Monthly Archives: March 2021

A Walking Eyeball?

The instructor for my Wednesday Bible study could be described with one word: evangelist. Her heart and soul is filled with desire to bring others to Christ, to the point of overflowing. She sincerely loves Jesus like few I’ve ever seen.

I am simultaneously inspired, envious, and saddened at my own lack of the same.

Unlike her, I don’t feel the same pull to evangelize to non-believers. As such, I can’t help but ask why. Am I lacking in my own faith? Am I not focused enough on his voice and his word, so in the end he has no (or little) use of me?

Some of you will be rolling your eyes at me, I’m sure. Me questioning my strength and faith is nothing new, and some of you have expressed (for years), that I’m silly to doubt my faith.

Let me assure you that I don’t doubt my faith. My questions derive from my need to strengthen it. How can I do that if I don’t ask questions and seek out where I’m weak?

So back to my question. Am I lacking in something, because I have neither the gift nor desire to win lost souls to Jesus?

Or do I have neither, because Jesus has other plans for me?

One thing I love about both Jesus and Paul are their surgically sharp use of exaggeration and rhetoric to make a point.

In this case, how Paul describes the Body of Christ in 1 Corinthians 12:12-31. Because of its imagery, verse 17 in particularly has always stuck with me: “If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell?” The first part makes me think of Mike Wazowski in Pixar’s “Monsters, Inc.”

Silly imagery aside, it’s the perfect vehicle to make a point, or as Rush Limbaugh used to say, “Being absurd to illustrate absurdity.”

Paul was illustrating the absurd notion that all our gifts should be the same.

Thus proving my own absurdity for believing I (and my gifts) are lacking, simply because my life, gifts and desires don’t mirror others.

So what then are my gifts? What does Jesus intend for me to do if it’s not to evangelize to the lost?

All I can do is ask where my passions point toward instead of where they don’t.

In the simplest terms, I love the Bible, God’s Word. And what I hate is when people (Christians especially) twist scripture to mean the exact opposite of what it says, or when they ignore certain passages in favor of others in order to give themselves license to act a certain way.

That’s not to say I shouldn’t point the lost to Jesus. Quite the contrary. That is the ultimate goal of all within the Body of Christ—of which I’m a part. I’m simply not an evangelist whereby that’s my main and singular goal. Perhaps my job instead is to encourage and help those who do.

So does my passion make me an apologist instead, perhaps even a critic?

I’ll be the first to tell you I don’t know ten percent of what I should about scripture… I know just enough to be dangerous. Yet lately I’ve been in a studious mood both with the Bible study as well as reading non-fiction by those far more knowledgeable about scripture than me.

Or maybe I’m not an apologist so much (at least not yet) as I am a student. Either way, that’s where I belong in the Body as of now (because that could always change). And who am I to argue with God that I’m an ear instead of an eye—figuratively speaking?

Keeping It Professional

I believe that one must always be professional when at work. To let our emotions get the best of us not only tarnishes our reputation, it lessens people’s respect.

That’s not to say it’s always easy, because one can get blindsided by the unprofessional behavior of fellow employees and/or clients.

Such an incident happened to me on Monday with several at my work, and I’ve been struggling ever since.

With clients, the more unprofessional/indignant/belligerent they get, the nicer I act toward them. It works, too. More than once, said rude client has called me back to apologize.

When people I have worked alongside for years break my trust, yet I still must work with them, it takes almost all my willpower to not get passive-aggressive at least and be downright rude and/or think of ways sabotage their own work until their last day. Yet I must set aside my anger, because the work as well as our clients are what matter. They’re certainly not going to care about my bruised feelings if the quality of our product suffers.

So I silently seethe, and internally wish them ill will now and in the future even as I smile and treat them as if nothing’s changed. To be professional regardless of the circumstances. I know, not very “Christian” to curse them—even in my head—but I also have to be honest before I can work past it.

I also think of Proverbs 25:21-22: “If your enemy is hungry, give him bread to eat, and if he is thirsty, give him water to drink, for you will heap burning coals on his head, and the Lord will reward you.”

Emotions are fleeting, and a person’s bad behavior will always come back around to bite them eventually. As long as I keep my professionalism, I won’t have to worry about the same.

The New Heroism

Warning: unpopular opinion ahead.

A few days ago, I engaged in a Facebook discussion (I know, a contradiction in terms). A person complained at how boycotting businesses for a thing-that-shall-not-be-named could potentially hurt her job. I jumped in as I’m often wont to do. As expected, she was a bit offended, and basically said my life was likely unaffected by said thing-that-shall-not-be-named—unlike hers.

I started to respond with my own hardships, but stopped halfway through. I ended up deleting it. This wasn’t a contest about who’s the bigger victim. For me, it’s always about truth, facts, and consequences, and as Ben Shapiro likes to say, “Facts don’t care about your feelings.” Nor does truth or consequences. At the beginning of my last comment, I instead wrote, “Read my comments with the head, not the heart.”

That little exchange is an example of where we are as a society. Not that we approach everything based on our feelings (although that’s part of it), but we’ve chosen to treat some victims as heroes.

Oprah’s interview with Prince Harry and Meghan Markle is another example. I only saw excerpts, but what I did see was nothing but a “woe-is-me” session, and an expectation that Meghan deserves our adoration and respect because royal life is apparently harder than she expected.

Let me add something before I go any further. This is not to minimize or mock anyone’s pain or true victimization. Victims do need their voices heard, especially in a court of law, so the perpetrator of those crimes will be stripped of their ability to victimize others.

This isn’t about victims, either, but how society demands that in order to be heard, a person must be a victim.

The Facebook conversation above highlights that tendency: my opponent tried to silence me by basically saying, “You’re not a victim of the thing-that-shall-not-be-named, so you have no right to speak about it.”

One need not be a victim of an injustice or crime to opine on it. We all have a conscience, and most have an innate knowledge of right and wrong, good and evil. We not only have the right to say something, but the duty.

Being a victim does not make one an expert on a particular subject. It’d be like me saying that since I lost a tire hitting a pothole while crossing a bridge, I’m now an expert on road and bridge engineering.

I applaud everyone who’s risen above their hardships with grace and determination—and humility. What I won’t do is bow before them (figuratively or literally), or be expected to shut up because I’ve not faced the same hardship.

And neither should you or anyone else.

Brain Food

Everyone approaches Jesus a little bit differently. Some approach him with the heart, others with the head. Many of us use a combination of both, which is important, I think. The most important part of God’s law, after all, can be summed up with “Love God with all your heart, all your soul and all your mind.”

I can appreciate those who search for and find Jesus with their heart. I, however, am not one of those. That’s not to say I’ve never felt God’s presence, or that he’s never comforted my heart when I needed it. He most certainly has. Yet I still seek him with my head first. I long to know him as much as I enjoy feeling his presence. I want him to teach me all about himself, and for him to show me all of his creation and how it works.

So when I saw the book at my church by Lee Strobel called “The Case for the Real Jesus,” (Zondervan, 2007) how could I, in my insatiable intellectual curiosity, not pick it up?

This one addresses five attacks on Christ’s identity, namely that the resurrection never happened, Jesus never considered himself the Messiah, the early church suppressed other, equally valid and important gospels, that scribes tampered with the Bible, and how Jesus dying on the cross for our sins is a “barbaric concept that would make God guilty of cosmic child abuse.”

I’m on page fifty-three so far, and it’s feeding my brain. Hence the title of this entry. Lee Strobel, like me, approaches God with logic, rational arguments and digs for concrete, verifyable evidence for Jesus. His approach is similar to Dennis Prager, another one of my favorite biblical/religious scholars, but that’s a side topic…

Strobel takes nothing on faith alone. Everything he believes—or chooses to believe—must be verifiable. Like his other books, he brings us along on his journey of discovery, to ask the difficult questions knowing that such a journey could end up changing all his notions of who God is. That’s a hard road to travel, because few people want their beliefs—especially long-held beliefs—to be proved false.

It’s often a matter of pride, that fear. Who likes to admit they’re wrong or perhaps been deceived? I know I don’t.

Yet I also know, like Strobel, and even in Matt Walsh’s book I discussed in a previous entry, the truth matters more than anything. It does not change or become a lie simply because we chose to ignore or disbelieve it.

So do any of the above attacks against Jesus and Christianity have merit? You’ll have to take that journey of discovery yourself. As of now, for me, my brain is full. It’ll be hungry for more in the morning, I’m sure. Luckily, unlike real food, brain food doesn’t add literal fatty pounds to my belly.