If I Enjoy It, It Must Be Bad . . .

I recently told someone that photos of big city skylines are “like porn” to me. I immediately recognized that it was a pretty crude thing to say (which isn’t surprising; the taming of my tongue is my greatest struggle, and the old gab-box has to be slapped back down from time to time as part of my sanctification), but it also planted a weird seed of thought in my mind that germinated over the next few days.

Here’s what I started to ask myself: was there maybe something to that analogy? Was there something sinful about my love for leafing (or clicking) through pictures of Chicago, Detroit, LA, Beijing? After all, these are images of places that, according to the Scriptures, are passing away. Why do they do it for me? Was this an indicator that I was setting my eyes on “earthly things,” and not on “things above” (even though skyscrapers are both earthly and, ya know, above)? 

 

The Scripture passage in question is, of course, Colossians 3:1-3, “Since you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.  Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.”  And, given that context, it becomes quickly clear that setting our minds on “things above” does not mean having our head in the clouds, avoiding anything physical, or making sure we don’t enjoy the wonderful creation God has given us. In fact, the more we set our minds on things above, the more we’ll find them right here at ground level.

So how can I tell if my ground-level interests are harshing my piety? Well, first off, let the Scriptures themselves tell us what they mean by “earthly,” “worldly,” and “fleshly.”

Here’s a montage (provide your own power ballad):

• “Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry.” (Col 3:5)
• “You are still worldly. For since there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not worldly?” (1 Cor 3:3)
• “Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions,  envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these.” (Gal 5:19-21)

So I check my tendency to thoroughly enjoy cityscapes against these works of the flesh and worldly things. Is it leading me to anger, division, and fighting? Nope; that would be weird. Into idolatry? i.e., if I’m honest with myself, am I looking to these images for comfort that I should be receiving from God? (This isn’t as crazy a question as it may initially sound). I determine: no, I’m not.

Nor is it giving birth to lust (as would be the case with actual porn) or lust’s cousins, jealousy, greed, and covetousness. Again, this is not so far fetched; I’ve heard from several people in the last year or so, who tell me that thumbing through pictures of houses, cars, cottages, etc. online or in magazines (a seemingly innocuous practice) has led to incredible covetousness and a sense of deep discontentment. That practice, then, is sinful, insofar as it reinforces a focus on earthly things, as defined by Scripture. However, I have no real aspirations to owning a skyscraper or having a penthouse view and I don’t find myself coveting these things. Ironically, flipping through catalogs of theology books has often led me into covetousness, but looking at an impressive crop of steel, glass, and concrete buildings does not.

And I think it’s fitting that this little case study involves cities—particularly when we consider that the first city was built in direct opposition to God’s command (Gen 4:12, 16) and the next major city planning/building project was an example of full-on insubordination against the Most High (Gen 9:1; 11:4). There’s something dodgy about cities from the very beginning. Perhaps that’s why many people think of them as being full of crime and corruption, when, in reality, you find sin and corruption everywhere you find people.

But there’s good news (as always) and it’s rooted (as always) in Redemption. Sure, cities as a phenomenon got a sketchy, sinful start in the first book of the Bible . . . but check out the last book: “And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.  And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.’” (Rev 21:2-3)

You see that? God redeems the very concept of cities! As Abraham Kuyper said, “There is not one thumb-breadth of the universe about which Jesus Christ does not say, It is mine.” Remember that when you’re worried that your pastime, hobby, interest, or mode of blowing off steam might not be quite “heavenly enough” for a Christian. If it’s not causing you to sin (including coveting what others have or consuming your life and time to the point of becoming idolatrous), you are free to love things on this earth. To steal a line from my friend Dr. Michael Wittmer’s, we were created for this place; we’re earthlings, for heaven’s sake!

It's incredibly telling that Christians often have a subtle sense that “if I really enjoy it, it must be bad.” That kind of quote/unquote “puritanical thinking” comes not from the Puritans, but from the Gnostics. And the Bible straight-up condemns that kind of thinking. “If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world, why, as if you were still alive in the world, do you submit to regulations—‘Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch’ (referring to things that all perish as they are used)—according to human precepts and teachings? These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh.” (Col 2:20-23) Trying to avoid everything in the world doesnot make us immune to the pull of the world and the works of the flesh.

So enjoy the city skyline. Enjoy hiking and picking wild berries. Enjoy punk rock, hip hop, folk, or reggae. Enjoy studying history and mythology. Enjoy reading fiction and watching films. Remember: your maturity as a Christian is not measured by how miserable you are or your lack of enjoying life. People today might call that view “puritanical,” but our Puritan forebears didn’t believe that for one minute! They enjoyed good food and drink (yes, drink!, although in keeping with Col 3, they were careful to never drink to drunkenness), music, and relaxing with family and friends.

This year, may we too work hard, serve God with all our might, and acknowledge him as the giver of all good gifts, letting all good gifts cause us to return thanks and give praise.

(If you're interested in reading more on this topic, you should check out Dr. Wittmer's book Heaven Is a Place on Earth and his newest work Becoming Worldly Saints, which comes out in less than a month.)

All My Exes...

So here’s the saddest thing I’ve seen this week. I was driving up Pennsylvania Ave. yesterday and noticed a big red X on the back of a car, up ahead of me in the turn lane. Human nature being what it is, I was immediately curious what this driver was so "anti-" as to prompt him or her to feature it on the finite space of his or her back window, publicly objecting to its very existence. So I tried to inch ahead in my lane and see what it was.

I’ve always been curious about such things. Remember those tasteless stickers of cartoon Calvin (of Calvin and Hobbes fame)...er...relieving himself onto the Ford logo (or Chevy or Ohio State or whatever)? Despite being kind of crass and a blatant violation of international copyright law, they were a fascinating study in what motivates people to go on record—for the world to see—as someone who hates a particular brand, school, city, or even a group of people.

As I drove past the car in question, though, I saw that it was not a group of people but one particular person who was bearing the wrath of this driver. You know those too-cute-by-half little stick people families that people put on the back of their cars (read: minivans)? The kind that show Mom and Dad and Brother and Sister and dog and even sometimes goldfish in stick-form? Well, this car had three people on it: Mom, Dad, and a toddler I’m guessing (I drove by rather quickly). And affixed over either Mom or Dad was the big red X.

That sight killed my good mood with record speed. I began thinking about what could create such bitterness, such that using a razor blade to remove the offending person was not enough. No, this person’s sticker had to remain there with an X over them. I deemed it unlikely right off the bat that he or she had died. More likely there had been a split.  Either the father (or mother) split and left his spouse to raise the child alone, or there had been an angry, toxic split over a disagreement or series of disagreements or something and their parting had been on vicious enough terms to warrant the big red X.

In that moment, I think I would have done anything in my power to reconcile those two people—at least to the point where the X could come down. And I began thinking about whether I’ve ever been angry enough with another person to try and hold them up to public shame—to feature them X’d out (or the victim of an licensed, urinating cartoon Calvin) on the back window of my car. 

Sadly, the answer is yes.

I haven’t actually done it because it sounds like a lot of work and because seminary students and ministers have to stay above reproach and because I wouldn’t want to tip my hand that I’d been that hurt or that affected by someone else...but there have been a good (bad?) number of times when I have burned a bridge so completely that it wouldn’t have been too big a step to throw them up on my back window.

Sometimes it doesn’t take much to kickstart a conflict that will end with such a complete breaking of ties and trust. A little slight on the part of one party, blown up and bottled up by the other. A comment said in the heat of the moment. And before you know it, a big red X has been applied, if not on the back windshield, at least in the heart and mind of the offended one.

And that’s usually how the story ends. My experience is that we humans generally long for reconciliation, but are notoriously unwilling to take the first step. We want to hear someone else humble himself and apologize first. We want them to make the move to cross the chasm between us, even if we know deep down that we are the ones to blame for that chasm.

This is, in a sense, the story of Scripture. It was not a petty spat or mutual squabble that fractured our relationship with our God; it was one-sided. It was all us. We didn’t want to submit to his will. We wanted to make our own rules, find our own way, do our own thing. So we bent our wills away from his and put a big red X over the God who created, loved, and sustained us. And despite that fact, even as the Old Testament relates the unfolding and re-developing of a relationship between God and man, it’s never us who initiates it. God makes the first move—in a burning bush, on the top of a mountain, in the hearts of those he calls. Like a slighted friend or spouse, we sat in our corner, stewing, hardening our hearts all the more, unwilling to even try and make the first move.

And so Christ came to us. He took and flesh and dwelt with us. He fed us and washed our feet. He died on a cross for our sins. And, in Christ, God reconciled the world to himself. He didn’t just remove the red X we’d placed over him; he gave us a new heart so that we could remove it.

And with that new heart, we ought to approach our relationships with each other differently. When Christ has rebuilt our bridge at the cost of his very life, how can we be quick to burn our own bridge with others? How can we collect red X’s in our minds like the tick marks on the side of a WWII fighter plane? How can we be unwilling to make the first move toward repentance and reconciliation when a chasm has grown between us and a neighbor, friend, family member, or co-worker?

I've recently preached on I Corinthians 13 twice (once on a Sunday morning and once at a funeral) and been twice reminded that love keeps no record of wrongs. And as Jesus reminded Simon the Pharisee, whoever has been forgiven much, loves much. When I’ve been forgiven a record like mine, it makes no sense to X out people based on their record with me. I pray that God will continue to give all of us, more and more, the same mind that was in Christ Jesus and give us the grace and perseverance to carry on loving one another.

Do you have a red X you need to remove? If so, the best way is to ask God to do it. And while you’re asking, let him know that you might put another one on without even thinking about it, and you’d like him to take that one off too. And the next one. The good news is that someday, we’ll run out of red X’s.