Advent: A Christian Response to Mass Murder

In my tradition we call this pre-Christmas time, ‘Advent.’  It comes from the Latin word for ‘arrival.’  That is to say for the four weeks before Christmas we ready ourselves for the arrival of Jesus on Christmas morning.  However, the word Advent is a double-entendre.  You see, the baby Jesus has already come and gone, but he did promise to return to us.  So… the season of Advent is the time we sit in the tension of remembering the birth of our Lord and preparing for his second arrival. 

The Advent wreath is a staple of the Advent season.  It has three purple candles, a pink candle, and a white one in the middle.  Sort of like Chanukah, each Sunday during Advent we say a prayer and light a candle (and on Christmas Eve we light the middle one).  The Advent wreath not only acts like a calendar, counting down the weeks until Christmas, but it is a contemplative tool, reminding us what Jesus’ return means for the world.  Furthermore, in the midst of this reminder, we as the church, the incarnation of Jesus, the hands of feet of Jesus on earth, the gathering of people who show the world who God is, what God is like and where God exists, are called, each week, to embody a different element of what Jesus’ arrival means to the world.  For the first week, we light a candle in the name of hope, the second, peace.  And yesterday we lit a candle in the name of joy.  Next Sunday we light one in the name of love.

As I have grieved the massacre of last Friday’s tragedy in Connecticut and listened to the sounds of the culture, arguing about gun control, who to blame, and the rest, I believe that we mustn’t forget our responsibility in this time of Advent.

This is not the end of the world...

What I mean to say is, when tragedy strikes at this magnitude, it’s easy to believe that the narrative has somehow changed; that the times we live in are worse than ever.  That with the onslaught of stories coming out about mass murder, earthquakes, drought, war, famine, and the Mayan calendar (more on that later), that somehow we have hit rock bottom.  Because our narrative of safety and security has been rocked and disillusioned we somehow have to take up arms, fear our neighbors, bunker down and start thinking about ourselves.  Or that, now more than ever, we need to get rid of all the guns. 

It’s easy to believe that somehow this tension we feel, this realization that we have no control, means our idealisms about trust, expecting goodness in everyone and being a good neighbor to all, are a fantasy and we need to take immediate action to secure and protect ourselves. 

What happened last Friday was a distraction.  Yes, we grieve.  Yes, we stop and pray.  Yes, we dialogue about it.  But even in the midst of tragedy, the story stays the same: God is in charge and is making all things new. 

So I urge my fellow Christians, go back to your posture of Advent.  You may need to continue to grieve and dialogue, I know I will.  But remember that your first responsibility to the world this time of year is to embody hope, peace, joy and love.  Even as the volume of fear and anxiety get turned up to its loudest volume, we must endure with our mission.  We must continue to spread our message to the world that there is something to hope for.  We must demonstrate that things are in fact getting better.  We must be the people that make peace in all of our circles and find that tiny speck of joy amidst so much anguish.  And above all love our neighbor, our enemies, and those who's opinions make our blood boil.

Do you believe that God is working to make the creation whole again?  Do you believe that it’s getting better?  Do you believe that God is in charge?  Do you believe that hope, peace, joy and love are growing and growing like a mighty oak tree bursting its way through the pavement? 

Do you?

Then prove it.

Shalom.

A Call To End Your Church Baggage

I think I know how doctors feel… well sort of.  You know how when someone in a group meets a doctor, someone (usually me) blurts out some question seeking free unsolicited medical advice.  I have found that when I tell people I work for a church I usually end up with a lap full of unsolicited church baggage. 

Now my purpose in writing this isn’t to invoke sympathy.  It’s actually quite interesting to hear the very personal yet very common story about how God, Jesus and the church was terrible to you.  However, what does bother me is the caricature of the church I find myself defending in these conversations.  I often want to stop the conversation and say, do you really think we are all a bunch of delusional fundamentalists who hate women, the gays, and science.  Are we still going with the narrative that says the church is only interested in condemning people to hell if they don’t adhere to a strict moral code?

This is what evangelism has become for me.  Instead of spreading the ‘good news.’  I find myself at social gatherings answering the same series of questions about what I/the church think(s) about homo-sex, drinking, and hetero-sex.  What disappoints me is that I rarely get to share why I’m passionate about the Gospel and the church.

So here is my question: Is the overarching consensus about the church really that bad or has everyone just gotten too lazy to see the forest for the trees? 

It feels like every time there is a situation like Chic-Fil-A Day it only adds fuel to the superficial anti-church fires.  Come on, we are a brilliant generation of people, clearly you can see Chic-Fil-A Day was a political stunt and had nothing to do with the bible or church doctrine (if a man lies with another man, thou shalt eat chicken?  Come on).

My point:  If I were a nurse or a school teacher, no one would ask me to apologize for their childhood experience of going to school or the doctor.  Jesus nags this culture.  Why else, would people so voluntarily tell a stranger such personal information?  (It’s not uncommon for a stranger to cry in front of me about the subject)

For many in my context of the American South, I believe that Christianity is a dormant part of their identity that eats away at their soul.  I wonder if Jesus hovers around reminding people that there is life outside of this ridiculous rat race of hollow achievement and insatiable consumerism.    However, I believe people are mad (and people like me are left to apologize for it) because they believe the institutional church stands in the way; It’s too corrupt, too rigid, too anti-intellectual.

But you have to be smarter than that… right?  Every institution fails, every human has flaws, every person disappoints.  So why can’t the church?  Why can’t we simply discern that the church is the road that leads to the divine and not the divine itself.  Who told you the church was anything different, that you are left with this unrelenting disappointment?  Why can’t your own experience of your own shortcomings offer a perspective that understands this?   

So to everyone, my challenge to you is this: make a choice.  This way of ambivalence and bitterness will not lead you to wholeness.  Yes, the church in modern America has baggage.  But to everyone in their twenties and thirties, I write this to invite you to consider beginning a dialogue about how we are actually going to heal our planet and restore our humanity.  You know, something beyond good ideas, bumper stickers and conscious consumerism.  The church’s mission is to join God in healing the broken creation by living and loving as Jesus did.  You may not agree with a particular parish’s interpretation of that message but, I’m certain continuing to deconstruct the church won’t get any of us any closer to wholeness!  So either join the church or call a truce with Jesus because these conversations are a distraction!  

What Nolan's Batman Movies and Jesus Have Taught Me About How To Respond To The Terrorist Attacks in Denver

First let me apologize if you find this opportunistic or inappropriate and forgive me for adding to the noise…

This morning I took a dozen of my youth to see the Dark Knight Rises, but not before I was awoken by a phone call from a concerned parent.  She asked if I was still planning on taking the youth to see the film in light of the terrorist attack this morning in Denver.  I think she ultimately called me to think outloud, so I quietly ‘uh-hu-ed’ along as she pontificated that it’s probably safe because we were going to a morning viewing.  Safe.

I was thoroughly entertained and satisfied by the film except for the scene where the antagonist, Bane, holds the Gotham Stock Exchange Hostage.  In this scene, him and his henchmen murder about a thirty people in cold blood.  With the events of last night swirling around in my brain, I found it disturbing and terrifying.  I caught myself looking around the theatre a few times both imagining what it must have been like for those souls in Colorado and feeling for my own sake afraid and unsafe.  Safe.

Who promised us this safety: that every time a tragedy shatters our feelings of security we demand answers?  Why do we think that watching 24-hour news cycles and finding out what kind of parents the killer had will put the pieces back together?  Why is it so important that things go back to normal?

Wake up my friends.

Evil exists in this world.  And if we learned anything from Nolan’s last Batman movie it’s that some people ‘just like to watch the world burn.’  Sometimes bad things happen and there is no rhyme or reason, no plot or motive, no way to prevent it from happening, no way to promise it won’t happen again, it just simply exists.  But this is the way it is for most people in this world.  Whether its people dying and being mutilated by war lords and militias or epidemic diseases without cures or hurricanes or tornadoes or psychopaths or alcoholism or pedophilia or drought or starvation… Evil exists in this world.  And as long as there are varying levels of hate, greed, jealousy, inequality, prejudice, pollution, exploitation, bitterness, lust, disease, and sloth, it is here to stay.

Some people get the benefit of going longer periods of time being ignorant to evil’s presence but sooner or later a tragedy will strike and it will find you.  But the damned thing is, somebody in this modern world promised us safety.  They told us suffering is bad and the quicker we can alleviate the discomfort the better.  And so when tragedy strikes we look at the talking heads like some kind of crew on sinking ship directing us to the lifeboats.  Perhaps, we tweet about demanding better gun laws or we tell everyone to carry their own guns so that when it comes we can be ready.

But deep down we all know that the truth is, no amount of government, wealth or artillery will protect you from tragedy, suffering, and our inevitable deaths.  The one thing that we all have in common is our suffering and its aim is to teach us compassion and tolerance.  You cannot fix suffering, you can only run from it or turn and face it, embrace it and begin the process of grieving, which is the way we heal.

Please stop watching television.  Please stop demanding answers.  Please stop trying to go back to the way things were.  We have become a society of numb and lonely people.  We complain about being enslaved by Facebook, our smart phones, and our individualized busyness.  We complain that our kids are too addicted to video games and have become increasingly desensitized to violence.  So why do we want things to go back to ‘normal?’  Why is this uneasiness we feel so bad and our feeling of apathetic numbness so good (or maybe it’s a blinding stress and busyness)?    

Sure, to be aware of the world’s suffering is full of tension and causes us to reevaluate our values and our priorities.  But I believe, as I watched people be murdered on screen today, this morning’s events put me back in touch with reality: Violence is evil.  I should be uncomfortable with it.  This doesn’t mean that there is some silver lining to the terrorism, that it was good that it happened because now we can all appreciate what we have, blah blah blah, etc etc etc.  No, this morning’s event was senseless and unexplainable. 

However, what we are today is conscious.  So the question I wish to pose is: How are you going to respond?  Are you hoping that something else will come along and trick you into believing you are safe again?  Are you going to choose despair or apathy and hopefully time will lull you back into your ignorant and idle bliss?  Or are you going to use this as a time to be present to the suffering in this world?  Will you choose to suffer with everyone you know and those you can imagine, learn more deeply the story of the human condition, discover the ways you are perpetuating the cycles of evil in this world, repent, forgive, forgive everyone because they are just like you and be more charitable to your fellow human?

WE CANNOT CONTROL EVIL.  The only thing we CAN control is whether or not we choose to participate in perpetuating it.

Grieve well my friends.

Pray.  God is near.

Shalom.  

The Weakness of Superman

A few weeks ago I blogged about some thoughts I had about Superman (The Paradox of Superman)... The blog turned into fodder for my sermon that preached based on 2 Corinthians 12:2-10 yesterday.

Here is the audio as well as the manuscript I was preaching from.  

(They are different because I didn't bring my manuscript up to the pulpit because I'm a terrible reader) 

Audio:

Manuscript: 

In case you don’t know me too well, I’m a bit of a comic book nerd.  I have several comic book toys in my office and my most beloved toy is my Superman toy from the Kingdom Come series.  It was a gift from my dear friend and mentor Dixon Kinser.

More than reading comic books, I love the debate of comic books, the dialogue, the arguments that come out of them: DC vs. Marvel, who is the best X-men character, who is your favorite Avenger... and the most classic of all comic book arguments, Superman vs. Batman.  Now to be fair, I totally understand why people love Batman, he’s dark, conflicted, damaged and sexy.  And I think we like connecting with a hero we can identify with.  I mean, Superman is an alien from the planet Krypton.  He’s faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, he can fly, his morals seem impenetrable.

However, the reason I feel compelled to love Superman is in the difference between the alter egos:  Batman is Bruce Wayne, Superman is Clark Kent.  Now when Bruce Wayne wants to become a superhero he puts on a costume and becomes the Batman.  On the other hand, Clark Kent is actually Superman.  The cape he wears is the blanket he was wrapped in when he was sent to earth.  His costume is Clark Kent.  What’s even more interesting is the kind of human that Superman is: he’s frail, shy, and unsure of himself.  Clark Kent is weak.  Many have argued that Clark Kent is this way because that is how Superman sees humans.  Superman sees us as weak.  But here’s the thing that ultimately gets me, even though we are weak Superman still feels compelled to save us. 

In Matthew chapter 5, we read Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.  He begins the sermon with what we call the beatitudes:

Blessed are the meek

Blessed are the poor in spirit

Blessed are the peacemakers

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness

Blessed are those who grieve

It is these people, Jesus says, will inherit the earth and will reign in the Kingdom of God.  Jesus looks upon the weak and desperate and says this is what my Kingdom is founded upon.  Why?  Why if you were going to build a kingdom would you build your foundation on the weakest members of society?

It’s because the kingdom of God is different kind of kingdom.  For thousands of years the Egyptian, Roman, Babylonian, Chinese, English, and even our own American empires, rose and fell on war, wealth and power. But the Kingdom that Jesus is building is a entirely different kind of empire.  Instead of accumulating and destroying it is about setting to right the brokenness of creation.  The kingdom of God is an empire of our togetherness.  All the ways, in which we work to separate ourselves and hurt one another, Jesus is working to heal.  It is the thesis of our daily prayer: your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

And I have always looked at the beatitudes as if Jesus is talking about ‘those people,’ those that are meek, poor, and hungry.  But I think it is better read the way Eugene Peterson translates it: blessed are you when you are meek, poor, and hungry.  The beatitudes are an invitation to embrace our weakness.  If you have ever grieved you know this is the only way to heal.  When we choose to be meek we no longer continue the escalation of violence.  When we hunger and thirst for righteousness we clearly identity what is unjust.  When we are poor we begin to trust God’s provision and see that there is plenty to go around.  Embracing our weakness is the only way for heaven to become one with earth.

Fast forward a couple of decades and we see an exasperated Paul desperately trying to keep his church together.  You see Corinth was a deeply Greek culture, a place where philosophy and knowledge reigns supreme.  Teachers were held to the highest of pedestals.  People in Corinth aspired to be great teachers, however, if they couldn’t cut it as a teacher, they at least wanted to follow a great teacher or for lack of better term, be a disciple of a great teacher.  Following a great teacher was your identity, it gave you status and authority.  But it wasn’t enough that you followed a good teacher; you had to follow the best teacher.  Therefore it was your job to stifle other groups, to discredit them and to destroy their credibility.  So when Paul established the church in Corinth, it didn’t take long for this value to make it’s way into the church.  In 1 Corinthians we read about people already beginning to follow other leaders like Apollos, who are claiming to have secret knowledge about Jesus, special divine experiences and are splintering the church. So what we find in Paul’s second letter to the church in Corinth is responses to people asking Paul to give them something to tell others about how great it is to follow Paul.  

And Paul, who I believe is the guy he is talking about going to the third realm of heaven (whatever that means), says, ‘I have indeed experienced God in a very profound way but I don’t come back with this experience with anything to boast about.  Instead I am more than ever profoundly aware of my thorn in my flesh.’  You see the closer to God Paul found himself, the more aware of his weakness he became.

I find myself often times uttering phrases like, ‘I wish people would just respect me,’ or ‘I want to be a great leader.’  But when it comes time to do the work of dealing with my foolishness or my shortcomings, I would rather keep showing off my strengths.  And I don’t think I’m at all alone in this.  We live in a culture that hides our weaknesses and celebrates our strengths.  Get on Facebook for just a couple of minutes.  What you have is a constant stream of boasting.  Look how awesome this meal I made was.  Look how awesome my new job is.  Look how awesome my vacation was.  Look how awesome I am.  But if you have ever got on Facebook with any amount of loneliness or insecurity, you know all of this boasting only drives you deeper into a place of isolation and insignificance.

Where is the space in our world for weakness?

What if Superman came to earth and instead of disguising himself as weak, exploited himself in front of humanity, constantly boasting of his strength?  Would anyone even feel significant enough to be saved?

A few years ago I was on a men’s retreat with my last parish.  And in case you don’t know anything about men’s retreats in the Episcopal Church, there’s quite a bit of drinking to go along with the fellowship.  At about ten o’clock that evening, a man who I have come to respect very deeply, stood up and announced that at seven o’clock there was going to be a meeting, an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting and anyone who wanted to come was welcome to come.  Since many of my closest family members are alcoholics and I’ve seen how AA has been so beneficial, I decided it would be good for me to go.  That morning I experienced the most profound glimpse of the Kingdom of God.  I wept as I watched man after man, our society’s symbol of strength and power (masculinity), stand up and confess that they were powerless over alcohol.  And I wept because I longed for the space that I could shamelessly admit that I too am powerless and weak.

Paul says, “in my weakness I am made strong.”

Do you actually believe that?

What kind of space are you creating?  Is there space in your life for yourself and others to boast of weakness?  Do you have space and time to grieve, to rest, to be silent, to want something bigger than this world?  Are you building the Kingdom of God or are you too busy building an empire or your own strength?

May you know your weaknesses.  May you desire healing in the name of Jesus.  And may it give you peace.

Shalom.

The sermon is property of:
St Paul's Episcopal Church
Murfreesboro, TN
www.stpaulsmboro.org

The Paradox of Superman

There’s a scene in the movie Kill Bill where the antagonist, Bill, gives a poetically dark monologue about Superman and it’s the ending of which that has been racking my brain all day today:

(watch until 1:25)

Now at the end of this monologue Bill turns to the protagonist, Kiddo and tells her she was born a killer and will always be a killer, etc. etc.  That’s not the part that gets me though.  It’s what Bill doesn’t say in this monologue that has me stuck. 

Yes, Superman sees humanity as weak and cowardly, but Superman, who is not human, still chooses to save us.  Now the obvious answer is that he was raised by humans and therefore feels deeply connected to his adopted parents.  But if you read many of the Superman publications this is in fact the tension of Superman: why should the alien Superman save humanity?  In Superman novels time and time again, humanity is letting Superman down, giving their allegiances to Lex Luther or some other entity of evil that promises them safety and prosperity.  Even in the Hollywood-ized Christopher Reeves movies, Superman lives in his fortress of solitude and can never have Lois Lane as his own.  Superman has nothing to gain from us, and yet, time and time again, when humanity is in trouble Superman comes to the rescue.

Is this the Kingdom of God?  In a transactional, consumer world, where motivation is congruent with personal gain, is doing the thing that makes no sense, the place where God grows and the ways of death cease?

If we have been wired to believe that you do only what gives you the biggest return then doing good for the sake of others must seem alien or even foolish.  But yet, people still do good things.  Everyday.  Whether it's conscious in their minds or crammed away deep in their sub conscience people work against the empire of selfishness, power, personal wealth, and societal status to do good.  But even I, a 'professional' christian am constantly having to fight my desires to join the status quo and build my own empire.  After all it is sexier and being adored is quite a rush.     

But, where would Metropolis be without Superman?  What if Superman followed this so-called status quo?  What if Superman required Metropolis to pay him back, could they ever repay him?  Certainly not!  But yet we’d rather have Superman than no Superman at all.  Even if it doesn’t make any sense at all for Superman, we still want Superman.  Superman is good.  And if Superman is good why don't we do likewise?

Perhaps, we all try to do something today that doesn’t make sense.  Care for a child that isn’t yours.  Give money without taking any credit for it.  Be kind to a stranger, even if they aren’t homeless.  Perhaps, this may be a way to get out of the flow that doesn't seem to be going anywhere...

Shalom

Authenticity or how the movie Extreme Days killed Youth group culture

It was going to be awesome… a movie… about us!  It was the fall of 2001 and all my youth group friends, got our moms to drive us to the movies and we anxiously awaited the screening of the movie Extreme Days.  It was essentially a movie made by the Christian media for youth group kids.  I, more than ten years later, can’t remember what the movie was about.  I remember there being some paint ball fights, Pax 217, lots of driving around and Rufio.  In the end the movie sucked and it left all of us feeling disappointed.  What’s worse, I believe, is that this movie was the icon of our culture for the entire world to see, and it wasn’t much.

actor Dante Basco but you can call him Rufio

Honestly, I don’t think this movie single handedly ended youth culture as we knew it ten years ago, but it does beg the question: why is it that when it’s time to put Christianity on display in front of mother culture it looks stupid?  What is it about these films (like Fireproof, Facing The Giants, and Passion of the Christ) that exploit our shallowness and ham handedness?

Now to be fair, there are good majorities of people that actually like these movies.  I have a buddy, who saw Fireproof, with his wife and said it brought him to tears.  However, this same friend of mine wouldn’t miss a day of church even if he himself were playing in the Super Bowl.  But this posting isn’t about people like my buddy, it’s about the other 60% (according to rottentomatoes.com) of the world that saw this movie and said it was terrible.  Also, I do believe it is possible to make movies about our humanity, with Christian and family values, that are both beautiful and poignant (i.e. Pixar). 

still trying to figure out what i was crying about at the end of Toy Story 3

So is the answer then, that we do “Christian things” but don’t necessarily call them, “Christian things?”  Not necessarily, honestly, I doubt that calling something ‘Christian’ is what makes people not like it.  That’s playing the persecution card, which really gets us nowhere in this dialogue. 

Emergent Young Adults have a tremendous bull s*** barometer and I believe that it’s a survival mechanism rather than the outcome of being really cynical.  In order to survive Americana in the year 2012 you have to be savvy, because in an age of information overload you can’t give your attention to everything demanding your attention.  You have to know the difference between hyperbolic profit based media and real news.  Between actual Muslims and fundamentalist religious radicals.  Between broken systems of lobbyist controlled government and unfounded campaign promises.  We as the up and coming generation can smell your inauthenticity from a mile away and that’s a good thing.

Which brings me back to Extreme Days and youth culture.  Perhaps, the reason kids are choosing soccer practice, the NFL, and even school over youth group and parents are choosing busyness over a church centered family and young adults are choosing sex, booze, and gentrified neighborhoods over waking up early enough on Sunday morning to go to church, is that we are just like everything else in our culture: hyperbole with out any substance. 

And that’s exactly what these films are!  The movie was called, EXTREME Days and in the end it was totally lame!  And when you think about the Passion of the Christ, supposedly the Jesus movie of the century, it’s really nothing more than a violent exploitation film about a guy name Yeshua who got the crap kicked out of him. 

Father, forgive Mel Gibson, he doesn't know he hates Jews

Perhaps we need to stop making such tall claims.  Certainly, I’ve had profound experiences in following Jesus, but the truth is, the day-to-day inner workings of my faith are generally mundane and rudimentary.  A life of prayer in the name of Jesus often times isn’t a very good story to tell.  But that’s not how we as Christians like to talk about it.  How often do you hear about how turning to Jesus makes life awesome?  How often do you see youth group branding that makes Jesus more like an action hero?  How often do you see kids who grew up ‘in a bubble’ totally stoked about this Jesus guy, discover how awesome debauchery, drunkenness and hooking up feels (not to mention how many more people want to hear that story) and never comes back church? 

We have to stop talking about Jesus in this way.  We have to start telling people what Christianity actually is: a community of people working out their salvation.  Granted, there are times in our story that we experience awesome moments of unity and blessings of the Holy Spirit.  But the truth is most of my Christian experience is in suffering through a chose I made.  Whether it was to forgive someone rather than acting out in violence or abstaining from something to learn to be more disciplined.  Sometimes that experience is extreme but most of the time the experience is mundane or even painful (talk about a hard sell).

I believe this generation craves authenticity and will seek Jesus if we stop trying to sell Jesus.  Until Christian culture can come up with a narrative that is profoundly real, we’re going to continue to ask, when our by-products get put on the big stage of mother culture: ‘is this it?’

Sabotage

So I was reading this blog by a guy named Dan Pallota, and it got me thinking about people's crazy.

Let me begin with a confession:

If you ask me my golf handicap, I'll probably tell you it's a 12 or if I'm feeling like you wouldn't care either way I'll be a little more honest and say it's a 15.  However, I’ve got to be honest with you, I have no idea what I actually shoot on the golf course.  It’s not because I don’t count my penalty strokes or my mulligans, I actually do (a few weeks ago I took a 12 when my first three tee shots went into the woods, years ago I would have called that 3 mulligans and a birdie).  No, it’s because I have probably never actually taken an honest second putt.  What I mean is, if my ball is around six feet from the hole, I begin to do what I call ‘mental gymnastics.’  Here’s what I mean: Instead of standing over the ball, lining up my shot, and taking the putt, I usually walk up and create some sort of sabotage.  I’ll swing the club with one hand, hit the ball from the wrong side, or just run up and shoot it really quickly.  If the putt goes in, it counts (of course).  However, if I miss (which usually happens), I say to myself, ‘well if I would have just taken my time then I would have made it.’ And then I walk off the green with mixed emotions, knowing deep down I bogeyed the hole but gladly enjoying the par on the scorecard.  In the end I’d rather walk to the next tee box feeling like I could have made it rather than accepting the truth that I’m really not that good at golf.

Pallota’s blog is a critique of non-profits.  His observation is that many people get into ‘world-saving’ work because they are hero-complexed co-dependents. I, out of my own experience, more or less, agree with him.  Furthermore, Pallota went on to critique the way non-profits almost pride themselves on being under rescourced:

In my consulting work, I see people who wear the debilitating lack of resources in their organization like a badge of honor, despite the fact that the deficiency undermines their ability to impact the community problem they are working on. I see people moving from one nonprofit to another, from one cause to another, seemingly more addicted to "the struggle" than passionate about solving any particular social ill.

Now if you know anything about me, you would know, that no one waves the ‘everyone should suffer and struggle’ flag more enthusiastically than I do.  But I do think there is a difference between the kind of struggle that involves addressing and working through the pain and suffering happening in the world/your soul, and struggling because of your own sabotage.

Do you perpetuate cycles of struggle because you need something to blame your failures on?  Do you surround yourself with busyness, a lack of resources, organization or preparation because you are afraid to face the truth: What if you had all of your ducks in a row and you still failed?  What if you had unlimited resources, time and energy and you still came up short?  Could you accept that you aren’t that great?  Could you still love yourself if you saw how talented you actually were rather than living in the delusion of whom you could potentially be?

My point is this: The world might be a better place if we stopped nurturing the crazy that keeps our egos alive.  I’m not encouraging despair but rather encouraging all of us, not just those that work in non-profits, to work on cultivating healthy environments and a balanced self.  Stop trying to save the world if you can’t properly care for the people around you or even yourself.  Work to bring order to the chaos around you.  Take the morning to organize your desk.  Take five minutes and meditate or pray.  Reassess your goals based on what you or your organization can actually afford both financially and emotionally.    

no one is impressed by how crazy your life is

So line up, take your time on that putt, if you miss it, so what, at least you’ll find yourself outside of the turmoil and in a place of authenticity. 

Shalom.