TheHighCalling.org: Attitude

The Hard Work of Reconciliation (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 06:00:00 GMT

A terrific example of the church in action is the twelve step program. Originally, the steps were presented by Alcoholics Anonymous, but they have now been successfully introduced to many types of recovery programs. My encounters with people who attend regular sessions and take the steps seriously have shown these programs to be incredibly healthy. Of course, they’re healthy from an addiction standpoint. But there's more to it than that. Emotionally, they’re healthy. Spiritually, they’re healthy. These programs set the stage for real transformation to take place.

Recently, a friend shared his experience. His stepdaughter had been damaged by parental addiction and divorce. It had been ten years since my friend had any contact with his stepdaughter. Then came a letter. She poured out to my friend how he was the only real father she had ever known, and she wanted him in her life.

My buddy was excited and apprehensive at the same time. Even though his stepdaughter was an adult, my friend needed to get the okay from her mother before he did anything. To his great relief, his ex-wife thought it was a good idea to reach out to his stepdaughter. Then the hard work of reconciliation began.

Focusing on two steps from the twelve step program, my friend planned how he would go about his first face to face meeting with his stepdaughter in ten years. He looked at steps eight and nine:

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed and become willing to make amends to them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

After making the thousand mile journey to visit his stepdaughter, my buddy was in the home of a young wife with her own baby girl. He confessed to her the wrongs he had committed that had such a strong impact on her life. Then he asked her if there was anything he had left out. She let him know that there were some things he failed to mention. After a difficult heart-felt exchange and considerable emotional toil, there came a point where my friend felt he could ask for forgiveness.

His stepdaughter granted that forgiveness. After a decade, the healing process could begin. My friend had his daughter back, and emptiness he’d carried with him for years was replaced with joy.

This is how Jesus taught us to relate to one another. Forgive one another. Love one another. In this example, I see the church and how it functions at its relational best.

Not My Job (Audio)

Howard E. Butt, Jr. — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

In an old sitcom, the running gag was a mechanic saying to his boss, "It's not my job." The expression became popular for shirking responsibility. When people wanted to avoid work, they would say, "It's not my job."

It's just the opposite with worry. Worry is the thing we're supposed to leave alone. Instead, we make it our job.

Jesus said firmly, "Don't worry about tomorrow." He compared worry to weeds that spring up and choke out the calming truth of God's word. He asked, "Who, by worrying, can add a single hour to his life?" He told us to replace worry with prayer and with trust.

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. Not only is worry no laughing matter—it really is not our job . . . in the high calling of our daily work.

Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life . . . But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (Matt. 6:27-33)

Joy of Forgiving (Audio)

Howard E. Butt, Jr. — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Don't let anyone tell you forgiveness is easy. It's not.Christians know we should give up anger and resentment and hostility. But like leeches, we attach to dark emotions and feed on them. And feel righteous doing it! After all: we've been hurt.

Workplaces can be bruising—political and performance driven. We work the system, jockey for position, push for perks. We want recognition. But in the competition, we hurt and we get hurt. And the question is: how do we recover?

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. Alan Paton says "When a deep injury is done to us, we never recover until we forgive." Forgiveness is hard. But life without forgiveness is harder still—in the high calling of our daily work.

"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive , and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." (Luke 6:37-38)

Working and Growing Backwards (Personal Reflection)

Jonathan Dodson — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Mark Twain humorously noted that it would be better if humans were born at the age of 80 and worked backwards. This backwards growth would afford us all the wisdom we would need to navigate the challenges of life. Another great American author F. Scott Fitzgerald picked up this idea in a short story called The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, recently popularized by the film starring Brad Pitt and Kate Blanchett.

It is an interesting idea and curious story. It seems all of us are short on wisdom, but as the Curious Case proves, even being born 80 doesn't solve all our problems. Still, what if we approached work, family, and leisure with the wisdom of our elders?

Life-Maturing Wisdom

In his book The Making of a Leader, Robert Clinton identifies six stages of a leader. The stages include: Sovereign Foundations, Inner Life Growth, Ministry (or Vocational) Maturing, Life Maturing, Convergence, Afterglow. Clinton's comments regarding our "Life Maturing" stage got me thinking about growing backwards.

He notes that this phase of life, typically occurring in our 40s, begins with intentional and extended reflection on life. This period of reflection is often forced onto us by life circumstances, a major conflict, growing children, or life crisis. What would happen if we began to cultivate these patterns of reflection at an earlier age? What kind of people, families, or communities would emerge? We might become more concerned about how God can shape us through conflict and life—and less concerned about merely navigating our conflicts and challenges. Clinton writes:

During Ministry [or Vocational] Maturing, we attempt to constructively navigate conflict; during Life Maturing, we instead tend to focus on what our conflicts say about us. Overall, relationship with God starts to become far more important to us than ministry success [or workplace success]. Ironically, as we begin to care less about the results of our ministry [or work], our effectiveness, satisfaction, and attractiveness as ministers [or employees] suddenly begins to grow. Our lives become an object of imitation. We are not merely appreciated for our work, we are admired as people.

Reflecting, Not Just Navigating, Through Conflict

Are you driven by work, family, success? Are you more concerned with managing conflict than being sanctified by conflict? How can you begin to care less about results of vocation and more about discipleship through vocation? If we want to imitate Christ, periods of reflection and prayer will be important. Imagine if we became so obsessed with God's agenda in our conflicts, challenges, and vocations that others appreciate our Christlikeness more than our "work."

Reflecting through conflict instead of merely navigating it is not a popular process. In general, our culture values success, results, and output over sanctification, maturity, and reflection. Our busy lives run against the grain of such extended times of reflection. Turning around is hard. However, the result of becoming more process-oriented and more reflective will lead us into more fruitful living, parenting, and community building.

You could start by taking a weekly walk in the woods, alone. Go to a coffee shop without a laptop or PDA. Refuse to answer emails for a day—and journal instead. Have extended discussions with your friends and spouses about what God wants to teach each of you through the challenges and conflicts of your lives.

Reflection is inspiring. Cultivate time for it. Prayer can draw us deeper into communion with God who wants to fill us with wisdom.

Living With Ambiguity (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Tue, 19 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

We long for clarity. If we just know the rules or what's expected of us, we can function within that framework. Really, we act like it's that simple. Too often, clarity is our guiding purpose in life. Our relationships are based on clarity. Work is precise. Politics is unequivocal. And church provides all the answers. Just give us the road map, and we follow it.

Unfortunately, that's not how life works. We spend much of our time dealing with the ambiguity of life and the uncertainty of what we're to do next. The black and white choices of everyday living turn into a mixture of grays, ranging from bright silver to dead charcoal.

In the Old Testament, Moses received the Decalogue at Sinai. The Israelites built a life around those rules. The Law became the focus, and justification came through the Law.

Jesus gives us something more than law. He gives us love. But it comes with less definition, less clarity. The lessons Jesus taught came in parables. They were stories that appear as ambiguous statements, but they're rooted in love.

The faithful read Jesus' parables and see not only the obvious meaning but also the deeper spiritual issues that Jesus is referring to. Others outside the faith don't see this. In the parable of the Sower, Jesus tells us that will be the case.

"though seeing, they may not see;
though hearing, they may not understand."

Today, many atheists demonstrate the truth of this statement. From Bertrand Russell to Christopher Hitchens, the arguments of atheist "intellectuals" demonstrate a fundamental misunderstanding of Christian belief. Sometimes, their arguments are just shallow. They don't know what they've never experienced, so they make assumptions. Reading their accounts can be a bit humorous to a believer. If you've never experienced something, it's difficult to explain to those who have had a profound experience why their experience is not valid.

We find ourselves today where we've always have been. Faced with the increasing complexities of life, we long for clarity. We're given faith. As we sort through ambiguity, we're focused on hope.

Short-Attention-Span Prayer (Personal Reflection)

William Griffin — Sun, 17 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Some years ago, Alan King conducted a series of interviews meant to be an oral history of comedians, especially stand-ups. In conversation with Jerry Seinfeld, King, a rather splendid comedian himself, said to his guest, “Unlike other comics today, you work clean.” By that he meant that Seinfeld didn't use the F-word or its correlatives in his routines. But later in the same interview, both used the J-word (Jesus) in a casual, expletival sort of way.

At the massive insistence of censorious Christians, traditional television networks have been bleeping the F-word right along. Oddly, they're no longer bleeping the J-word as an expletive, and the Christian audience isn't uttering a peep of protest.

As a lifelong member of the publishing community, I'm a libertarian when it comes to the use of words. Hence, I wouldn't restrict the use of the F-word or the J-word in whatever context, holy or unholy. But a personal problem arises. My whole spiritual life has been based on the word Jesus.

In Catholic elementary school, I was taught to do a head bow, albeit a modest one, every time I read or heard the name Jesus; in sixty years I haven't missed once.

I spent eight happy years as a Jesuit (member of the Society of Jesus). The religious order did nothing to exaggerate devotion to the holy name, but the name of Jesus was always surrounded with great warmth and affection.

In the New Testament, there was Philippians 2:10: “at the name of Jesus every knee should bend.” These words are now thought to come from a very early Christian hymn that was gaining popularity in Philippi.

In the fifth or sixth century, there was the Jesus prayer. As a prayer, it seems to have its source in Matthew 20, where the blind cry out twice, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us” (30-31). As a repetitive prayer, it gets encouragement from Jesus at the end of John, where he says to the apostles, “Up to this point, my dear friends, you haven't used my name when asking the Father for something. Use it; it works; it really works” (16:23-24).

In the fifteenth or sixteenth century, the litany of the holy name appeared; in it Jesus is invoked as, among other things, father of the poor, treasure of the faithful, good shepherd, true light, eternal wisdom, infinite goodness, our way and our life.

When all is said and done, “the name of Jesus is at the heart of Christian prayer” (Catholic Catechism, 1997). Indeed we could do worse than spend the rest of our frenzied prayer lives exploring the wonders of this holy name, but it wouldn't be easy.

In a microwave, toaster-oven sort of world, as Joan Rivers has pointed out, we stand in front of our electronic cookers, urging them to frialate faster.

In a downsizing, right-sizing sort of world, corporations make themselves leaner and their workers meaner; they have to do not only their own but the work of those who've just been laid off.

In a Jiffy Lube, SpeeDee Oil Change sort of world, we meet ourselves coming and going, but could the saints do any better?

Could John of the Cross contemplate the dark night of the soul and go through a revolving door at the same time? Could Teresa of Avila step onto an escalator in her interior castle without messing up her meditation? Could Francis of Assisi, so prone to trance, pray ecstatically and ransom captives at the same time?

Dumb questions all, but for those of us who are working stiffs in a Times Square, Tianamen Square sort of world, these examples show how difficult it is to work and pray. After all, it's a Right Guard, Ban-Roll-On sort of world we sweat in. A Bird's Eye, Burger King sort of world we eat in. A Google, Wikipedia sort of world we do our research in. A Nytol, No-Doz sort of world we try to sleep in.

However uttered, in whatever form, the sweet name of Jesus may be the last, best, short-attention-span prayer the contemporary Christian can utter from Monday through Saturday.

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.”

An afterthought:

Every blasphemy bothers me, unsettles me to the point of wanting to deck the blasphemer; alas, that would be breaking one commandment to defend another. But to maintain some sort of spiritual balance, I've had to come up with a mischievous if mystical thought. Suppose that, when the J-word is tossed around with reckless abandon during the course of a come-dressed-as-you-are bunkhouse brawl, Jesus isn't offended. Not only that, suppose he comes, as he comes to all those who utter his name in moments of need or praise. Is that so far-fetched? If the New Testament is any indication, Jesus has done some of his best work with unpromising people in questionable surroundings.

Living Water in our Daily Work (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Tue, 12 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Fountains are fun to watch. Some appear to dance when their timed streams of water shoot into the air. Others gush large flows of water that cascade down rocks or walls. They are mesmerizing and entertaining.

In the ancient world, fountains were viewed differently. They were vital resources that provided water for consumption, bathing, and healing. Ancient people were probably more in touch with the vital nature of water on a daily basis, as are people in underdeveloped countries today. In the U.S., we take water for granted because we can turn on a faucet and get water. It's very commonplace.

Springs engage us differently than do fountains. Seeping out from rocks, springs remind us of the natural course of water. They offer a sense of mystery and frailty. We're reminded that springs can dry up and disappear. We're reminded that water holds mystery for us.

Fountains and springs, these are the images presented in the Bible. Fountains are more common in the Old Testament. The Hebrew meaning of fountain is "source" or "source of flow." In the New Testament, the Greek meaning of fountain focuses on "springs" and "gush of the water." The Greek language doesn’t convey the same sense as the Hebrew.

For the Israelites, a fountain is an appropriate metaphor for their faith. God can be appropriately compared to a fountain, the source of living water. It is that expression, “living water,” which is conveyed in John 4:10-11. In Greek as well as English, it takes two words to explain this idea. The notion of a living source is not inherent in the idea of a fountain.

Just as the ancient Greek and Jewish cultures had different experiences of water as a metaphor, we today have a different view of water. Unless we’re someplace where we have to go a day without water, we don’t really feel the same visceral connection that the ancients did. Intellectually, we understand the biblical language of fountains and springs, but our identity isn’t tied to that understanding.

Along with the Greeks, we may share the mystery of the spring. That’s about as far as it goes. We find water readily available to us, and dipping into a public fountain to bathe is definitely frowned upon. So it’s important to search out new metaphors to explain our faith experience. New metaphors connect our everyday behavior with the source of all we do in the high calling of our daily work.

Describing God as the fountain of holiness doesn’t provide for us the same powerful understanding that it did for the ancient Hebrews—without God there is no existence. At TheHighCalling.org, we long to convey the same idea. Our daily work, our daily lives matter to God because he is the source of all we do. Without God, all of our efforts are meaningless. To God be the purpose, the resolve, and the admiration in all we do.

Growing Through an Economic Winter (Personal Reflection)

John Poch — Sun, 10 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

I have a little garden plot in the alley behind our house where I try to grow a few vegetables throughout the year. In the Lubbock winter, it is hard to grow much of anything, but I usually have some lettuces struggling and beets or garlic maturing for a spring harvest. I discovered, by accident, that spinach can weather temperatures into the teens, though it grows mighty slow during the winter. I had tried planting a few rows of it early one December and after a particularly hard freeze, most of it looked wiped out. I thought I'd just let it die and replant come March.

But there were about eight little seedlings that somehow survived. So instead of digging them up, I ignored them—thinking they'd die as the others had. But they held on and when spring arrived, they took off, those eight little plants. We ate spinach for weeks, even giving some away to friends.

During the cold, dry, and less sunny days of January and February, those spinach plants were establishing their roots, entrenching themselves and building below the surface. When the hard season was over and the spring rains and sunny March and April arrived, they burgeoned with the leaves fatter and greener than I'd grown in the best weather.

No soldier goes directly into battle without training and teaching, though he may be eager to defend his country. No lawyer appears before the high courts before she serves as a clerk and works smaller cases, little by little establishing a foundation in jurisprudence. And even if a soldier, lawyer, or a person in any other profession “pays his dues” and “proves himself,” there will be setbacks, periods that don't seem exactly fruitful.

But say your work does flourish; it could be too early and another cold snap could wipe you out. Last year on the high plains, we had a warm late winter when the trees went into early bloom followed by a hard freeze. There was no fruit, no pecans to be found in Lubbock or the surrounding counties.

As a writer in academia under the pressure of “publish or perish,” I only need go through a time when the words are not coming or are not getting published, and I begin to think that I'm in trouble. But even when it seems I might not be productive, I know deep down that if I'm careful, the words, sentences, and the wide-reaching roots of language are there under the surface, maturing, readying themselves for that time of harvest. I submitted my book to publishers and contests for ten years before it was finally published. My second followed four years later. My third collection of poems is following only a year after. I was working (mostly!) all along, establishing those roots below the surface, and the fruit of my labors finally came to the point of harvest. And now? Winter may be around the corner, so I need to recognize that periods of growth come in cycles. If the season is right, I am ready to plant again, do what I can, and let God and nature do their more powerful work.

Are you in a physical or spiritual or economic winter? Is the weather of your workplace an inhospitable climate where little can grow? Do what you can but realize that there are things beyond your control. Weather, for instance. Hold on. Pray. Let your faith establish itself, and let your “roots” go deeper, realizing that it might not be time to flourish. Let suffering and patience produce perseverance producing character producing hope and a bounty that you and others can feast on.

Redefining Attitude (Bible Reflection)

Al Hsu — Sun, 03 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

In the business world, "attitude" is a bit of a buzzword. One's mental attitude, whether positive or negative, healthy or unhealthy, is said to be a key factor in the success of our work projects and professional relationships. You've seen the motivational posters:

•   "A positive attitude causes a chain reaction of positive thoughts, events, and outcomes."
•   "A positive attitude is a powerful force."
•   "Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference."

While all this seems to be helpful, it is not distinctively Christian. In fact, the emphasis on an internal positive attitude can devolve into mere selfism, since it doesn't require dependence on God or others.

On the other hand, at my high school church camp, someone would occasionally yell, "Attitude check!" and all of us would respond, "Praise the Lord!" In the Christian world, it's often assumed that the proper Christian attitude is one of always being happy or joyful in the Lord—sometimes in seeming denial of challenging realities. That view also seems somewhat insufficient. Attitude has to be more than just happy feelings.

Is attitude primarily an issue of one's temperament, personality, emotion, or cognitive thinking? Is it just a mood? Can we cheer up and have a better attitude—or is it something more than that?

Our modern notions of an attitude don't seem to show up very much in Scripture. Bible versions only have a handful of references to words that are translated as "attitude."

1) Phroneo – to be like-minded

This is the most familiar, perhaps, and it occurs in Philippians 2:5, where Paul exhorts his readers that "Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus" (NIV) or that "In your relationships with one another, have the same attitude of mind Christ Jesus had" (TNIV). The Greek word used here is a form of the verb phroneo, which is translated in various contexts as "have in mind" or "being like-minded" with someone else. The root word usually relates to thinking and planning with an intellectual focus.

2) Ennoia – what takes place in the mind

This word is also translated as attitude. Ennoia is in the same family as nous (meaning "mind" or "understanding") and noema ("thought"). You may be more familiar with the related Greek word metanoia, meaning "change of mind" or "repentance." Ennoia is en + noia, or "in the mind," referring to what takes place in the mind. This shows up in 1 Peter 4:1 ("Therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourself also with the same attitude") and Hebrews 4:12 ("For the word of God . . . judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart").

3) Pneuma – the spirit of your mind

Bible translators have sparingly rendered this word as "attitude." Pneuma is most frequently translated as "spirit." So in Ephesians 4:23, where Paul calls us to "be made new in the attitude of your minds," that "attitude" would more literally be rendered as "the spirit of your minds."

In each of these cases, the emphasis is more mental and cognitive rather than emotional. It is something we think, not merely something we feel. Furthermore, there seems to be a strong connection between one's mental thinking and one's moral character and activity. Our attitude should be like Christ's, not merely in being mentally humble, but in taking the nature of a servant and being obedient to death (Phil. 2:7-8). It's significant that both the Philippians 2 usage of phroneo and the 1 Peter 4 use of ennoia connect a Christian's attitude with Christ's suffering.

If anything, Scripture's discussion of attitude is less about projecting a positive outlook on life and much more concerned with having a willingness to suffer as Christ suffered. For the Christian, attitude is directly connected with action, especially in taking on service-oriented, sacrificial acts.

As Max De Pree said in Leadership Is an Art, leadership means bearing the pain of the organization. That's a more biblical sense of what it means to have a Christlike attitude. Having a good attitude doesn't mean that we are chipper and happy in the face of adversity. A Christlike attitude means that because Jesus suffered, we too are willing to suffer. We do not avoid pain and difficulty; rather, we resolve to face it and bear it on behalf of others, because we know that it will serve the common good.

For the Christian, attitude is more than singing "Don't Worry, Be Happy" or "Hakuna Matata." A biblical, Christian attitude is a commitment to being more like Christ