Godly sorrow

I think one of the driving forces of our culture in America is the desire for constant happiness. Because painful emotions are so, well, painful, we do our best to push them completely to the margins of our lives. For marketers, this is the perfect cultural climate, mostly because happiness is often so fleeting. They go ahead and prey on the idea that we should always be happy and that we should use such and such product to attain that goal, which works well for them because we quickly get tired of things and then have to get more to get back to that elusive happy place. The cruel trick of this system is that we end up feeling like there's something wrong with us, not the system, because we aren't happy all the time.

But what if pain really has a purpose? What if those unsettling feelings are important windows into who we actually are and who we are supposed to be becoming?

I'm reading this book right now called The Cry of the Soul by Dan Allender and Tremper Longman III (by the way, don't you wish you could put "the third" after your name? It makes it sound much more professional and important, don't you think?) that basically talks about using our painful and dark emotions as a bridge to greater relationship with God. It is a fantastic book and I highly recommend it. In light of our American culture, what it got me thinking about was the specific value of the sorrow we are trying so hard to avoid feeling (but honestly, can never truly escape). The Bible has a lot to say on this topic, but here's just one verse that has really captivated my attention:

"Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death" --2 Corinthians 7:10

No wonder the world is trying to avoid sorrow; perhaps they've picked up on the fact that their particular brand of it leads to death! It's perfectly natural, apart from God's intervention, to try to avoid pain at all costs. But do you catch what happens to the progression when God enters the mix? Godly sorrow --> repentance --> salvation. What an unexpected endpoint! Sorrow helps to save us?

Here's how I see that working: it's the difference between two words that are very similar and thus often confused, despair vs. desperation.

The great thing (or one of the many great things) about words, as English majors such as myself will be quick to tell you, is that they have such subtlety of meaning. Very rarely do two words mean exactly the same thing. Even synonyms usually have some subtle difference that separates them or some situation where one is more appropriate than the other; otherwise, why would we need two different words? Anyway, despair and desperation are two words like this. They are commonly used synonymously, but they are different and the distinction is an important one.

Despair means the loss of hope. A more accurate synonym for it would be hopelessness. It's easy to see where that leads: people who lose hope give up. This is sorrow leading to death, or worldly sorrow to use the terms of Paul in the verse above.

Desperation means the state of recognizing that one is in very serious and pressing need. A more accurate synonym for this one is brokenness. This leads people to do whatever is necessary to see that serious need be met. This sorrow, by God's grace, can often lead to repentance and life-- godly sorrow, as Paul would say.

See the difference? Despair looks at sorrow and sees no way out, so it refuses to deal with pain, opting to drown it out or die trying. Desperation looks right at the sorrow, enters in and cries out to be comforted. Despair sees no way out; desperation sees that there is only one way out and clings to its last chance for dear life.

On its own, of course, desperation isn't enough. But, when we realize that God is that way out, all of a sudden desperation leads right to salvation. We pursue God with single-minded fury and passion, turning from all the things that hinder us from getting to him (which is a pretty good definition of repentance, if I do say so myself), and holding onto the corner of his robe (see Mark 5:25-34) like our lives depend on it (which they do). End result: salvation, and no regrets.

Let me finish by going back to my definition of desperation, recognizing that we have a serious and pressing need. Is there ever a time when we don't have a serious need for God? No. Still, sometimes we feel like that need might not be too serious or pressing, that we can maybe handle things on our own for a little while. The trick for us is realizing that desperation is our constant state. There is only one way out of our problems, and it's Jesus. The only power that we have available to walk in comes from him, but he invites us to share it if we'll only admit we need it.

Maybe that's why God gives us sorrow and pain, to remind us that we need him and to give us access to his strength. God told Isaiah that he would give his people "the bread of adversity and the water of affliction" (Isaiah 30:20). Can it be true that these painful things are actually our food, the sustenance that we need to survive? It could be, if they drive us to God in godly sorrow. So, is it possible that by tuning out our pain and sorrow in all the various ways that we choose, we turn down God's great invitation to draw near and experience his power and salvation and life?

It's something to think about.

Resolutions

Well, normally I don't do this. In fact, I'm not sure I've ever done it before. This year, though, I'm making a New Year's resolution. Actually, I'm making two of them.

I guess I've always rebelled against the idea that just because the calendar changes makes this a better time than any other to try to change your life for the good. Resolutions seem so cliché. And really, if you're just saying things because it's the time of year to say them, there's no way those kinds of things are going to produce lasting change anyway. That's probably why so many New Years' resolutions fail miserably.

Well, that and the fact that so many of them involve sweeping, wholesale life change of the variety that really can only be accomplished bit by agonizing bit, not by idealistic proclamations. In that sense, the phenomenon of the New Year's resolution is very indicative of our culture as a whole. Showing resolve actually means bearing up under troubles and being firm and unyielding. But, it doesn't seem very empowering or encouraging to say, "I will fight this thing tooth and nail even when it seems like nothing is happening until finally and ever so gradually I start to see results." Instead, we like to decree instantaneous change: "Starting right now, I resolve to be different in this way." Also, very seldom do we ask God for his help at all. No wonder we can't ever keep these things!

Having said all that, though, I am still making two resolutions. I mean them, in light of my statements above, as things I hope to gradually improve on. They aren't especially life-transforming, but I hope that little by little, with God's help these can be things that yield blessing in my life. Here they are:

1. Drink more water.

2. Be on time for things.

That's it! Basically, I just noticed that I feel much better when well hydrated, and there's no reason short of laziness that I can't feel like that a lot more of the time. As far as being on time, I am pretty good about that when it involves something that I have a responsibility for, like a band practice or something. What I'm talking about is personal integrity stuff. I want to arrive when I say I will and be a man of my word in every area. Of course, I still value things that I can come to whenever, so those aren't really included. I really like flexibility! In general, though, I'm working to be more on time and ahead of the curve. So that's all for now... we'll see how it goes this year, and maybe next year I'll even try it again :)

Finding Christmas

As I've been getting older, I find that I sometimes have trouble getting in the "Christmas spirit" like I did when I was a kid. Maybe it's just because when I was little, all Christmas meant to me really was the excitement of getting new stuff. You know, waking up and realizing you finally made it through the agonizingly long night, going downstairs to find the tree all lit up and a beautiful unknown haul of presents under it... that kind of stuff. I think decorations also seem more fun and festive when you're a little kid, and they certainly aren't just another task that needs to be completed. Anyway, Christmas was definitely joyful to me when I was a child, albeit possibly not for the right reasons.

Somewhere along the way, though, you start to realize that presents aren't always going to be enough. I've always known what Christmas is really all about (Linus in "A Charlie Brown Christmas" anyone?), but I think my young brain had a bad disconnect between that and what actually happened around Christmas. Good tidings of great joy=...presents?? Now, I realize of course that Jesus gave us the best gift and that's why we give gifts on Christmas, and I love giving gifts to people I love! All I know is, I was at the mall yesterday buying said gifts, and I left feeling depressed despite the fact that I got some really cool stuff I'm excited about giving.

Here's a poem I wrote most of a long time ago (and without thinking about Christmas) that describes some of my thoughts today:


Search Engine

A search for entertainment, from desire to forget
the pains already suffered and prevent the ones not yet,
a fight to disengage the mind and not to know, just feel:
we can only live when happy; deeper feelings we conceal.
So the cycle will increase just as it always has before,
an insatiable desire reaching out for more and more.

A search for education, to remember we aspire,
to learn why things aren’t working out through knowledge we acquire,
and so the mind is stretched while the emotions just congeal:
we trust only what we understand and nothing else is real.
But as we learn, the more we know at some things we must guess:
disillusionment reversed, reaching into less and less.

A search for something different, but what difference does it make
in a Nutri-sweet and plastic world where everything is fake?
Still the imitations indicate that real things do exist,
and they might be there for finding if we only can resist
the current that pulls down around and kills beneath the fall
to go through instead of under, to where truth is all in all.



I guess maybe I'm just tired of all the fakeness. I'm with Charlie Brown: Christmas is way too commercial. And man, if he was worried about that in the '60's, what would he say now? See, I'm all in favor of gifts, but I'm worried that we're skipping the part about honoring and remembering Jesus' gift and just using it as an excuse to go whole-hog into the materialism that is probably the #1 besetting vice of American culture. I know he would want us to celebrate his birth, but I can't help asking: is this how he would want us to do it?

It's this materialistic tendency, I think, that can make all the best things about Christmas the things that we end up hating. Maybe that's why I like How the Grinch Stole Christmas (both versions) more than almost any of my friends do. I identify with the Grinch! I also think the modern version is really on to something with this idea of Christmas as a search for something. Unfortunately, they chose to express that insight through the song, "Where are you, Christmas?", a song that is almost tolerable when that cute little who sings it, but completely insufferable when sung by Faith Hill or whoever it was in the credits. In any case, that song (like so many other secular songs) is inches away from being a Jesus song. It has an excellent grasp of a real problem... but then it offers a worthless solution.

The solution offered by the song is, however, close: it suggests saving Christmas by having love and joy in our hearts. Great, now how do I do that, especially when I have to go to the mall filled with shoppers that generally tend to seem much more angry than loving and workers that seem far more depressed than joyful? That could just be because I'm such a last minute shopper... but still. The key thing is, there's no way I can just generate these good feelings. In the terms of my poem above, I can't entertain myself into forgetting my pain, and I can't intellectualize it away. I desperately need a third option, but I find it obscured by a lot of fakeness and annoying decorations.

I'm not trying to be a downer here. I think the state of Christmas in America is pretty sad, but there is one thing I like about it: it gets people searching. It's also the one time every year when the gospel message gets on national tv (thank God for Linus!). Hopefully, when people get tired of the cheap imitations, they'll realize that the mere proliferation of imitations means there must be something real somewhere. There is real love to be had, and real joy comes with it. That's why all I really want to do this Christmas is worship God and spend time with people I love. What if we focused on that instead of making a part-time job out of managing/purchasing/looking for Christmas? As I'm trying to shift my focus, I'm noticing that the real joy and peace that are supposed to be associated with Christmas spirit have come to me from the Father and his love! Have we ever thought that maybe the "Christmas Spirit" should be the Holy Spirit? I ask because the Spirit is the one who reveals the Father's love and the joy of being saved by Jesus to us, and we'll never find Christmas until we find Christ.