As happens every September, there’s a feeling of newness in the air. It’s not just the crisp morning air and footballs flying, it’s a returning from the unusual syncopations of summer activities to the more rhythmic routine of autumn. I’ve returned from vacation this year particularly refreshed and focused, and for particular reasons. I’ve watched with growing concern as America has become increasingly polarized politically, so much that our fragmentation is becoming, more than either party’s ideology, the biggest present threat to our future.
The church hasn’t been immune to this polarizing. We’ve mirrored the culture’s political tribal hatred, enough so that it’s increasingly rare to find people of differing political parties willing to worship together, let alone dialogue about their differences. We then add theological layers to the debate, elevating particular ethical issues to the status of litmus tests for fellowship, while knowing full well that there are good people who love Christ and hold to a high view of scripture who hold the opposite view. But for too many, that fact is of no consequence as they withdraw from fellowship because of “those people”.
Toss in a healthy dose of #METOO, courtesy of a NY Times article regarding a well known evangelical church, and an ever expanding sexual abuse scandal in the Catholic Church and I find myself, on my worst days, wanting to pull out completely. John Muir said, “The mountains are calling and I must go…”. I hear them calling too but there are two phrases, each different than Muir’s, that keep me coming to work, day after day, as I soon enter what will be my 24th year of ministry in the same place.
1. The mountains are calling and I want to go… Of course I do. My wife and I enjoyed our first dates on hikes and snowshoeing. The mountains are reminders for us of so much that is true and life giving: our smallness in the light of eternity – God’s grandiose generosity and immense creativity – glimpses, in the majesty of mountains, abundance of waters, beauty of wildlife, silence of a starry night, of life as it should be: glorious, peaceful, interdependent, thriving. Yes, I’ll keep getting out: for morning runs, sabbath hikes, photography meditation walks, ski tours, and more. I need to read God’s other book, the book of creation, as much as I need to read the Bible. Maybe you do too.
But it’s also true that….
My sphere of influence: develop leaders and invite people to body/soul/spirit wholeness
2. My sphere of influence is calling, and I must go. Sphere of influence is a little phrase I picked up decades ago in one of the best books I’ve ever read. The author spoke of our sphere of concern, things about which we care, but are outside our control. We care about politics, climate change, health care, increasing urban density in Seattle, the lazy employee on our team at work, the senior management that are incompetent, etc. But many of these things, for most of us, are well outside our authority to fix. Of course for some of them we can vote on, and perhaps if we’re motivated, we can and should organize as well, or do something more dramatic. But what we shouldn’t do at all is spend time worrying, complaining, lamenting, gossiping, grumbling, whining, posting social media grenades, or being vexed, if it’s a matter outside our direct sphere of influence. If we do we’ll be paralyzed, overcome with worry, and ultimately feel like disempowered victims. Does that sound familiar to you? Increasingly, the Victim card is the most popularly played card in the game of life. But it’s often misguided and disempowering.
It’s far better for me to focus on my sphere of influence. I’ve developed a personal mission statement, which I’ll share in the next blog post. My goals come out of this statement, and my to do list, at my best, comes out of these goals. That way, no matter what’s going on in Syria or Washington DC, I needn’t succumb to the anxiety, fear, anger, and hand wringing that is the soil out from which our current cultural crises are being born. Instead, I can follow the advice of Paul when he prayed that his friends would “live a life worthy of God’s calling…”.
Be faithful on your path because nobody else can!
My commitment to you:
I have a goal this fall of using this blog as a means of encouraging you to define, refine, and excel in your calling. I’ll write about finding your gifts, writing your own mission statement, and developing a set of core values by which to live. YOU CAN HELP in this process by engaging with the material, subscribing (see below), and sharing the posts you like with your friends.
I’m asking you to share the material because my hope and prayer is that more and more people will step away from the negative and cynical culture wars, disempowering victim mentalities, and disengaged cynicism, and instead live fully into their callings to be people of hope in this very difficult time. Will you join me on the journey?
O Lord Christ…
With each headline we sense a vast machine at work, destroying some things we hold dear, no matter our party, even as those operating the machinery do so in the name of preservation. Forgive our fears, our cynicism, our anger – all of which have blinded us to the seminal truth that each of us have a place in this world: gifts to use; neighbors and children and enemies to love; our own souls to nurture toward wholeness; joy to impart. May we get on with it, each of us, in our spheres of influence, doing whatever our hands find to do, with all our might. And we’ll thank you for the joy, and privilege, and adventure of it – in Jesus name.