Sunday, September 29, 2013
To What End?
A few days ago I read an article about some of the lesser known dangers of CrossFit. In case you are not familiar with it, CrossFit is a physical training program that is something along the lines of a boot camp for those who are really serious about fitness. Well, apparently there are people who take the training a bit too far (exactly where the blame falls is up for debate), which can result in rhabdomyolysis, a condition where your muscle breaks down, flooding your blood with muscle cells that then jam up your kidneys, leading to kidney failure and sometimes even death. All because you pushed yourself too hard.
I could so see how that could happen. I see it all the time. A little is good. More is better. Push yourself to the limit. Show that you have what it takes. I would imagine it being not all that different from any extreme sport or high risk activity. Young people, in particular, consider themselves invincible and limits are made to be pushed. Weakness is a sin. The body is to be trained and molded and beat into submission. The sky is the limit.
But to what end?
I know that being in shape is important. But fitness, like any good thing, can become a mini-god, an idol. And idols are evil taskmasters. They require total allegiance and cause you to lose sight of the goal. So, I have discovered that the little phrase, "To what end?" can give me an entire shift in perspective.
Whenever I feel enormous amounts of guilt because I see friends spending hours a day in physical training and running marathons and biking across the state and such and I feel like I am a total wimp for not joining in, I have to ask myself, "To what end?" Would doing these things enable me to better love God and my neighbor? No.
Whenever I am frustrated about my appearance and long to be young and beautiful, I have to stop and ask myself, "To what end?" Would being attractive in any way change my purpose in this life? No.
Whenever I start letting the lust of my eyes get the best of me and I begin drooling over photos of charming old houses or gleaming hardwood floors, I have to stop and ask, "To what end?" Would my quality of life really be enhanced by having such temporary goodies. Probably not.
Whenever I look at the list of real estate agents in the region and see that I am way down the list in sales production for the year and I feel bad that I don't do more business and it must mean that I suck at what I do, I have to ask myself, "To what end?" It is just a number.
And whenever somebody else writes a wonderful blog post that gets shared all over Facebook and my latest post got only 10 "likes" and I feel a mix of discouragement and envy because I want to write good things, too, I have to ask myself, "To what end?" Does that change one iota my value in God's sight? Absolutely not.
If indeed "Man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever" (Westminster Shorter Catechism), then the other things in life must take a back seat and a smaller portion of my time and attention. It isn't that fitness or beauty or success is wrong in and of itself, it is only wrong when it takes up most of your life instead of just a small piece of it.
So the next time you get wrapped around the axle about a certain pursuit, go ahead and try it. Ask yourself, "To what end?" The change in perspective does a body good.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Children of the Church
It seems that of late there are an awful lot of articles out there about the large number of young people leaving the church and everybody wants to jump on the bandwagon of why this is happening. Most people tend to blame and demonize the things they want to blame and demonize, be it Sunday School (the horrors!), youth groups that are too much fun, or wimpy and shallow worship.
I have no doubt that there are perhaps valid points to some of these ideas, but I think the problem goes much deeper than that. I think the problem has more to due with the fact that, more often than we want to believe or ever admit, the church isn't acting like Christ.
It seems that within so many churches children are written off as unwieldy Tasmanian devils, whose intents are forever evil and who just need a healthy case of discipline and a good and swift wallop on the backside, to bring them in line and mold them into fine upstanding citizens. The problem is, with the exception of the most compliant of children, every child is, at one point or another, going to act like a child, which isn't always pleasant. Growing up is a confusing and bizarre process in and of itself. Life is hard enough.
But some children, an alarmingly larger number than we ever care to consider, are going to struggle with so much more. Let's take the 1 in 4 females and 1 in 6 males who are sexually abused in some way before they are 18 (and that number is NOT smaller in the church) and add to it all the children who face an entire host of other challenges, either through nature and nurture, and you have a lot of kids who are going to struggle with life and it may not be pretty. They need a refuge. They need to be met with the compassion of Christ, not avoidance, indifference, impatience, or only exhortation.
No amount of discipline or catechism ever mended the broken heart of a child who just saw his father walk out the door or his mother beaten. Who has had to endure soul-crushing abuse of many kinds. Who has struggled but never fit in anywhere he went. Who can never live up to the performance of an older sibling or the expectations of a driven parent. Children feel pain just as adults do, only moreso, and what they experience can have a lifetime of consequences.
I know I sound so critical of the church, and I must admit that there are times I get terribly frustrated. I know we, as the body, are not perfect. We won't be in this life. But we can set aside our own agenda, our predisposition to be neat and tidy, our desire to see everyone pull themselves together and hit one for the team, and be what we are called to be, the eyes and mouths and arms and feet of Jesus.
Somewhere along the line the church got sidetracked. The tools that were used to train our kids became an end unto themselves so that value of a child was measured by his ability to sit still, or answer the right questions or memorize scripture or, better yet the catechism, or perform service projects or dress nicely or speak intelligently to the elderly . . . in essence, to be good little boys and girls.
But if you learn, as a child, that the church is for "good" people and that your behavior matters more than your pain, sure, it makes total sense to me that you are going to leave and never look back.
Somewhere along the line the church became about doing and not about being. About programs and not about relationships. About exhortation and not about Good News. About behavior and not about hearts. What children learn about church tells them a lot about God. Heaven forbid we ever give them reason to think God doesn't care.
I have no doubt that there are perhaps valid points to some of these ideas, but I think the problem goes much deeper than that. I think the problem has more to due with the fact that, more often than we want to believe or ever admit, the church isn't acting like Christ.
It seems that within so many churches children are written off as unwieldy Tasmanian devils, whose intents are forever evil and who just need a healthy case of discipline and a good and swift wallop on the backside, to bring them in line and mold them into fine upstanding citizens. The problem is, with the exception of the most compliant of children, every child is, at one point or another, going to act like a child, which isn't always pleasant. Growing up is a confusing and bizarre process in and of itself. Life is hard enough.
But some children, an alarmingly larger number than we ever care to consider, are going to struggle with so much more. Let's take the 1 in 4 females and 1 in 6 males who are sexually abused in some way before they are 18 (and that number is NOT smaller in the church) and add to it all the children who face an entire host of other challenges, either through nature and nurture, and you have a lot of kids who are going to struggle with life and it may not be pretty. They need a refuge. They need to be met with the compassion of Christ, not avoidance, indifference, impatience, or only exhortation.
No amount of discipline or catechism ever mended the broken heart of a child who just saw his father walk out the door or his mother beaten. Who has had to endure soul-crushing abuse of many kinds. Who has struggled but never fit in anywhere he went. Who can never live up to the performance of an older sibling or the expectations of a driven parent. Children feel pain just as adults do, only moreso, and what they experience can have a lifetime of consequences.
I know I sound so critical of the church, and I must admit that there are times I get terribly frustrated. I know we, as the body, are not perfect. We won't be in this life. But we can set aside our own agenda, our predisposition to be neat and tidy, our desire to see everyone pull themselves together and hit one for the team, and be what we are called to be, the eyes and mouths and arms and feet of Jesus.
Somewhere along the line the church got sidetracked. The tools that were used to train our kids became an end unto themselves so that value of a child was measured by his ability to sit still, or answer the right questions or memorize scripture or, better yet the catechism, or perform service projects or dress nicely or speak intelligently to the elderly . . . in essence, to be good little boys and girls.
But if you learn, as a child, that the church is for "good" people and that your behavior matters more than your pain, sure, it makes total sense to me that you are going to leave and never look back.
Somewhere along the line the church became about doing and not about being. About programs and not about relationships. About exhortation and not about Good News. About behavior and not about hearts. What children learn about church tells them a lot about God. Heaven forbid we ever give them reason to think God doesn't care.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Refuge?
I have been struck in the past few years that it seems that just about everything is now an "issue". It is hard to make even the smallest of talk without somebody, somewhere twisting it into some sort of a political pretzel or moral ticking time bomb. The polarization of just about everything is staggering. People believe more passionately and defend more fiercely, it seems, than ever before....or at least that I can remember (my limited recall being under 50 years).
It really is a jungle out there. And because of that, I think that people have come to expect the church to be a refuge, which it should be. The church SHOULD be a refuge for weak and weary sinners in need of grace. The church SHOULD be a refuge for the poor and the oppressed, the widow and the orphan. The church SHOULD be a refuge for the brokenhearted, the downtrodden, the Misfit Toys of this world.
But it seems like lately I am hearing more and more people express the desire that the church remain or become a refuge from anybody who thinks differently. I'm not saying anybody who BELIEVES differently, as in the basics of the gospel and orthodox Christianity and all that. I mean some seem to want the church to be a refuge from those whose faith in God plays out differently in their life. And I am just not so sure that is the role of the church.
Take politics, for example. Should the church be a refuge from those who have different political views? Should the church be the place you can run to and everybody thinks like you and debates like you and votes like you?
Should the church be a refuge from those who have a different take on social responsibility or environmental action?
Should the church be a refuge from those who have an "inferior" worship style or those who prefer a different translation of the Bible?
Should the church be a refuge from those who raise their children differently? Discipline their children differently? Educate their children differently? Even FEED their children differently?
I think we have gotten it all mixed up. Last I checked there were 10 Commandments and Jesus summed them up like this:
It is only natural that God, in all of his creativity, placed a variety of people in his church. People who are wired differently and think differently and come from different backgrounds and have different life experiences and these very well may result is a huge variation on just how people choose to put loving God and loving their neighbor into practice.
I think that the problem here is that we are mixing up preferences with principles and elevating our preferences, our personal practical applications, into some form of law in and of itself. And we not only use that law to define our faith, but we use that law to measure the faith of the person sitting next to us. And we push . . . push . . . PUSH that law onto our brothers and sisters in Christ.
So, is there anything wrong with wanting to be with like-minded folks? Not at all. Is there anything wrong with expecting everybody in your church to think and talk and look and live and love exactly like you do? Yes, I think there might be. Aside from being unrealistic, a place like that would be downright creepy in a robotic, Clone-A-Matic, Stepford Christians sort of way.
I find it fascinating that Revelation 7:9 speaks of "every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb." We are going to be spending eternity with a whole host of people who may be different from us in almost every way but one: We are washed in the blood of the Lamb.
Oh, I know that it is inevitable, while here on earth, that we are going to join together based on some common ideals and convictions and preferences, but, ultimately, those should not be the things that bind us together, because those are not the things that bind us to Christ. And he is our refuge.
It really is a jungle out there. And because of that, I think that people have come to expect the church to be a refuge, which it should be. The church SHOULD be a refuge for weak and weary sinners in need of grace. The church SHOULD be a refuge for the poor and the oppressed, the widow and the orphan. The church SHOULD be a refuge for the brokenhearted, the downtrodden, the Misfit Toys of this world.
But it seems like lately I am hearing more and more people express the desire that the church remain or become a refuge from anybody who thinks differently. I'm not saying anybody who BELIEVES differently, as in the basics of the gospel and orthodox Christianity and all that. I mean some seem to want the church to be a refuge from those whose faith in God plays out differently in their life. And I am just not so sure that is the role of the church.
Take politics, for example. Should the church be a refuge from those who have different political views? Should the church be the place you can run to and everybody thinks like you and debates like you and votes like you?
Should the church be a refuge from those who have a different take on social responsibility or environmental action?
Should the church be a refuge from those who have an "inferior" worship style or those who prefer a different translation of the Bible?
Should the church be a refuge from those who raise their children differently? Discipline their children differently? Educate their children differently? Even FEED their children differently?
I think we have gotten it all mixed up. Last I checked there were 10 Commandments and Jesus summed them up like this:
"Love The Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind." This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: "Love your neighbor as yourself." — Matthew 22:37-39
It is only natural that God, in all of his creativity, placed a variety of people in his church. People who are wired differently and think differently and come from different backgrounds and have different life experiences and these very well may result is a huge variation on just how people choose to put loving God and loving their neighbor into practice.
I think that the problem here is that we are mixing up preferences with principles and elevating our preferences, our personal practical applications, into some form of law in and of itself. And we not only use that law to define our faith, but we use that law to measure the faith of the person sitting next to us. And we push . . . push . . . PUSH that law onto our brothers and sisters in Christ.
So, is there anything wrong with wanting to be with like-minded folks? Not at all. Is there anything wrong with expecting everybody in your church to think and talk and look and live and love exactly like you do? Yes, I think there might be. Aside from being unrealistic, a place like that would be downright creepy in a robotic, Clone-A-Matic, Stepford Christians sort of way.
I find it fascinating that Revelation 7:9 speaks of "every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb." We are going to be spending eternity with a whole host of people who may be different from us in almost every way but one: We are washed in the blood of the Lamb.
Oh, I know that it is inevitable, while here on earth, that we are going to join together based on some common ideals and convictions and preferences, but, ultimately, those should not be the things that bind us together, because those are not the things that bind us to Christ. And he is our refuge.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
My Answer to the Modesty Mafia
Almost a month ago I got my panties in a wad over all these modesty posts and sat down and cranked out my own thoughts, but never posted them. I knew that I would receive a lot of pushback and, at the time, there were so many other things going on in my life that I just wasn't up to the task. But the wheels have been turning.
Then, last night, my friend, Rebecca, posted her own thoughts, which sparked my thinking again. You can read it here. I really appreciate the idea of not thinking so much about yourself, period. And that is part of the problem with this Modesty Crusade. One of many problems.
Most modesty articles are pretty much the same. Shock and horror at the immodest dress of teenage girls and even more shock and horror at her parents for letting her out the door dressed in so very little. "Where are her parents?" these people rage. The assumption seems to be that either her parents are asleep at the wheel or complete tramps themselves. Well, I can guarantee that this is not always the case, because I am one of those parents.
Part of the modesty problem is that there is no set-in-stone rule out there for where modesty stops and too much skin starts. But when you start defining modesty by inches of skirt or exposure of shoulder, then you start down a road that can, at the very least, SEEM rather legalistic.
Then there is the practical aspect. My youngest daughter (Daughter #3) works with horses and in the summer she gets beastly hot. The less she has on her body, the better, in her mind. Imposing a specific standard of modesty might not only seem silly and legalistic to her, it can be downright uncomfortable.
Before people jump all over me about this, let me state that I know . . . I KNOW the arguments for modesty. And I am not in disagreement with them. I have also, in the past, added my own concerns, including the need for safety, to these reasons as I have talked to my daughters. But knowing this and even teaching this are very different from enforcing it. And one has to ask at what point and at what age should a parent even attempt to enforce it?
If you have never had teenage daughters or if you have had them but they were super compliant (Daughter #2, for a time) or totally disinterested in fashion and fitting in (Daughter #1), you may not understand just how hard this is for parents. But if you look around at the girls at church and huff and puff about their state of dress or, quite possibly, undress, then I challenge you to take a teenage girl shopping.
Go right ahead, waltz in to Target with a hormonally challenged, star crossed adolescent female who wants nothing more to fit in and try, just try, to find her a dress that fits that arbitrary definition of "modest." Better yet, I challenge you to do so without at least one of you bursting into tears and with your relationship still intact when you walk out the door. It is just plain hard. I know how young women dress is important. But even that does not define them.
Teenage girls, especially, are living through a hormonal hell while trying to find their own identity, outside of their parents. They long to belong. Life is very fragile. We parents know that. Some of us may opt to handle with care and pick our fights.
I am perfectly aware that there are some people that may look at the length of my daughter's dress and, from that, make a full-on judgment about my success as a parent. You know what? I don't care. There comes a point that I have to leave certain issues up to God. And the very last thing I want is an outward compliance without a change in the heart. The last thing I want is for my daughter to believe that she is only acceptable to God if she is wearing the right clothing.
When I was a kid the most awful thing I could hear from my mother was "I'm so ashamed" when it came to something I did or something I was. I refuse to be ashamed of my children. Any of them. For any decision they may make. I may not agree with it or condone it but I refuse to be ashamed. I refuse to be ashamed of my daughter for what she may wear. Sure, I have taught and explained and encouraged, but at some point she has to make the decision herself. Compliance to my standards just to keep me off her back isn't going to be sustainable in the long run. At some point, these convictions have to be between her and God.
People are more than clothing, be it how much or how little that they have on. Modest in other contexts usually means meeting needs without all the extras. When I sell a modest house to my clients, it is one that provides shelter and the comforts of home without all the glitz, without calling attention to itself, and without breaking the bank. If we translated that to clothing, I could say that there is plenty of clothing out there that covers plenty of skin, but is not modest at all. And vice versa.
So the next time you see a young woman whose short shorts are short on material and whose tank top has too much tank and not enough top, don't assume that, in some way, she is the enemy, a tramp to be scorned for her choices. Look beneath the little clothing she may have on and see what she is, a young woman created in the image of God. And don't assume that her parents are unaware. They may be like me, stepping back and letting her work it out with God for herself.
Then, last night, my friend, Rebecca, posted her own thoughts, which sparked my thinking again. You can read it here. I really appreciate the idea of not thinking so much about yourself, period. And that is part of the problem with this Modesty Crusade. One of many problems.
Most modesty articles are pretty much the same. Shock and horror at the immodest dress of teenage girls and even more shock and horror at her parents for letting her out the door dressed in so very little. "Where are her parents?" these people rage. The assumption seems to be that either her parents are asleep at the wheel or complete tramps themselves. Well, I can guarantee that this is not always the case, because I am one of those parents.
Part of the modesty problem is that there is no set-in-stone rule out there for where modesty stops and too much skin starts. But when you start defining modesty by inches of skirt or exposure of shoulder, then you start down a road that can, at the very least, SEEM rather legalistic.
Then there is the practical aspect. My youngest daughter (Daughter #3) works with horses and in the summer she gets beastly hot. The less she has on her body, the better, in her mind. Imposing a specific standard of modesty might not only seem silly and legalistic to her, it can be downright uncomfortable.
Before people jump all over me about this, let me state that I know . . . I KNOW the arguments for modesty. And I am not in disagreement with them. I have also, in the past, added my own concerns, including the need for safety, to these reasons as I have talked to my daughters. But knowing this and even teaching this are very different from enforcing it. And one has to ask at what point and at what age should a parent even attempt to enforce it?
If you have never had teenage daughters or if you have had them but they were super compliant (Daughter #2, for a time) or totally disinterested in fashion and fitting in (Daughter #1), you may not understand just how hard this is for parents. But if you look around at the girls at church and huff and puff about their state of dress or, quite possibly, undress, then I challenge you to take a teenage girl shopping.
Go right ahead, waltz in to Target with a hormonally challenged, star crossed adolescent female who wants nothing more to fit in and try, just try, to find her a dress that fits that arbitrary definition of "modest." Better yet, I challenge you to do so without at least one of you bursting into tears and with your relationship still intact when you walk out the door. It is just plain hard. I know how young women dress is important. But even that does not define them.
Teenage girls, especially, are living through a hormonal hell while trying to find their own identity, outside of their parents. They long to belong. Life is very fragile. We parents know that. Some of us may opt to handle with care and pick our fights.
I am perfectly aware that there are some people that may look at the length of my daughter's dress and, from that, make a full-on judgment about my success as a parent. You know what? I don't care. There comes a point that I have to leave certain issues up to God. And the very last thing I want is an outward compliance without a change in the heart. The last thing I want is for my daughter to believe that she is only acceptable to God if she is wearing the right clothing.
When I was a kid the most awful thing I could hear from my mother was "I'm so ashamed" when it came to something I did or something I was. I refuse to be ashamed of my children. Any of them. For any decision they may make. I may not agree with it or condone it but I refuse to be ashamed. I refuse to be ashamed of my daughter for what she may wear. Sure, I have taught and explained and encouraged, but at some point she has to make the decision herself. Compliance to my standards just to keep me off her back isn't going to be sustainable in the long run. At some point, these convictions have to be between her and God.
People are more than clothing, be it how much or how little that they have on. Modest in other contexts usually means meeting needs without all the extras. When I sell a modest house to my clients, it is one that provides shelter and the comforts of home without all the glitz, without calling attention to itself, and without breaking the bank. If we translated that to clothing, I could say that there is plenty of clothing out there that covers plenty of skin, but is not modest at all. And vice versa.
So the next time you see a young woman whose short shorts are short on material and whose tank top has too much tank and not enough top, don't assume that, in some way, she is the enemy, a tramp to be scorned for her choices. Look beneath the little clothing she may have on and see what she is, a young woman created in the image of God. And don't assume that her parents are unaware. They may be like me, stepping back and letting her work it out with God for herself.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Food For Thought
I have railed on and on about the amount of emphasis these days on food. I spend quite a bit of time . . . a lot of time . . . OK, too much time, on Facebook and there are days when posts seem to be about nothing but food. Food appears to be getting, among the general population, almost as much airplay as sex, and among my friends, much much more.
It cracks me up, really, how broad the spectrum is when it comes to food sensibilities. I see posts encouraging me to eat vegan or paleo or all organic or via the teachings of Weston A. Price. I hear rants about GMOs and am fed (pun intended) an endless supply of articles on just how toxic my food supply really is and that, at some point and likely when I least expect it, my insides will rupture and my nose will turn green (they don't actually say that, but one day they might).
I am told that I need to be eating more butter or coconut oil or certain berries, most which I can neither pronounce nor spell. I am to avoid dairy . . . no, eat dairy . . . so long as it is straight from the cow. I am to avoid gluten and sugar and potatoes and corn and rice, unless it is brown, and then only in small quantities due to arsenic and carbs. I am not supposed to have anything processed, which means I am to work my patootie off making all my food from scratch. I can't make a comment about a headache or an allergy without somebody having the ideal diet solution.
On the other hand, everywhere I turn I see photos of food. And not just basic foods, straight from the earth, those ones they say I am to eat. I see photos of cooked dishes that usually include cool whip and mayo and bags of hash-browned potatoes. It is like an endless church potluck parading itself across my Facebook page.
I really get so tired of it all. I get tired of people telling me what I should and shouldn't eat. I get tired of being preached at and reminded over and over again that if I don't eat X, then Y will happen or if I do eat A, then B is sure to befall me, ruin my life, and bring shame on my family.
I remember being a teenager and longing for the day that I could just eat what I wanted to eat and when I was hungry and not eat when I didn't feel like it. For somebody with a food and weight obsession, that sort of freedom was absolutely unheard of. The truth is, I don't want to think about food. I spent way too many years thinking about nothing BUT food. I know what it is like to be enslaved by an obsession with what I put in my mouth. But for years I have enjoyed freedom and I don't ever want to go back.
So excuse me if I do not jump on your nutritional bandwagon or take part in your food porn. I have more important things to do with my time and my mental and emotional energy, not to mention my dollars. It isn't that I am ignorant or uninformed, it is that I have chosen that food would have a much smaller place in my life so that the more important things have room to grow.
It cracks me up, really, how broad the spectrum is when it comes to food sensibilities. I see posts encouraging me to eat vegan or paleo or all organic or via the teachings of Weston A. Price. I hear rants about GMOs and am fed (pun intended) an endless supply of articles on just how toxic my food supply really is and that, at some point and likely when I least expect it, my insides will rupture and my nose will turn green (they don't actually say that, but one day they might).
I am told that I need to be eating more butter or coconut oil or certain berries, most which I can neither pronounce nor spell. I am to avoid dairy . . . no, eat dairy . . . so long as it is straight from the cow. I am to avoid gluten and sugar and potatoes and corn and rice, unless it is brown, and then only in small quantities due to arsenic and carbs. I am not supposed to have anything processed, which means I am to work my patootie off making all my food from scratch. I can't make a comment about a headache or an allergy without somebody having the ideal diet solution.
On the other hand, everywhere I turn I see photos of food. And not just basic foods, straight from the earth, those ones they say I am to eat. I see photos of cooked dishes that usually include cool whip and mayo and bags of hash-browned potatoes. It is like an endless church potluck parading itself across my Facebook page.
I really get so tired of it all. I get tired of people telling me what I should and shouldn't eat. I get tired of being preached at and reminded over and over again that if I don't eat X, then Y will happen or if I do eat A, then B is sure to befall me, ruin my life, and bring shame on my family.
I remember being a teenager and longing for the day that I could just eat what I wanted to eat and when I was hungry and not eat when I didn't feel like it. For somebody with a food and weight obsession, that sort of freedom was absolutely unheard of. The truth is, I don't want to think about food. I spent way too many years thinking about nothing BUT food. I know what it is like to be enslaved by an obsession with what I put in my mouth. But for years I have enjoyed freedom and I don't ever want to go back.
So excuse me if I do not jump on your nutritional bandwagon or take part in your food porn. I have more important things to do with my time and my mental and emotional energy, not to mention my dollars. It isn't that I am ignorant or uninformed, it is that I have chosen that food would have a much smaller place in my life so that the more important things have room to grow.
Miley Musings
I think we are just plain schizo. Really. A few nights ago cute little Hannah Montana rocked the country, and maybe the world, with her trashy romp on stage with Robin Thicke at MTV's Video Music Awards ceremony.
No, I didn't watch the video, but I saw plenty of photos. Sure, it was inappropriate. Sure, it was sleazy. Sure, it was outside the boundaries that even the vast majority of our hypersexualized culture deems acceptable behavior. But so far, it seems to be Miley that is getting all the pushback, all the criticism, and all the shame.
Miley Cyrus is 20 years old. Not old enough to buy alcohol in her own country, not old enough to even rent a car. It could be another 5 years before her prefrontal cortex, that part of the brain that makes judgment calls and perceives possible consequences to actions, is even fully developed. In many ways, she really is still a kid, albeit a rather sophisticated one.
I am in no way saying that she should not be held accountable for her actions. Yes, she should know better. But what I am saying is that she did not act in a vacuum. The photos I saw show her on stage with a man. A man, not a boy. A man who is 36 years-old and MARRIED. Now HE should know better.
Somebody choreographed those moves. Somebody directed that show. There are likely hundreds of somebodies out there who are also partially responsible for that performance and, more than likely, all of them are older and should be wiser and more mature than Miley herself.
What do we expect in a world where sex rules and sex sells? Where little girls' bathing suits can come with push-up bras and young women can expect a boob job to be the ultimate present for high school graduation? Where the majority of songs and television shows and movies paint a hook-up culture as the norm? Where I cannot even find a dress at Target for my teenage daughter that will cover more than half her thigh (another blog post altogether)?
I couldn't help but notice how Miley actually, in her teeny, weeny nude colored bikini or bra-and-panties get-up (same difference) strangely resembled a naked, plastic baby doll, an object that is often cast off and thrown away, and wondered if that was by accident at all.
Why are we so shocked when a girl who has grown up as the center of attention, who never had anything resembling a normal childhood, who will never be able to handle the pressure and expectations our culture puts on her . . . why are we so shocked when she crosses the line of human decency? And why do we lay the blame so heavily on her narrow shoulders?
A few years ago my daughter suffered from abdominal pain and nausea. She had a low grade fever. She was definitely not herself. Sure, she complained of the symptoms, but they were not her problem. Her appendix was. No masking the pain would have remedied the situation. In fact, doing so would have eventually killed her. The symptoms were a sign that something deeper and more serious was at hand.
My heart breaks for Miley and it breaks for all the young women who have believed all the sick, sick lies that our culture throws at them. Miley isn't the problem. Miley is the symptom of a much deeper, more pervasive problem. A problem that treats sex as king and young women as objects.
I think it is time to fight back. And maybe, if we reach out to her with compassion and concern instead of disgust and horror . . . maybe one day Miley will join us.
No, I didn't watch the video, but I saw plenty of photos. Sure, it was inappropriate. Sure, it was sleazy. Sure, it was outside the boundaries that even the vast majority of our hypersexualized culture deems acceptable behavior. But so far, it seems to be Miley that is getting all the pushback, all the criticism, and all the shame.
Miley Cyrus is 20 years old. Not old enough to buy alcohol in her own country, not old enough to even rent a car. It could be another 5 years before her prefrontal cortex, that part of the brain that makes judgment calls and perceives possible consequences to actions, is even fully developed. In many ways, she really is still a kid, albeit a rather sophisticated one.
I am in no way saying that she should not be held accountable for her actions. Yes, she should know better. But what I am saying is that she did not act in a vacuum. The photos I saw show her on stage with a man. A man, not a boy. A man who is 36 years-old and MARRIED. Now HE should know better.
Somebody choreographed those moves. Somebody directed that show. There are likely hundreds of somebodies out there who are also partially responsible for that performance and, more than likely, all of them are older and should be wiser and more mature than Miley herself.
What do we expect in a world where sex rules and sex sells? Where little girls' bathing suits can come with push-up bras and young women can expect a boob job to be the ultimate present for high school graduation? Where the majority of songs and television shows and movies paint a hook-up culture as the norm? Where I cannot even find a dress at Target for my teenage daughter that will cover more than half her thigh (another blog post altogether)?
I couldn't help but notice how Miley actually, in her teeny, weeny nude colored bikini or bra-and-panties get-up (same difference) strangely resembled a naked, plastic baby doll, an object that is often cast off and thrown away, and wondered if that was by accident at all.
Why are we so shocked when a girl who has grown up as the center of attention, who never had anything resembling a normal childhood, who will never be able to handle the pressure and expectations our culture puts on her . . . why are we so shocked when she crosses the line of human decency? And why do we lay the blame so heavily on her narrow shoulders?
A few years ago my daughter suffered from abdominal pain and nausea. She had a low grade fever. She was definitely not herself. Sure, she complained of the symptoms, but they were not her problem. Her appendix was. No masking the pain would have remedied the situation. In fact, doing so would have eventually killed her. The symptoms were a sign that something deeper and more serious was at hand.
My heart breaks for Miley and it breaks for all the young women who have believed all the sick, sick lies that our culture throws at them. Miley isn't the problem. Miley is the symptom of a much deeper, more pervasive problem. A problem that treats sex as king and young women as objects.
I think it is time to fight back. And maybe, if we reach out to her with compassion and concern instead of disgust and horror . . . maybe one day Miley will join us.
Monday, August 5, 2013
No Defense
Recently, I read about the idea that you cannot assess the character of someone while you are in the process of defending them. This has got me thinking about defensiveness overall and how it affects us.
Several years ago I took the Sonship Training Course and in it was an exercise where you were supposed to try to go one week without defending yourself. Being the lax student that I am, I didn't even attempt to go there. In fact, I wasn't even sure that it was a worthy goal. I didn't quite get what defensiveness had to do with it. I had a lot to learn.
Fast forward 20 years and I am starting to get it. Defensiveness short circuits the learning process. It balks at self-assessment. It can be indicative of a heart that is not teachable. It loses sight of the gospel.
So what am I to do when faced with an accusation that attacks my actions or my character?
Rather than defending myself I can stop and ask if there is any truth in what was said. This can be horribly painful, but it is necessary. If indeed, the accusation is wholly untrue, then I can explain myself, if necessary, and move on with a clear conscience before both God and man. How the accuser responds is between them and God.
I think most people defend themselves because the accusation is seen as an attack on their character and nobody wants to have their flaws, failures, and sins served up on a platter. But this is where the grace of God comes in. The very essence of sanctification, of growing to be more like Christ, involves humbling ourselves before God as He exposes and transforms every nook and cranny of our lives.
So, in effect, an accusation that might have even a small element of truth in it, is a wonderful opportunity to learn and grow and praise God for His faithfulness to me and His grace that covers all my sins. For the sake of my relationship with God and with my neighbor, I need to have an open and teachable heart that knows the grace of God is the best defense.
Several years ago I took the Sonship Training Course and in it was an exercise where you were supposed to try to go one week without defending yourself. Being the lax student that I am, I didn't even attempt to go there. In fact, I wasn't even sure that it was a worthy goal. I didn't quite get what defensiveness had to do with it. I had a lot to learn.
Fast forward 20 years and I am starting to get it. Defensiveness short circuits the learning process. It balks at self-assessment. It can be indicative of a heart that is not teachable. It loses sight of the gospel.
So what am I to do when faced with an accusation that attacks my actions or my character?
Rather than defending myself I can stop and ask if there is any truth in what was said. This can be horribly painful, but it is necessary. If indeed, the accusation is wholly untrue, then I can explain myself, if necessary, and move on with a clear conscience before both God and man. How the accuser responds is between them and God.
I think most people defend themselves because the accusation is seen as an attack on their character and nobody wants to have their flaws, failures, and sins served up on a platter. But this is where the grace of God comes in. The very essence of sanctification, of growing to be more like Christ, involves humbling ourselves before God as He exposes and transforms every nook and cranny of our lives.
So, in effect, an accusation that might have even a small element of truth in it, is a wonderful opportunity to learn and grow and praise God for His faithfulness to me and His grace that covers all my sins. For the sake of my relationship with God and with my neighbor, I need to have an open and teachable heart that knows the grace of God is the best defense.
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