Encouragement

A friend in New York City who teaches at a prep school lamented to me: “The faculty never speak a word of encouragement. It’s always the same thing — criticize, criticize, criticize. It’s enough to make me quit my job.”

Why is it that we often find it easier to criticize rather than to encourage one another? The 19th century writer, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, wrote, “Correction does much, but encouragement does more.” My own experience agrees with this wisdom.

After speaking with my friend in New York City, I’ve been wondering if we criticize others to make ourselves feel better. I’ve also been wondering what our critical assessment of other people says about our image of God, by which I mean how we understand God’s character or personality.
It’s my opinion that there is a strong connection between a person’s image of God as a heavenly critic and his or her own criticism of other people. If God is always looking at your faults, then you might be more eager to look at the faults of other people.

But here’s the thing: God is not always looking at our faults. I know of no primary religious text in any major world religion that suggests God is always out to get us. I know of no sacred writing that imagines God as a Being who unyieldingly criticizes humanity. Rather, God is the great encourager.
Of course, it is not just people of religious faith who are critical rather than encouraging of others. But, as a pastor-theologian, I have to ask: Why do many of us religious types swiftly criticize other people rather than encourage them? Doesn’t our religious faith inspire the best in us, which should lead us to inspire the best in other people?

As someone who is privy to the inner lives of many people, I am struck by the lack of encouragement that people feel in daily life. Our culture is swimming in aspersions. To paraphrase the black country music star Charlie Pride, who felt the sting of criticism from both white and black detractors, “What we don’t need… is divisiveness, public criticism of each other, and some arbitrary judgment of what belongs and what doesn’t.”

Ask any psychologist and he or she will tell you that encouragement is what’s needed to thrive. As the famous American writer Harper Lee said in an interview, “I never expected any sort of success with ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’... I sort of hoped someone would like it enough to give me encouragement.”

Even the greatest among us need encouragement. And if the greatest among us need encouragement, how much more so you and me and those for whom life has been a series of failures and bad starts?
So, dear readers, stop overly criticizing other people — or yourself. Rather, take the perspective of a verse from the Christian New Testament: “Encourage one another and build up each other.”

Litter Bugs

You probably never litter. Or, maybe it’s just been a while since you last tossed a coke can out the window. Or, maybe it’s your practice to litter all of the time, throwing cigarette butts, McDonald’s bags and beer cans along U.S. 1 and A1A. Maybe it was you that I saw just the other day.

We were headed into downtown. We were stopped on the bridge. I was behind you. You were driving a Honda sedan. I saw you holding the cigarette near the tinted open window. And I thought to myself: “Surely she won’t throw the butt on the road” — though I knew it to be a distinct possibility because I pick up trash on Pope Road and cigarette butts are the most prevalent form of litter.

My optimism was shattered: you took one more drag of your stick and then flicked the cig onto the pavement. I’ve been wondering how many ciggy’s you’ve deposited on our roadways and beaches. And since you don’t mind throwing butts out the window of your ride, maybe you’re the one who throws 46 ounce Styrofoam cups onto A1A. I’m not an environmental warrior. But I do think the old Native American proverb is accurate: “We do not inherit the EARTH from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children.”

OK, OK. I will stop pointing my finger. I know that it’s not nice. And besides, Jesus has said: “Do not judge lest you be judged.” Nonetheless, I’m very frustrated with litter bugs.

In graduate school I studied the psychologist Carl Jung. Jung once wrote: “The thing that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.” I believe this nugget of truth. I know that littering is one of the things that irritates me, but I’m still wrestling with what it is supposed to teach me about myself. Maybe I’m supposed to learn that I shouldn’t judge litterbugs. Because that’s what I do. I judged you when you threw the butt out of your Honda window. And I know I shouldn’t judge you. It’s like Mother Theresa once said: “If you’re judging people you have no time to love them.”

Be that as it may, and as a student of ancient Greek philosophy, I think the oft-quoted statement by Euripides bears repeating here: “Judge a tree by its fruit.”

Euripides, Jesus and Mother Theresa have to be held in tension, I think. After all, it’s impossible not to evaluate people’s actions. If we don’t evaluate — judge — people’s actions, and our own actions, how would we ever know that littering is not the right way to live in community?

So, on the one hand, I owe you, dear litter bug, an apology for judging your public untidiness. But, on the other hand, I love you enough to tell you that your behavior is inappropriate.

Money

To paraphrase Plato, too much money is as bad as too little money. They both bring their own concerns.
In most cases that I know, lack of money is not the issue: too much desire is the problem. Lessen desire and less money is needed. Whether rich or poor, discontentment can bleed you to death. If you're not content with what you have then you will suffer. No amount of money can appease a dissatisfied heart.
The richest person is the person who is grateful for what she has in the moment.

Cherish Small Things

I’m on my back porch. The sun resembles a fading orange ember. Leaves the size of my hand drop from an old tree and appear to swim in the air as they float to the ground. The wind carries the leaves for an instant and releases them. They fall with a soft touch, landing near my feet, which themselves swim in golden late-day light.

I recline in a rocker and I think about the New Year, 2013, and what changes I might want to make to improve the quality of my life. Slowing down would be a good move. As Mahatma Ghandi said: “There is more to life than simply increasing its speed.”

As I watch the falling leaves and the ebbing sun I am suddenly hit by a thought: Slow down and cherish the small things. In 2013, appreciate the little things a little more. Appreciate things like a falling leaf or the last ray of a sinking sun. It’s like the philosopher Bertrand Russell remarked, “In all affairs it’s a healthy thing now and then to hang a question mark on the things you have long taken for granted.”

I don’t know if it’s true for you, but when I “hang a question mark on things I have taken for granted,” especially the little things, life becomes more robust, more colorful and meaningful. As the Christian poet Khalil Gibran wrote, “For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.”

I continue to watch the dropping leaves. They descend like falling yellow stars. The air is crisp and I feel the coolness in my lungs. Slow down and cherish the small things, I tell myself. Like the sound of my wife and son talking in the warm kitchen. Like the Carolina wren strutting on the top of the Confederate jasmine. Like the feel of my dog as I pet her soft black head.

I wonder why I take the little things for granted, even though they pop with beauty? I wonder why Ovid wrote: “Little things please little minds.” The great poet could not have been referring to a small thing such as a Monarch butterfly that just fluttered past my face heading south.

No matter the opinion of a dead poet. In 2013 I will intentionally cherish the little things. Like my family’s good health. Meaningful work. Surfing. The laughter of friends. Great books. The sound of Christmas music drifting through an open window in my house.

I once read a novelist who wrote, “Half the joy of life is in little things taken on the run.” I think this is true. The only problem is that when we’re running we rarely pause to appreciate the little things. To appreciate the little things you and I must slow down. Slow way down. After all, you can’t smell a rose if you’re sprinting to and fro.

The Mystery

The mystery is all around us. We live and breathe and have our being in the mystery. We do our best to pin the mystery down. We do our best to name it, tame it, and frame it according to our likes and dislikes. We make the mystery conform to our agendas, politics, theologies, and ideologies. But the mystery subverts them all.

The mystery is sitting with you now. No matter where you are--the U. S, Poland, somewhere in the "Middle East." The mystery is for you even if everyone else and everything else is against you. The mystery loves you because the mystery is itself love. 

Christmas Doesn't Come from a Store

Whatever our faith or beliefs about Christmas, many of us are entering a season of gift-giving (whether the Shi’a Muslim holy day of Ashura, Christmas, Hanukkah, or the Buddhist celebration of Bodhi Day). Within the Christian tradition, the idea of giving gifts comes from a story in the New Testament. The story details how wise men visited the infant Jesus and offered gifts. It’s always beautiful to me how the Christmas season inspires people to offer gifts of kindness. Generosity is heard as bell-ringers remind us of the needy and coins drop into shiny red buckets. Smiles are more abundant in grocery store check-out lines. But during the Christmas season, it is no less fascinating to witness the onslaught of consumerism. Why does a holy day — such as Christmas — inspire so many millions to spend more money on presents than on gifts to charity? I mean, it’s not like Jesus is a poster child for materialism. As I recall, he does say, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”Oh, I know, I shouldn’t be such a stick in the mud. It’s just people having fun. It’s just presents.

Of course, I understand that we shop till we drop to demonstrate our love for other people. I know that we have taken the idea of gift giving from “the wise men of the east.” But, as Dr. Seuss reminds us, “Even the Grinch knew that Christmas doesn’t come from a store.” Honestly, it’s the spending thing that has me concerned. For example, in 2011, the average American spent almost $1,000 on Christmas gifts. There are a number of issues associated with such spending — not the least of which is that many Americans spend themselves into debt (the average credit card debt per household in the U.S. is over $15,000) buying presents.If you haven’t braved the malls quite yet or spent hours online, consider this: Long after your teenager tires of her $500 designer purse, long after the new iPad is replaced by a faster model, the credit card companies will continue to reap the benefits of your excess (but don’t get me started on usury).

OK, I’ve sounded my Christmas horn. I will stop preaching. But just one more thing. Do yourself a favor: Keep Christmas simple. After all, the wise men who brought gifts to baby Jesus didn’t buy the stuff on credit. And they didn’t spend the next year paying off the bill, which is probably why we call them wise.

Jesus and The New York Stock Exchange

The ground of a certain rich man brought forth abundantly. He reasoned within himself, saying, 'What will I do, because I don't have room to store my crops?'

He said, 'This is what I will do. I will pull down my barns, and build bigger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. I will tell my soul, "Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years. Take your ease, eat, drink, be merry."'

"But God said to him, 'You foolish one, tonight your soul is required of you. The things which you have prepared—whose will they be?' So is he who lays up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God." (New Testament, Luke 12)

Jesus' words scare me. This parable scares me. I feel scared because I can't help but wonder if I am, if you are—if we are like the rich fool in the story. I wonder if I am the fool and you are the fool and we don't even realize it because almost everyone else in our North American culture is also the fool. I say this with all due respect.

As a little boy I watched my dad work hard, take over his father's company, make a very nice living, buy us bigger and bigger homes, nicer and nicer cars...on and on. And though I know my father is a generous person, in light of this parable, though, I wonder about the real value of accumulating wealth, if it is not to be shared.

In our parable, this morning, Jesus is not attacking wealth, per say, but the foolish idea of amassing money to use for the sole purpose or personal enjoyment. Notice in the parable how the rich fool focuses on himself in the course of his reflection: “I will do this and I will do that and I will secure myself a more enjoyable future with all that I have made.” Jesus suggests that accumulating wealth, socking it away, buying more and more stuff is, to some degree, harmful for a life with God.

This is a tough thing for us to hear exactly because Jesus' words fly in the face of our economic philosophy. Jesus' words cut at the quick of the American dream. The rich fool is the very embodiment of what many of us embrace as the right way to live.

Jesus isn't alone in his critique of amassing wealth for the purposes of selfish enjoyment or securing our future—as if money can secure our lives. Every major world religion suggests the very same thing as Jesus.

Taoism, which is primarily a Chinese religion states: Do not race after riches, do not risk your life for financial gains, or you will let slip the heaven within you.” And Sikhism, which is an Indian religion, says, “Blessed is the straw hut where God's praises are chanted; worthless the white mansions where God is not remembered.”

My dad, of course, was just following what his dad taught him who was just following what his dad had taught him. It's the Protestant work ethic nicely mixed with Adam Smith's little idea called capitalism. It's how we understand the world. It's how we understand ourselves. Make more, acquire more, and you will be more.

Have you ever imagined Jesus standing in the mall or on the floor of the NYSE? Have you ever wondered what Jesus might say to someone with the bumper sticker, “He who dies with the most toys wins?”