Hearing the Music

Not Made for Fame

I hope that this letter finds you well fed and in a place of contentment following Thanksgiving. In last week's Friday letter we reflected a bit on some of the difficulties the Holidays can bring. I pray that yours was a time of joy.  If it was or is hard, I pray that you are finding Jesus' presence in the empty place.

For some reason this week I am thinking fame and its opposite, an ordinary life. Perhaps it is holiday movies hitting the cinema or maybe it is the chance for celebrity immortalization in "The Game" set to be played tomorrow, but most of us want to leave a mark on the world. We long for the adulation of others. We want to be seen as special, to be known and loved by all. And why shouldn't we long for this? After all, we live in an age where anyone can write and publish whatever they want to the web. People with an iPhone can become influencers and TikTok celebs. Our young athletes are coddled and celebrated. Maybe we can have it all?

But do we really want this? After all, happiness does not seem to be commensurate with "success". People regularly reach the top only to find it empty, or lonely. How often do we read biographies like the one recently authored by Brittany Spears that speak to the absolute misery that came with fame. How often do the ones that seem to be universally loved in truth feel unequivocally lonely? Sarah Condon in her own reflections on fame says the following, "In truth, we were not made for fame. Being famous ultimately means being responsible for other people’s lives. It means taking on the pressures of the world. And it means being loved by people who do not really love you. Because they do not really know you. And this is the worst kind of love to be offered."

Surely this is why God's word encourages a different attitude.  To the scribe Baruch in the book of Jeremiah, God says, "And do you seek great things for yourself? Seek them not ..." (Jer. 45:5). David, who of course ascended to the throne, speaks beautifully of humble contentment in Psalm 131:1–2, "O LORD, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother;  like a weaned child is my soul within me." Perhaps this is the secret to Thanksgiving?  As we resist the allurement of having it all and rest in the enjoyment of the ordinary, we find that are hearts are filled with real joy. We find that we are loved as we are known. We find that each of us is indeed special in our own place.   

In the book of Ecclesiastes, Solomon explores these same questions of success, fame and happiness. Early in the book he says that he had reached the top, he achieved all, denied himself nothing, and found it to be only emptiness, a chasing after the wind. (cf. Eccl. 2:9-11). In his wisdom, Solomon sought the secret to happiness. Repeatedly what he found is that simple contentment that returns thanks to God for good gifts enjoyed will result in true happiness. Here is how he says it in Ecclesiastes 5, "Behold, what I have seen to be good and fitting is to eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of his life that God has given him, for this is his lot. Everyone also to whom God has given wealth and possessions and power to enjoy them, and to accept his lot and rejoice in his toil—this is the gift of God. For he will not much remember the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart. (vv. 18-20.  cf. also 2:24–26, 3:9–13, 22, 8:15). I pray that each of our hearts would be occupied with this joy of Lord!

Your Formidable Self

In the coming weeks, many of us will be gathering with family, enjoying meals, traditions, and making new memories. But let's be honest, with family also comes known brokenness, stress and more emotional triggers than we really want. Why is that?

Author Henri Nouwen*  speaks of the effect family has on all of us from a very personal point of view, that of our younger self. 

“A part of you was left behind very early in your life: the part that never felt completely received. It is full of fears. Meanwhile, you grew up with many survival skills. But you want your self to be one. So you have to bring home the part of you that was left behind. That is not easy, because you have become quite a formidable person, and your fearful part does not know if it can safely dwell with you. Your grown-up self has to become very childlike—hospitable, gentle, and caring—so your anxious self can return and feel safe.”  

Even in the best of families, because of the the sin of the world and the sin within us, we grow up with warped approaches to life in select areas. This leaves us on the one hand anxious, fearful and vulnerable, while on the other hand due to coping mechanisms and instinctive survival skills, we have become "quite formidable". In saying this, Nouwen is referring to relational styles that we learn to operate with. Some of us are aggressive, hurting others before they hurt us. Some of us withdraw, putting up protective walls so that we don't get hurt. We make vows and agreements with ourselves never to let this happen to us again or not to put ourselves in a vulnerable position. In short, we do become quite formidable. As Nouwen speaks of it here, part of the way forward is to be re-parented. Think of what Jesus says in Matthew 18, "And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. " (vv. 2, 3) Certainly here Jesus is addressing issues of pride and humility, but Jesus is also recognizing that we did leave a part of us behind in childhood and he is inviting us into the arms of a loving heavenly Father to be made whole in our adult selves. It is as we surrender like little children to our Heavenly Father that we learn to grieve our losses and see that broken little child morph into our adult self with grace and tenderness. Perhaps then we can face our fears and anxieties with both sadness and hope, with vulnerability and courage

* Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom

Photo by Nadine Shaabana on Unsplash

Labor Unto Glory

In Ephesians, we’ve been considering some of the roles and relationships that make up our vocation. We all long for rich meaning in our work and in our lives, yet we are often frustrated by the mundane and monotonous tasks we face each day. More than that, sin and conflict and tragedy creep in and drive a wedge between us and the people that make up the fabric of our lives this side of heaven. In the midst of this, how do we find God-glorifying meaning in our often-disappointing work and vocations?

Steven Garber, in his book Visions of Vocation, says this: “The word vocation is a rich one, having to address the wholeness of life, the range of relationships and responsibilities. Work, yes, but also families, and neighbors, and citizenship, locally and globally – all of this and more is seen as vocation, that to which I am called as a human being, living my life before the face of God. It is never the same word as occupation, just as calling is never the same word as career. Sometimes, by grace, the words and the realities they represent do overlap, even significantly; sometimes, in the incompleteness of life in a fallen world, there is not much overlap at all.”

There’s a lot in there, and even more that could be said about our vocation as Christians. Romans 12:1 calls us to “present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.” How do we take our entire vocation, each of the various tasks and roles and relationships and spheres we’ve been placed into by God, and surrender them to him as worship? Here are some resources I have found helpful:

• The album Work Songs by The Porter’s Gate, some of which we have sung at Christ Church. My favorites are “We Labor Unto Glory” and “Father, Let Your Kingdom Come”.

• The album Here Are My Hands by A New Liturgy, is a mixture of songs and prayers designed for reclaiming your commute. The first half (for commuting to work) helps you surrender your work to God, and the second half (for commuting home from work) helps you reflect on the day and practice confession and forgiveness when necessary.

• Every Moment Holy, which is available as physical books and downloadable liturgies, offers prayers on a variety of everyday pieces of life (like work, changing diapers, preparing meals, medical providers, and more) to help you offer each moment to God.

• A “Prayer for Vocations” by Steven Garber (which you can both read and watch), helps us pray that God would “Give us eyes to see that our work is holy to you, O Lord, even as our worship this day is holy to you.”

The simple act of surrendering the work of our hands in worship to God will not fix all the frustrations of life in a fallen world. But it will reorient us to the ways that God is faithfully working in all of it, perhaps most of all in us, to conform us more and more into the image of Christ. Pastor Andrew will be preaching on Ephesians 6:5-9 this Sunday, which touches on some of these themes of honoring God wherever he places us. I look forward to worshipping together!