proverbs 18:21, where it says “Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits.”

Yet admitting my mistakes, and verbalizing my emotions and my fears enables me to take steps to move forward in a positive way. I want to embrace the truth, and I want to invite others into my journey of life and growth in this messy, broken world I find myself in.  I don’t want my emotional energy to be used up in denying or hiding that thing I am ashamed of, or in worrying about what people will do when they see the real me. When I speak truth and receive grace from God (and hopefully from those around me who love me), then I can safely enter the process of healing and growing. It may be a long journey, but it is the road I need to travel.

Does it matter if we see life as temporary or eternal? Is this eschatological question even worth delving into, or does it just lead us on a nice little philosophical rabbit trail? I believe the answer is a resounding “yes, it matters.”

Colossians 3:1-4 [ESV] says:

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.

“If then…” What an incredible framing—these two little words carry grammatical and theological significance. This is about how our position in Christ changes how we look at life, how we interact with life, and how we live life. The Apostle Paul here points out that whether or not one is “raised with Christ” drastically changes one’s focus and identity.  The phrase ‘If then’ implies that there is a contrast; if it is not true, then the statements that follow are inapplicable.  The side of the “if” that people fall on can become the most important thing about them because it alters their goals and motivations.

Those who are in Christ have an eternal perspective. This means their focus changes from the temporal to the forever. They are to “set their minds” on things beyond this life. In fact, they already see themselves as dead to the things of this world.

What are the “things that are on earth” that grip human attention so strongly—that humans seek instead of “things that are above?” Living in a research university town, I have observed that the vast majority of students see success as bound up in getting good grades, going to a good grad school, getting a good job, and being able to live a comfortable life making good money. For some, it is even more—they feel the need to distinguish themselves as better than others by adding recognition through getting published, moving up the corporate/social/political ladder, and generally becoming known and respected. Those things are not inherently bad. But when people “set their minds” on those things to the exclusion of all else—making them ultimate goals—it fundamentally changes how they live and how they view other people.  If the seventy to ninety years that we get in this life (if we are given that long) are all there is, then it makes sense to want to distinguish ourselves in these ways. But what if they are not all there is?

I believe humans are built with a “beyond themselves” orientation; this is evident even in those who reject God as having significance for their lives.  It is common for people, including atheists, to speak of wanting to leave “something behind” or to have “a legacy.” They have a sense that it is not enough to just live for themselves in the here and now. I believe that is because they are made by God and in his image.

God, however, invites those of us whose identity is in Christ into the freedom of living not for ourselves, but for the hope of His glory.  He invites us to be part of that forever glorious life and impact that Christ has.  It is meaningful to see our impact as tied to eternal things. The implications of setting our minds “on things that are above” is not that we are then aloof and uncaring about the things on this earth, but rather that we care about what God cares about. We can act in ways that bring blessing to the earth, yet live free from the pressure of having to make our lives look ‘significant’ from a me-centered temporal perspective. God gives us a different calculus for determining significance—be part of what He is doing!  The rest of Colossians 3 then teases this out as Paul moves into a profoundly relational description of life on earth.

If people are what is eternal, then it is indeed relationships that have the greatest impact.  We get to use this time on earth to learn to love people, love learning, and to practice living with God’s values in mind.  This life is an opportunity to touch and impact other eternal beings with love, hope and meaning.

So what can we do to orient our hearts to this eternal perspective? Lets remember a couple things. First, remember what is temporary.  For example, John reminds us that the things of the world are passing away (I John 2:15-18). Paul reminds us that our bodies are mortal and breaking down, but God gives us hope for eternity with Him (2 Corinthians 4:16-5:8). Second, remember we are secure in Christ Jesus.  In him I am a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17), presented as blameless because of Christ’s finished work (Colossians 1:22), and with no need to prove myself because I am accepted by grace (Ephesians 2:8-9), able to do good out of love and joy, not to earn favor (Eph 2:10; Col 3:12-14).

The social and cultural waters we swim in can make it difficult to remember these things. We have to regularly remind ourselves of the truth of who we are in Christ. It helps me to periodically self-examine: “What is consuming my thinking time and emotional energy?” And “What is the ‘why’ behind my striving?” I can then ask God to help transform my mind and root my identity in him, so that I might “no longer live for [myself], but for him who for [my] sake died and was raised.” (2 Corinthians 5:14-15). I long to be free from fear and stress, so that I can do my work for His glory—not to justify my existence. My significance is not based on a worldly standard, but on the fullness of significance that Jesus has accomplished and has invited me to be part of. Therefore, as I face the ebbs and flows of frustration and discouragement when my nearsightedness gets the best of me, I can lift my eyes once again to things above, where Christ is and where true life is found.

“Which harm is most important to prevent?”

This seems to be a key question in culture these days. It is behind the vitriol in debates about free speech, discussions about LGBTQ+ rights, conversations about school choice, CRT, religious freedom, gun rights, abortion, etc. Yet this question raises more questions, like: “How do we define harm?” and “How do we measure prevention of that harm?” and “What other interests and rights are we willing to sacrifice in the process?”  The answers to those questions are often very perspective-bound, but stated as obvious absolutes, instantly marginalizing anyone who thinks differently (thereby polarizing news sources all the more because no one wants to read something that makes them feel marginalized). The answers are often then accompanied by a little self-justification like “well, I respect people who think differently, but….” (and then an under-the-breath thought ‘but those people are so stupid and uneducated.’ Or ‘but they are so corrupted and immoral’ or ‘if only they could see how unloving they are’).

As I think about it, I notice that the way the harm question is framed reflects the hyper-polarization and the moralizing language that is so popular right now. Everyone wants the moral high ground. By moving every debate into the moral realm, it allows us to feel superior, and to also frame disagreement, not as a different perspective, but rather as a corrupted and immoral outlook that must be squashed. It results in weapons of rhetoric being aimed at people rather than at ideas.

This is dangerous. It is destructive. It is like a gangrene that kills.  This moralizing also in practice often turns us into hypocrites, as we try to use the very tactics that we recently lamented and called out as manipulative and power-driven when they were used by “the other side.”  We then flatly justify our own behavior because it is in pursuit of “the good,” as defined by our perspective in our culture and in our time in history.

But is it possible that, in a pluralistic culture—as we look for a means for determining government engagement and structures—that we are asking the wrong question? Knowing that we live in a pluralistic world that we must somehow functionally and peacefully live in, we need to step away from the “everyone needs to think like me or the world will implode” mentality. I would say this applies equally to the hyper-conservative and the hyper progressive. I would also say it needs to be applied to temper the arrogance of even the moderately progressive and moderately conservative, who both roll their eyes at the extremes on both sides, but then also look down their noses at one another.

Instead of the “which harm is worse?” thinking, which means there has to be a winner and a loser, perhaps we need to instead ask “how can we treat humans with respect and engage in culture creation that values civility and human dignity?”

This does not mean we lose our beliefs or that we become wishy-washy. Do I believe in right and wrong? Yes. Do I believe that truth exists and can be pursued by humans? Yes. I actually personally believe that there is a sovereign God who created the world and humans and cares about us, knows what will lead to human flourishing, and graciously points us to it. I also believe I don’t have the authority or right to just change my beliefs to whatever I want to—I have placed the holy and gracious Creator God on the throne in my heart and life and that means I don’t get to play god. I believe making him Lord of my life is the best, most freeing decision I have ever made and that my relationship with him as my loving Father gives me peace, hope and purpose. I want more people to experience the hope and peace I have in Jesus. Yet I believe the best way to spread good news, particularly in a pluralistic community, is through love, service, and authentic dialogue. And I firmly believe I can desire good for people who think drastically differently than I do.

I think this principle is true for everyone, regardless of what their views of good news are. And I think, instead of squashing perspectives that don’t fit our notions of good, we should treat people how we want to be treated.

This then raises the age old kids’ objection: But then the other side will win because they aren’t going to play fair… My response to my children then is: “Well, lets respond instead of react: is the choice to get angry and bite back going to actually lead you to what you want, or will it just give you some momentary and fleeting feeling of ‘well, they deserve it,’ while loosing your credibility in the process?”  Individuals must choose to respect and honor other persons as a valuable human beings, even when that respect is not returned.

The immediate question that follows, however, is then “what does it mean to respect?” Some would say if you don’t agree with me, you don’t respect me. If that is our mentality, then we are right back where we started—at an impasse. I respectfully disagree; I think respecting someone is seeing them as a human, with value, and treating them the way I want to be treated. The deeper question is, “Can I care about someone, and show kindness to them, even if they don’t like me or my views, even if they would like to demean me or silence me?” Jesus says I can, and he calls me to do it. He says “love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, …” (Luke 6:35). He then lived it out when he was here on earth. He lived with love and sacrifice in a culture and a time that did not embrace him. And guess what—it made a difference!

We have an obsession with individual choice in our culture. We want our individual rights. Now, it is not wrong to want to preserve rights—we in fact must commit ourselves to righting wrongs and seeking justice–, but I have noticed that a self-oriented focus on “rights” often comes at the cost of the broader community when people, simmering in frustration, cease to love and serve well. We can think, ‘if I do something for the good of the community, but other people don’t, then I will be at a disadvantage…’ We can talk ourselves into stagnation, wondering if choosing to sacrifice and serve is worth the cost to my comfort, my self-sufficiency, my power? Yet I would submit that there is real and personal long-term cost in not thinking about the broader community too!

Those of us who claim to be followers of Jesus should be the first to value the “we.” It is a critical part of Biblical teaching that we are to think of “one another” and are to count the needs of others above our own needs. We are called to care for the poor, to pursue justice, and even to love those we see as enemies. We are to display Christlike qualities of compassion, love, and grace—seeing people as made in the image of God.  We are to do this, not out of our own strength (we cannot live up to this standard on our own!), but because God has poured out his love and undeserved favor on us. He accepts us as His children even as we were still (and are still) broken and messy and sinful. We love, because he first loved us. (I Jn. 4:19).

So…why don’t we see this others-centeredness—this servant-heartedness that should characterize those who claim Jesus—in a lot of “cultural Christianity” in the United States right now? It saddens me to see anger and self-justification instead. It undermines the trust of so many young people to see the church proclaiming Jesus, but then modeling bitterness, and vitriol and “what-about-me” thinking.

We cannot escape the tension in culture right now. There is a tension of ideologies because strong beliefs that are in many ways incompatible are vying for power in our political, social, and economic spheres. I am not saying we should ignore the tension, nor should we pretend it doesn’t matter what people believe. In fact, dominant ideologies deeply affect our communities and the coming future generations. They form the foundation for policies (social, economic, environmental), governmental structures (e.g., constitutional interpretation), education, and more.  Yet, even if that is true, I don’t think we need to act like the world is ending if “our” (whichever ‘our’ you choose to align with—whether conservative, progressive, or something in between) perspective is not effectively winning in the power struggle over “X” issue.  I believe we can have love and respect for people who think differently; I believe God is God, no matter what direction the culture goes; and I firmly believe that a posture of humility is what is most deeply needed in order to transform our culture.

Walking in humility means I seek to understand, listen, and care for people I don’t agree with. It means I believe both that I might be wrong in at least some of what I am thinking, and that I can learn a lot from those I disagree with. I can love people who are radically different from me without fear of losing my identity, because my identity is not in winning; it is in Jesus. Because I know that God will ultimately reign forever as the only truly good, loving, just and compassionate king, I don’t have to fear “losing.”

Our Cru group here in Davis has the tagline that we are “A caring multicultural community helping people follow Jesus.” We want to be known as people who care, and who believe that we have much to learn from one another.  Yet our firm foundation is in Jesus and the Word of God because that is where we passionately believe that peace and life and hope are found—nowhere else.

It does not minimize the strength of my faith or convictions to listen to people who disagree with them. In fact, I can even advocate for the rights of people who disagree with me—for their right to have a voice! As an attorney who works in the area of Free Speech and Religious Freedom, I believe it is best to advocate for the rights of people of all faiths. I believe our diverse communities will be better if every religious community is able to teach and practice the tenets of their faith (of course within appropriate boundaries, such as preventing criminal activity and abuse).

Some will ask: am I in danger of “compromising” when I listen and seek to understand those with views I disagree with? No! I am in much more danger of losing myself and the message of grace and hope that is at the center of the truth claims of my faith when I allow bitterness or arrogance to poison me. “Learn and Grow” is a family phrase we use to represent the attitude and humility we want to have as we approach this journey of life.  We absolutely want to do the work of grounding ourselves in truth (and God’s Word is where I want our family to be rooted), but we also know that learning and growing in our faith tradition is about much more than knowing things. It is about living in a Christlike way–walking in grace, truth, and humility.