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Friday, October 30, 2020

Maybe It's Not a Command

 God’s commands

    “Do not be anxious about anything” (Philippians 4:6). How often have I been told by the evangelically correct that this is a command, just like “do not worship other gods,” “do not commit adultery,” “do not steal”? Many, many times.

    But it doesn’t sound like one to me. Commands are given in a stern voice with dire consequences for defying them. They’re surrounded by statements about the holiness of God, His perfection, and His complete goodness which is incapable of fellowship with sin and evil. They’re proclaimed from a mountain covered in fire and smoke. A mountain that mustn’t be touched by any animal or any person other than Moses, Aaron, and Joshua on penalty of death. Once a command has been broken, fellowship with God can only be restored through painful and humiliating repentance and sacrifice.

God’s compassion

    But as I read Philippians chapter 4, I’m immersed in God’s kindness and love and understanding. Right before He tells me not to be anxious, He comforts me with His presence in verse 5: “The Lord is near.”

    He follows His encouragement to refrain from worry with instructions on how to overcome my anxiety when it hits: “But in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” He’s offering me help and hope. Does He ever do that when He’s confronting me with my sin? No. In that case, He says to cut off my hand or gouge out my eye (Matthew 5:29-30). Take extreme measures. Nothing like that is suggested here.

    Verse 7 describes the blessing that will result from my increasing ability to trust Him: “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” When a command is broken, such peace is only promised after confession and repentance. But there’s no call to repentance here.

    In the well-known passage advising me not to worry found in Matthew chapter 6, Jesus’ words aren’t in the form of a rebuke for sin; they’re more like water and sunshine and fertilizer for my growing faith. He tells me that I’m more valuable than the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. He reminds me that my heavenly Father is gladly providing for my daily needs. His words are spoken with love and compassion. The Bible never treats immoral behavior this way. Sin is far too serious in God’s eyes.

    Peter encourages me to cast all my anxiety on God. He doesn’t advise me to do it because God will punish me if I don’t; he invites me to give my worries to Him because He cares so very much for me (1 Peter 5:7).

    Jesus comforts me in Luke 12:32, “Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom.” He addresses my fear, not with judgment, but as a Shepherd tenderly caring for His sheep. He tells me that my loving Father is pleased to graciously grant me riches beyond my wildest imagining.

The greatest God


    Sometimes I wonder if people reject the God of the Gospel because He sounds too good to be true. How could such a God exist? How could He love me so deeply when I defy Him and disappoint Him on a regular basis? I know I don’t deserve this. Could His grace really be so great, so rich, so free?

    But this is the only kind of god that I could ever worship without reservation, without disappointment, without that little voice inside telling me that He should be better than He is. He must be beyond all my expectations of the best possible god, or He isn’t God at all.


The greatest good

    I also question the idea of seeing Philippians 4:6 as a command because it just doesn’t make sense from a psychological point of view, and I have a feeling that God knows human psychology way better than all the wisest mortal counselors who have ever lived.

    When I was a child, I was a crier. Any little pain, physical or emotional, could bring me to tears. Following the philosophy of their generation, my parents often responded to my weeping by commanding me to quit doing it. The result? I sobbed even more loudly because I was hurt by their lack of understanding and empathy. In a similar way, my anxiety is never, ever reduced or resolved when someone tells me to just stop it.

    I suspect God understands this aspect of human psychology and knows how to deal with it in a way that will lead to the best results. When the evangelically correct command believers to simply cease being anxious, many respond with repression and denial. Hide the anxiety. Pretend it’s not there. Don’t let anyone see it (especially fellow Christians), or you’ll feel guilty and rejected. Others give up on their faith in this God who appears to have no compassion for their struggles.

    God’s way is always the better way. Commanding and expecting me to stop indulging in a particular sin is reasonable and right. Even though I’ll never be perfect in this life, the only way to make any progress in overcoming my evil choices is to recognize that they’re wrong and intentionally turn in the opposite direction. I can find the motivation and the strength to do this because I’ve experienced His forgiveness through Jesus’ sacrifice. That’s the best way to deal with the sin that separates me from the blessing of fellowship with Him.

    But anxiety is a different matter. Soothing my fears, offering realistic ways to work through them, reassuring me of His presence and His care, are far more effective than chastising me. In His love and grace, He provides the better way. The way that meets my deepest needs. The way that increases my faith and my love for Him. The way that draws me nearer to Him. That’s where He wants me to be.

Friday, October 2, 2020

Good Sports

 The background

    I’m excited. God answered a prayer that I wasn’t really even praying. I love it when He does that. He surprised me by providing a solution to a problem that I’d posed in an earlier article.

    As I wrote at that time, I’ve heard many stories of young people who are raised in prosperous Christian homes and who profess faith at an early age, but who are later blindsided by unexpected hardships and respond by turning away from God. My question was: How can parents in a land of plenty better prepare their children for the suffering that will inevitably occur? I didn’t have an answer. God did. I wasn’t even praying for an answer. But God led me to one anyway.

    Our world has been turned upside down since I published that post. It seems kind of irrelevant to ask that question now. With the coronavirus pandemic, no one is living in a bubble of protection anymore, where the pain and the fear can’t touch them. But shortly before COVID-19 invaded our lives, God used Cindy, a friend from church, to suggest a solution to the problem that I’d raised. I want to present it here as a follow-up to my earlier article, because I don’t like unanswered questions and I assume many of you feel the same way. In addition, Cindy’s idea can be applied to the challenge of helping kids to cope now.


An answer to my question

    Cindy went through a tough childhood. Divorced parents. A mother who didn’t want her. A father and stepmother who provided material necessities but no emotional support, no encouragement, no interest in Cindy as a real person.

    For Cindy, hearing the gospel was instantly and dramatically life-changing. She learned of God, the perfect Father, who loved her so intensely that He sacrificed His own Son to save her soul. She had never known a human being who would go one inch out of their way to show that they cared for her. But the God of the universe had spared no expense to demonstrate the depth of His compassion. She believed.

    Years later, Cindy is now a wife and mom. She and her husband both have college degrees and comfortable incomes. They live in a nice house in a nice suburb where their children are receiving a good education. They go to a nice suburban church with other people who live in similar circumstances.

    But to Cindy that’s a problem. How will her kids appreciate the enormity of God’s love if they’ve never known the pain and rejection that she grew up with from the day she was born? We had different questions, but one answer works for both. That answer: Sports. Cindy and her husband have a rule that their children will participate in sports.


The benefits

    Sports provide a safe, short-term exposure to suffering. Everyone loses at some point. Everyone fails sooner or later. With rare exceptions, everyone feels the pain of knowing that someone else is better than they are, that they will never be the fastest runner or the most accurate kicker or the highest jumper. To make it even worse, playing on a team involves struggling and hurting among people who don’t necessarily even care about you.

    When I was a child so many years ago, there was a push to make sports less competitive and more cooperative. It’s still going on. Why hasn’t it succeeded after all this time? I’d appreciate better cooperation in most areas of our lives (especially now), but Americans seem to know that competitive sports have an important role to play, too.

    Cooperation gives us a sense of control. If I’m involved in a cooperative enterprise, I get to help make the rules, choose the role I want to play, and determine what happens next. But suffering almost always demonstrates that I don’t have that kind of control.

    That’s why children need some areas, like sports, where they compete on someone else’s terms. Where unfair calls are made and sometimes luck beats out talent. Where the teams aren’t always equally matched but they have to play anyway. The most difficult moments in life hit us like that. We need to prepare our young ones to meet them.

    But we’re living in different times now. Now all of our kids are experiencing fear and loss in a way that this country hasn’t seen in many decades. They don’t need sports to teach them that life doesn’t always go the way they want it to. But they do need to find ways to process their emotions and responses. How can they do that?

    Through sports. Sports expose athletes to ups and downs, failures and successes, joys and sorrows. But at some point the game ends. Unlike the ongoing stresses in real life, sports provide an opportunity to learn how to deal with temporary pain. The players can then apply those lessons to the more difficult issues in their lives. Facing the minor trauma of striking out or missing a basket or dropping the football, and working through it, can give them the tools and the confidence to face the greater challenges that have come with the coronavirus.

    Sports can also be therapeutic. They can provide an acceptable outlet for aggression, releasing the unspoken fears and frustrations and anger inside. They can help young people to discover and develop their talents. They can allow kids to take pride in their contributions to the team.

    But how many sports are available right now? Many outlets have shut down. Some adults are hesitant about allowing their children to participate in activities where they could be exposed to COVID-19. Some young people are afraid of the potential risks involved. If sports aren’t an option, maybe similar benefits could be made available through a family or bubble-group game time.

    In addition, many of us are using this period of shut-down activities to do more reflecting. With a break from the pressure to be constantly on the go, we’re reconsidering our priorities and our use of time. Maybe some moms and dads will take this opportunity to rethink parenting styles. Maybe they’ll recognize the need to better prepare their children for the realities that the future holds through intentional exposure to short-term suffering. Maybe they’ll come up with a plan like Cindy’s and start looking for ways to get their kids involved in sports once the pandemic is under control.