Some (Previously Unpublished) Thoughts on Integrity

I'm finishing up the final proofs on my next book, The Time for Yes, with the hopes that it'll be out around Thanksgiving. On the way there, I was glancing through the galley copy of Say Yes to No and found a section that was left on the cutting room floor, as it were, and thus did not make it to the final printed edition. As I re-read it, I liked it and realized it's just about the right length for a blog entry. So here goes. The chapter begins with a few comments on Time magazine's three Persons of the Year for 2002, the three whistleblowers: Sherron Watkins of Enron, Cynthia Cooper of WorldCom, and Coleen Rowley of the FBI. 

That very summer, I visited Saint Peter’s Cathedral in Vatican City. I stood inside that enormous space devoted to God moved by its grandeur and beauty. (I stood there, incidentally, also moved by a slight embarrassment. On the way in, I had been forced to buy in cheap, disposable pants for five Euros to cover my Vatican-unapproved shorts.) Saint Peter’s Cathedral testifies to a “bigger is better” church design where internal markers tell us the exact proportions by which this great cathedral—under the brilliant design of none other than Michelangelo—dwarfs all others. For example, having walked around two-thirds the length of the cathedral, I spotted the marker noting where Saint Paul’s Cathedral in London would end. To be honest, within those hallowed walls, my Protestant hackles were raised. The medieval Catholic Church persuaded its members with extravagant guilt to make contributions (“indulgences”) to the church—as signs of faith—so that their dead relatives left the sufferings of Purgatory more quickly. I almost heard Martin Luther’s outcry against indulgences in the 15^th century. Luther “protested,” and thus raised a major cry of the Protestant Reformation. Nonetheless—and despite losing many faithful to these upstart Protestants—indulgences formed the means by which this awe-inspiring cathedral. Simply put, the Popes had found a fundraising scheme so flawless it would make Jimmy Swaggert jealous, and Saint Peter’s was built on the backs of the poor.

            But before I continue, I’d like to counterpoint my criticism by affirming all the good the Roman Catholic Church has done—all the care for poor, all the lives given hope and meaning, all the great art and architecture, Mother Theresa, Michelangelo… even Notre Dame’s college football team. And yet that was the very summer a series of sexual misconduct cases rocked the very structure of the Vatican. Like many throughout the world, I felt horror at the abuse of children’s bodies and trust at the hands of religious leaders. (Something Protestant churches haven’t been immune from either.) Worst of all remains the cover-up based on the dread that “if people know, they won’t believe in the Holy Church anymore.”

            At the same time, all this grandeur and opulence of Saint Peter’s Cathedral contrasted markedly with the simple Christianity of Saint Peter himself (on whose place of martyrdom the cathedral is built). It also diverged from the simple worship of early Christians in the tombs of ancient Rome, where these early worshippers sought refuge from the imperial harassment and persecution. It seems the simplicity and integrity of the Christian faith had been easily obscured by the Roman Catholic Church’s quest over the centuries for money and influence. To quote Jesus, who sounds entirely and appropriately prophetic: “For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life?”

There you have it. I'd be interested to hear your thoughts.

The Natural Knowledge of God

"As a deer longs for flowing streams,
so my soul longs for you, O God" (Ps 42:1)

Augustine wrote early in the fifth century in his beautiful opening prayer to Confessions, “Lord, you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”[1] This is of course a prayer and therefore occurs within faith—it is not therefore technically a proof—and in it Augustine gives our natural yearning for God both an existential and creational caste.

More philosophically, the great thirteenth century Roman Catholic theologian, Thomas Aquinas (who thus wrote before the Protestant/Catholic divide), offered an initial outline of the famous “Five Ways.” First, there is the Argument from Motion: since everything that moves is moved by another, there must thereby exist an Unmoved Mover. Second, the Argument from Efficient Cause: the sequence of causes that make up this universe must have a First Cause. Third, the Argument to Necessary Being: since all things that exist are dependent on other things for their existence, there must exist at least one thing that is not dependent. This then is a Necessary Being. Four, the Argument from Gradation: Since all things that exist can be compared to such qualities as degrees of goodness, there must exist something that is an Absolutely Good Being. Finally, the Teleological Argument: The intricate design and order of existent things and natural processes imply that a Great Designer exists. 

Whether or not these Five Ways are maligned or praised, they have offered an excellent outline for subsequent thinkers who make philosophical arguments for God’s existence and for our natural knowledge of God. In fact they really constitute really a summary of what would have been known to his students reading the Summa and therefore not a full-blown proof are based on Thomas’s conviction that human beings have knowledge that God exists, although revelation is needed to know who God is.[2]

      
In the seventeenth century—right at the flowering of modern science—the mathematician Blaise Pascal offered another proof for God. He began, in a similar vein to Augustine with our existential search for rest: “By nature, we all seek happiness.” But where do we seek it? “Some seek the good in authority, some in intellectual inquiry and knowledge, some in pleasure.” Pascal continued by observing that all these various potential sources for happiness, for a beautiful life, leave us craving for more. He pondered what that meant:

What else does this craving, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him… since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself.[3]

 C. S. Lewis echoed this conclusion about three hundred years after Pascale with a simple, logically compelling, phrase in his apologetics: “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.”[4] Lewis believed that this argument from desire constitute one of the strongest proofs for God’s existence.

            
It may surprise some in the Reformed tradition—at least those who have read Karl Barth’s cavils against “natural theology”—that the seminal voice of Reformed theology, John Calvin, wrote similarly of the “awareness of divinity.” Calvin was not out to prove God, but to state that inherent in human existence is a basic, vague, and powerful natural knowledge of God. Indeed, in Calvin’s vastly influential 1559 Institutes of the Christian Religion, he wrote, “There is within the human mind, and indeed by natural instinct, an awareness of divinity.”[5] This awareness of divinity or sensus divinitatis is “beyond dispute” according to Calvin.

What do you think about a natural knowledge of God? (I'm working on these ideas as I sketch some thoughts toward a systematic theology in light of science.)

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[1] Augustine, Confessions, 1.2.

[2] Summa 1.2.3.

[3] Pascal, Pensées #148.

[4]C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, 114.

[5] Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 1.3.1.

Yes Friends

I have indeed received much joy and encouragement from your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you, my brother, Paul to his friend Philemon (Philemon 7)

It's true that our hearts follow our dollars. Or to quote Jesus, “where our treasure is, there will our heart be also.” But here there’s another key element, “where our friends are, there will our heart be also.” That’s my paraphrase of Jesus… I mean, he liked his friends a lot… but I have to admit, it’s not exactly what the Bible says.

      What does Scripture lead us to understand as the basis of good friendship? (Advisory here: some Bible verses are coming your way because the Good Book finds friendship an important topic.)

      Three key elements of “Yes friends” do find their way into the biblical book of Proverbs. First of all, we need friends to give us support and advice: “Where there is no guidance, a nation falls, but in an abundance of counselors there is safety.” If it’s true for a nation, I'm pretty confident it works for individuals. In fact, a somewhat recent survey (from 2006) found that 1 in 4 Americans don't have anyone to confide in. That to me is the definition of a lonely life. And that's why we need "Yes friends."

      On the other hand, “Yes friends” doesn’t mean sycophants—those who will just tell us everything’s ok. That’s called a flatterer and they don’t fare too well in Proverbs. Who wants to be told “all is well” right before the tornedo arrives? Who wants compliments when a personality course correction is what’s needed? “Whoever rebukes a person will afterward find more favor than one who flatters with the tongue” (Proverbs 28:23).

      Though not a Christian—for one thing, he lived before the New Testament or Jesus existed—the philosopher Aristotle had some pretty good things to say about friendship. He philosophized that friendship isn’t just about people we like or have things to offer us, but that friends seek the Good together. As Paul wrote rather rhapsodically, about four hundred years later, in agreement with Aristotle, love “does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth” (1 Corinthians 13:6). Yet one more reason that flatterers make us feel giddy for a while, but also prove to be pathetic companions.

      Finally and most importantly, our friendship—or intimate community—begins to define us, “Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools suffers harm” (Proverbs 13:20). We become who we hang out with.

      When we get in the company of those who support your deep, true yeses, we come to our truest selves, and we realize our dreams, the important dreams—the one God puts in your heart, the ones where passion meets mission. That’s why I want yes friends.

A Note on Why I Do Theology

My first great theological mentor was the pastor during my college years, Earl Palmer. Actually, my “college years” were my first years as a Christian. So I learned by Theological ABCs at the same time I began to take steps as what is now called “emerging young adulthood.”

      During those sermons in the sanctuary of First Presbyterian Church of Berkeley, I heard Earl declare (and everything in the pulpit is an enthusiastic declaration for him): 

Every Christian is a theologian! As soon as you answer the question, ‘What do you believe?” you are a theologian. You’re either a good theologian or a bad one, but you’re a theologian!

      And ever since that time, I’ve yearned to be in that “good” category. I’ve also wanted the same for as many other Christians as possible.

      In an historical sense, Earl has a crucial point: The earliest confession—found, for example, in 1 Corinthians 12:3—is “Jesus is Lord.” This statement most likely answered the question, “What do you believe?” on the way to a first-century baptism. (This letter to the churches at Corinth was written around 55 AD.) This confession of faith then expanded to not just a paragraph on Jesus as Lord, but included one before and one after. So we find the fourth century Nicene Creed outlining “the faith once delivered” (to quote Jude 1:3) on these three paragraphs—a theology structured on God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.

      And so I preach, teach, and write theology based on this threefold, and ultimately Trinitarian, framework as a means to answer the question, “What does the Christian community believe?” and therefore to help fellow followers of Jesus to become, in Earl’s words, “good theologians.”

      There will be successes in this endeavor, and of course, failure. But I would be bold enough to say (so why not say it?) that, if this theology—or one like—is done right, it should be read by all types of thoughtful Christians. This theological task is for mothers and fathers, mechanics, professors, real estate agents, morticians, plumbers, and students.

      In other words, let’s not just leave this work for the professionals, as it were, to answer the question “What do you believe?” Nonetheless, the professionals can certainly help in this crucial task.

Investing in The Yes

Jesus presented a compelling connection: “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Matthew 6:21). 

Hearts are shaped by the way we invest our dollars

            When I’ve heard that passage taught, preached, and commented on, usually—almost always—people declare, “Jesus is telling us that our internal world is the most important thing. When we care about things—when we have a heart for what matters—then we will give our money. Let’s be sure we change from the inside.”

            This thought may be comforting, or even challenging, in many ways. But it’s not what Jesus said. Notice the order: where our treasure is (first), their our heart will be also (second). It’s not “where your heart is, there will your treasure be also.” Our heart follows our dollars. Not the other way around.

            Our call in life is to say yes to what’s truly important. And what's one way to do that? The answer sounds slightly odd at first: By investing our money in it. (And I would be willing to add our time and our talents, but I’ll keep it focused for now.)

            It’s actually commonsense. If I buy a sweet bike (which I did), I’m going to take care of that bike—I’ll make sure it’s clean, that the derailleur is adjusted precisely, and that it’s appropriately locked at night and insured. That’s at least what I’m doing. Especially the latter… Because my bike was stolen out of my garage a year ago while I slept peacefully. But I digress….

            Whatever we invest our money in will be the place where our heart goes. Dollars lead the heart. And “heart” is the center of our lives—not just our emotions, but more so the will, the attitude, the way our lives are directed.

            In order to deepen our yeses, we have to invest money in what’s important. As I’ve written before, our yesese are where our passions meet God’s mission. That means that we put dollars into God’s mission, which Jesus defined as the poor, the marginal, the ones that society leaves aside because they are interesting and alluring. That requires giving to our local homeless mission, to overseas water projects, and to agencies that fight AIDS and waterborne diseases worldwide.

            As we’ve learned to define our yeses, we know even more where that money should go. If we’ve completed and know our Personal Branding Statement—or at least that’s one way to do it—we learn to invest in these things. Want to be a great percussionist? Buy a good drum set. Invest in lessons. Download music that you’ll practice with. It’s not a guarantee that you’ll get better. But when you pay those bills, when you see that drum kit, you’ll be reminded. When you start playing that beautiful new Yamaha recording custom set, you’ll sound better. And you’ll look cooler. And that will make you want to play more.

            And one hopes—at least I do for my life—that these yeses (even ones as innocuous as enjoying drums) may serve God’s mission (perhaps by leading worship, maybe by creating beautiful music). Or because I enjoy it, they may simply make me more of who God calls me to be. As the great Christian writer of old, Irenaeus, put it so well, “The glory of God is a human being fully alive.” When we invest our treasure so that our hearts follow—if we’ve done this in the right way—we become fully alive. And in that yes, God is glorified.

            There’s another component that lies close by—the “Yes friends” in our lives, those people who support our key yeses. I’ll get to that in the next post.

An Exercise in Personal Branding

How do you know what to say yes to? I offer this exercise in Personal Branding that's found in my book Say Yes to No. This exercise is based on the guideline from the world of branding that a good brand must be described in three words. It applies this principle to our personal lives. 

Begin by brainstorming. Write our every adjective, verb, or noun you’d use to represent you or how others actually describe you. (I’m stretching the rules of branding that call only for how others portray you.) What are those words? Intelligent. Self-starter. Stubborn. Funny. Spiritual. Caring. Winsome. Dynamic. Energetic.

Then chart those on the top half with words that you’d like to describe you and on the bottom half with words others use. Take a moment to observe what you’ve written. What does this say about your aspirations for yourself? How do the two lists line up?

            I’m assuming you have about twenty to thirty words. So now comes the hard part. You start saying no. Remember that branding can only use three descriptors. Take a first whack at the list. Reduce your list to about ten words. Take time: Hang with those for a few minutes. Then let them sit, and come back to them later. Maybe even tomorrow. When you do, then prioritize them. Look not only for descriptors that apply today, but also for your preferred future. What you want to become. Let the priorities determine the remaining three. Now write out those three essential, goal-defining words.

Two pieces of advice: Use a pencil so you can revise and keep the entire first list. That way you can let yourself review and revise your list. Secondly, allow yourself to lament the descriptors you’re not going to concentrate on. It’s a hard truth that some dreams will in fact never be realized.

            Read those three finalists. Meditate on them. Go back in a day or a week. You may want to make some changes. How does that “brand identity” really fit you? What will you do to deepen those characteristics? Do you need to make changes? What nos need to be stated now in order to realize these three yeses? What are the big yeses that you will work on each day? At this point, I like to recall the saying, "Some dream of success. Others wake up and do something about it." See how this branding identity defines what you do each day.

Living the Yes: Finding the Beauty of Life

Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you will be successful.

Albert Schweitzer, the Nobel Prize winner and twentieth-century humanitarian and physician

            Beauty is found in doing what we are created to do. This implies that we are created for some activities (and not for some others). It implies that there’s a God who created us good. It implies, as I’ve been writing, that we find the right time for yes.

            First of all, let me be clear: beauty can be found in following what’s truly best for you and for human flourishing generally. And I don’t think that’s more toys.

            If materialism could do it, we’d all be happy in this culture. It was the newscaster, Peter Jennings, who noted almost two decades ago, in 1997: 

when I came back to my current job and began to wander around this country again, I was struck by how many Americans, in the midst of such plenty, were hungry for something more than our vaunted consumer society could provide for them.

            Over a millennium and a half before that, the great thinker Augustine began his autobiography with this prayer, a prayer of his own discovering that looking for fame and sex and even generalized spirituality left him unsatisfied. 

You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.

            And then again there’s the French scientist and philosopher Blaise Pascal, who realized in his famous “thoughts” (that’s what the French word means in its title, Pensées) that we all seek to be happy: “By nature, we all seek happiness.” But where do we seek it? “Some seek the good in authority, some in intellectual inquiry and knowledge, some in pleasure.” 

What else does this craving [for happiness], proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself.

            So this journey of finding the time for yes leads us back to God. And when we get this right—when we say the right yeses in life (and therefore the right nos)—we find God right at the Center. That’s the Piece that brings this all together. “In Him all things hold together” as the early Christian leader, Paul, wrote to the believers at Colossae (Col. 1:17). That’s where I want my life to be found. Because there is joy, peace, power, happiness, excellence, success, and beauty. That’s life worth living.