Transitory Psychosis

I had an interesting experience at Walmart a couple of weeks ago. My wife and I stopped by there in a hurry on the way to work, a little after 6 a.m. I had something in my right eye that I couldn’t get out. We went there to find some type of eyewash in hopes of getting some relief.

After finding what we needed, we rushed to the checkout line. There was only one woman in front of us, with what appeared to be a week’s worth of groceries. I noted the cashier was obviously Muslim, complete with traditional head covering. Her accent indicated she was not a native English speaker, probably an immigrant. She was also s-l-o-w.

My impatience was growing as I scanned for another open register. The only other one open had a line much longer. So we waited. Finally, the groceries were almost all scanned and bagged. Then the cashier pointed to the remaining items and said, “I can’t touch that.” On the counter were two pounds of bacon, a tube of sausage, and a frozen sausage pizza. It dawned on me what was going on: As a Muslim she could not handle the pork.

Everyone’s frustration level was rising. My wife suggested the cashier let her scan it. She declined and went to ask another employee for help. He was not sympathetic and suggested she let the customer scan the items. Sheepishly, the cashier returned and handed the scanner to the customer. She scanned the pork and my wife helped her bag it before leaving. We paid for our items and left.

Questions filled the air as we left: Why would the manager station a woman who can’t handle pork at the register? How can she work at a place that sells pork and be faithful to her beliefs? Why didn’t she just let the customer scan the items to begin with? Doesn’t she know this is America? Why is she here if she won’t conform to our social norms?

In the midst of our frustration it hit me. While I still can’t understand the manager’s decision to put her at the register, I think I know why she is here. She needs to hear the gospel of Jesus Christ. God brought her here to meet His followers who can introduce her to the Truth.

Sadly, all she saw in me was my frustration at being late for work. I hope her next encounter with a Christ-follower is more redemptive.

In the meantime, I’ve been reminded of a lesson I thought I had already learned: Wherever I am, whatever the circumstance, I am an ambassador of Jesus Christ. That matters far more than getting to work on time.

I’m back, after a long silence in this space. My return is just in time for my annual gripe session about the songs of the season. It’s the Christmas season again and the carols are playing, and playing, and playing, and….

Don’t get me wrong, I love celebrating Christ’s birth. I love gift-giving. I love fun time with family. But I don’t love a lot of Christmas music.

I do enjoy a bit of the old standards: Joy to the World, Silent Night, O Come O Come Emmanuel, etc. I also enjoy hearing these done in a fresh way from time to time: Mannheim Steamroller has some interesting instrumental. I’ve heard Phil Keaggy do a few as well.

I even enjoy a few Christmas novelty songs, in small doses: I’m Gettin’ Nuttin’ for Christmas (heard that the other day for the first time in years), I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas (once or twice is plenty), Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer, I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, etc.

I even enjoy a few of the more contemporary secular Christmas tunes: Merry Christmas Darling (the Carpenters classic), Tender Tennessee Christmas, etc.

What I DON’T enjoy are the lame Christmas songs and the six weeks of 24-hour nothing-but-Christmas-music-radio-stations. So what are the lame songs (IMO)? Here are some that are grating on me this year.

Christmas Shoes–okay once or twice a few years ago. Enough already. Change the channel immediately.
Little Drummer Boy–drum this one right out of town, for good. Never heard a good version. Never.
Any Christmas song done by an aging rocker or pop star trying to hang on to a career.
Any re-re-re-re-re-re-recording of a Christmas “favorite”–how many versions do we need of Mary Did You Know?
If Only, the uber-lame spoken word song about the guy and the flock of birds–a good story once, not the 1000th time.
Any Christmas song with bad theology (i.e., We Three Kings–the Bible never says there were three or that they were kings.)
Any good Christmas song done poorly–the champ is O Holy Night, a good song, butchered relentlessly.

I’m anything but a Scrooge, believe me. I just grow weary of the same old songs of the season–usually by the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Come on, musicians! Give us some fresh stuff! The old story never gets old and we even like the old songs, to a degree. But I ache for some fresh tunes.

An article in the New York Times the other day got me thinking. This time of year is wonderful and frustrating–characteristics that seem true of life in general. So with the help of a few sources, I’m making a list of some of the frustrating messages I see and hear, especially this time of year. See if any of them sound familiar.

To be continued
Sold out
No longer available
Not at this address
Your email was undeliverable
Can’t take your call, leave me a message
Not in service
Register closed
This may sting/hurt a little
Your call is important to us
Can you hold?
Invalid user name/password
Assembly required
Batteries not included
Try again later
Prices subject to change
Would you like his voice mail?
Word has quit unexpectedly

Can you think of others? Probably so. The good news, of course, is that you’ll never get such messages from God. His line is never busy, he always recognizes you, and is never out of what you need. A comforting thought amid the holiday hustle and bustle.

What do you have too little of? Ask that question to people and you’re likely to get answers like money, time, sleep, or love. While I can relate on all counts, I’m convinced I have an even greater need: wisdom. I don’t think I’m alone, either.

The book of Proverbs is all about wisdom–how to get it, how to keep it, and how to use it. Interestingly, wisdom is often personified as a woman (“she”) in Proverbs. (Maybe Solomon was trying to tell us something, guys.) Proverbs is clear about the value of wisdom. I won’t take time to write out the verses, but grab a Bible and look at what gaining true wisdom (the kind God gives) will do for you.

1. Wisdom will make you happy (3:13). It will raise the level of joy and satisfaction in your life.
2. Wisdom is more valuable that riches (3:14-15). Nothing compares with it.
3. Wisdom will give you a long life (3:16a).
4. Wisdom will bring you riches and honor (3:16b). These riches are measured in more than money.
5. Wisdom results in pleasantness and peace (3:17). Sin causes turmoil. Wisdom calms the seas.
6. Wisdom gives you courage (3:21-24). That’s because the wise trust God!
7. Wisdom enables you to be victorious (21:22). To the wise, no obstacle is too great.
8. Wisdom brings deliverance (28:26). It sets us free from bondage.

For these reasons and many more, growing in wisdom should be the goal of every believer. So how do you know if you are wise? More about that later…

A newspaper editor told me once, “Words are little bombs.” He’s right. Words have the ability to set off huge explosions, devastating anyone nearby. They also have the ability to frame a discussion to the advantage of one side or the other.

Another term I see a lot these days is progressive. It’s often used in political discussions, almost always in reference to the liberal side. Lately, I’m seeing it in discussions regarding the work of the church. One side, usually the one advocating change, refers to itself as progressive. The other side is usually termed conservative, but I get the idea that some who consider themselves progressive would really like to call the others regressive.

Of course, by definition, progressive refers to that which is relating to or characterized by making progress. Certainly those who adopt that label want to think their agenda is all about moving forward. I’m finding, however, that some who call themselves progressives are not moving forward but away from. For instance, some who advocate the ordination of homosexuals are quick to call themselves progressive. In reality, they are moving away from the truth. Likewise, some American politicians who call themselves progressives are simply moving away from the bedrock values of the United States.

Personally, I’m in favor of true progress–a move forward–toward that which is truly for the betterment (both temporal and eternal) of all people. When I see such moves, I’ll be glad to stand with the progressives. But when the move is away from the truth, I’ll gladly stand with those who seek to preserve it.

In the meantime, let’s be cautious in the way we choose and use our terminologies. Especially in the church, we must be fair in not only what we say about our brethren but what our terms imply about them as well.

I read with interest an article regarding a Stanford University study on multitasking. (Read it here.) Like most people in my age bracket, I was taught early on to do one thing and complete it before moving on to the next. With the absence of cell phones, the Internet, Facebook, and a lot of other modern information streams that wasn’t too difficult–provided I had the self-discipline to turn off the radio and TV.

Fast forward a few years to the contemporary world. Today we are inundated with non-stop streams of information coming at us from all sides. The old saw about men and television is that men don’t want to know what is on TV, they want to know what else is on TV. In other words, men don’t just sit and watch one thing. They constantly click the remote to other channels (or games) to see if they are missing something that might be better. Of course, I’ve learned that men aren’t the only ones affected by that virus. Women do it too.

The problem is that as information streams multiply, the remote virus seems to spread. We seem to feel an irresistible urge to mentally “change the channel” every so often. We seem to feel a need to know what is going on in the world (Internet), in the lives of our friends (Facebook), and even in the lives of people we haven’t seen in years or wouldn’t pick up the phone to call. In fact, there is even an urge to know what is going on in the lives of people we’ve never even met (Twitter).
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As my 51st birthday approaches, the reality is setting in: I’m not the young guy anymore. (No, I didn’t just buy a mirror.) Of course, I’ve known my chronological age all along, but I’ve just been introduced to my “ministry age.”

I read an article from Leadership Weekly, the weekly e-newsletter from Leadership Journal. The article by Jimmy Long, “Determine Your Ministry Age,” points out that our assumptions about leadership reflect the values of our generation. This is especially true in a multi-generational organization like a church.

The article includes a 25-question quiz that helps the reader determine his “ministry age.” By answering the questions and adding up the numerical value of the answers you come up with a ministry age that places a person in one of three categories: Younger Leaders, Pragmatic Leaders, or Traditional Leaders. The intent is not to rate one type of leader above another but to create an ongoing dialogue among leaders regarding why we lead the way we do, how divergent values affect a leadership team, and what kind of leadership is needed to carry forward the work of the church.

Interestingly, your ministry age may be above or below your chronological age. Mine is 48. To find our yours go here. It’s fun and free.

Today, I can’t escape this sad thought: What have we done to our kids? My wife works at a local high school. Last year they had over 50 pregnant girls in the school. This week, she met a young friend of another student. The friend was very pregnant. My wife asked, “When is your baby due?” “November,” she replied. She’s 14.

It’s not that teen girls didn’t get pregnant in previous generations. But by all accounts, the numbers today are dramatic increases over those of the past. I can’t help asking, what have we (as a culture) done to our kids?

We’ve told them sex is a right that belongs to everyone, no matter the age or marital status. They believe us and they are paying the price in unwanted pregnancies and rampant STDs. It is a price that affects more than the individual. It affects us all.

We’ve told them love is a fleeting emotion that comes and goes with the surge of our hormones. They believe us and search for it in the arms of one, then another, then another, etc.

What has motivated the lies we’ve propagated? In most cases, money. Sex sells. Sales turn a profit. Children suffer, but that’s collateral damage and we aren’t responsible. So while the cash registers ring, the societal price cost goes up.

The sad truth is that we’re only beginning to see the damage. This is a debt we are going to be paying on longer than we can imagine, even if we were to stop the lies tomorrow. But we’re not stopping. We’re just turning up the volume. Maybe that’s good. It drowns out the tears of our children.

I read an article last night from the New York Times about middle school kids “coming out” as gay, lesbian, or bisexual. Not surprisingly, several cited in the article are confused about their sexual identity and are experimenting with both homosexual and heterosexual relationships. These are 11 and 12-year-olds, most of whom have not actually engaged in sexual relations of any kind. Yet, they are identifying as gay, lesbian, or bi.

Then, this morning I saw photos and commentary from European fashion shows. No, I’m not interested in fashion in the least. I am interested in how the fashion industry influences our culture’s view of beauty and body image. As I expected, the photos revealed anorexic-looking models serving as walking hangers for the designers’ latest creations. Not only were there no models of average build, there were none that even appeared to be healthy. Put them in a third world country and we’d be sending money and food to them to alleviate the famine.

All this reminds me of how difficult it is to be a young person today. Having thrown the door open to any expression of sexual activity, our society has made an often confusing time of life into a nightmare: Am I gay? Am I straight? Am I bi? How do I know? How do I deal? The reality is that pre-pubescent young people have always experienced the tension of moving from “girls/boys have cooties” to first “romance.” It is normal and natural to feel more comfortable around your same-sex friends while being drawn to more than merely tolerating the opposite sex. The problem is that we have now thrown into the mix a decision that is both unnecessary and unnatural.

At the same time, the barrage of images that define the “perfect” body comes at young people from every direction. The celebrated bodies are always far from the norm or average appearance, setting the standard of “beauty” at a level that is out of reach for all but a genetically privileged few. As a result, some young people are trying ridiculous methods of creating such a body (anorexia, steroids, etc.) or are merely sinking into depression at their inability to measure up.

These are just two issues that make being a pre-teen or teenager more difficult today than it was when I was a kid (and it was no walk in the park even then). It also makes the role of parents even more critical. We must do the hard work of courageously, firmly, and lovingly refusing to allow a corrupted culture to tell our children that wrong is right. That is not accomplished by isolation (although some restrictions on “entertainment” are appropriate), but rather by insulation–providing our kids with a protective coating of parental love, the opportunity for a real relationship with Jesus Christ, and the timeless wisdom of the Word of God. That is, in fact, what we refer to as D6 (Deuteronomy 6) parenting.

Finally, a moment to breathe. Things have been hectic of late, to say the least. In addition to the normal end of quarter busy-ness at work, the push to get everything to printing. I have squeezed in a major kitchen floor replacement at home (I didn’t do the work, but we dealt with the chaos), a 1300 mile driving trip to a funeral, and a 36-hour visit from my son. The floor is done and everything is back where it belongs, the urgent projects have gone to press, and my son left this morning. Now I have a few minutes to blog.

Don’t get me wrong, not all of the recent rush has been bad. I love my work. The funeral was a triumphant send-off for a faithful servant of God and had the side benefit of allowing me to see a number of friends and family members I don’t often get to visit with. The visit from my son was brief, but most enjoyable. I love that guy, even if I still don’t understand much about what he does for a living. Nevertheless, it has all been a bit crazy.

What’s next? Tonight we get ready to leave again. Tomorrow we’re off to Dallas, TX (Frisco, actually) for the D6 Conference–a gathering of over 1500 people who are committed to helping parents pass the baton of faith to their children. It promises to be an exciting few days. If you happen to be there, stop by and see me. I’ll be manning the 411 booth, providing information to conference attendees who have questions about what, where, and when. If you want to know more about the conference, go here.

I’ll try to update this blog from the conference, but I’m looking forward to it. After it’s over, I’ve promised myself a long nap.