The Weakness of Happiness

The child that avoids confrontation by sitting with teacher.

The freshman that avoids upperclassman hallways.

The professional that avoids the venomous receptionist.

I have lived them all and know sloth when I see it.

Sloth is a sickness

Humid, it came in a middle school-aged sweat on a weekday morn years ago. Having been pursued by an unrecognizable few on ten-speeds to the point of imminent pain, I awoke abruptly to that feeling we term relief, which in minutes gave way to the crushing realization that my life actually resembled my nightmare. I had become an unwitting accomplice in embarrassing an unstable older student and he threatened me regularly with retribution. That dark morning in my bedroom is yet marked as the point I discovered that the decisions I made could lead to external and therefore internal imbalance—that feeling we term stress, the great unifier of time and people.

Waking yesterday, internal vertigo came on cue before coffee and without nightmarish persuasion. What did I fear? Nothing and yet everything. What was there not to fear when each day held potential for terror: moral err, depression, the encroaching wicked world and death. And I, being a Christian and a preacher-defender of God's Word would surely find myself once more at odds with popular opinion and the neighboring heathens; and therefore ostracized and misunderstood as a bigot to someone. If I could not live happy with peace of mind, why wake up?

No Pain, No Gain

Then I heard the phrase over the radio: spiritual athletics. It was a term used to describe the view of some fourth and fifth century saints. They saw the spirit as worthy of training as the body. And as the physical self required resistance to grow strong, so the spirit required struggle; it was for this reason they chose to live in the desert of Sinai, the epitome of struggle. But I am sure you would rather skip through a field of daisies right?

So let us skip in the field of daisies! Just be sure to put on your sneakers first, as they allow for the best skipping. Wait, no sneakers? That is a shame since the best tennis shoes will cost a pretty penny. So off to work you go, and if your luck is as good as mine has been, your overseeing manager will be a slave- driving psychopath that will make tranquility a near impossibility. Suddenly bliss-filled sessions of skipping seem less attractive when they can only take place during select late night and weekend hours. Maybe that is why Jesus never promised happiness—he would have been lying.

Get Right or Get Left

The word we now translate as “happy” first meant “lucky” or “favored by fortune” when originally used by the Greeks and later by the Europeans—happiness is a condition of circumstance. Our hope as Christians is not that our circumstances will make us feel “happy” or “lucky” but that we would find joy in the immutable, unchanging nature of God. A preoccupation with being happy is an obsession with a non-existent world, like the millions of poor souls in 2009 that reported they would have rather stayed watching a particular movie than return to their troublesome lives in this world.

“In this world you will have trouble” said Jesus in John 16:33, so to not expect trouble in it would be to not expect contact in American Football; life is a collision sport.

My cousin having recently returned from a military boot camp in Texas, recounts the trying details of his experience to the surprise of many. But when I think of it now, I wonder what would be more of a shock: to hear that his training was a daily hell or that it was the most delightful vacation of his life. The military trains the minds and bodies of our men and women in the anticipation of their engaging a fearsome enemy. Do we not have an enemy in the spiritual realm that requires comparable vigilance? And how much can a life of ease help us in completion of our campaign against the evil one and his forces? Very little, I am afraid.

“Pain is Temporal but Victory is Forever”

-Jeremy H.

There are usually two extremes suggested for solving the issue of spiritual sloth: complete surrender to reckless masochism or reckless hedonism, neither is what I suggest nor what the Bible proposes. Let us look back to John for an answer down the middle path.

“In this world you will have trouble” Jesus said in John 16:33. Taken as-is the quote may give a believer legitimate reason for fear or hopelessness, when in actuality it is simply a sour pickle in the middle of a sandwich. Thankfully, the scripture sits between: “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace“ and “But take heart! I have overcome the world.” The answer to stress is to see all trouble in the context of Christ. He is our source of strength in this world gym.

As long as Satan holds a grudge and people with free will walk the earth, potential struggles and troubles walk with them but that need not trouble us. Struggle may be an expectation of athletics but victory is a promise for those in Christ Jesus.

“Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.”

• 1 Corinthians 9:25

In Him,

Jean-Marc

The Inconsistent Biblios Bubble: The Leaky Roof of Character

 "Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up."-James 4:10. 

Do you deserve to have been Christ's cause for sacrifice? Bless You because I do not. I am the roof of an old house: when the rain comes, I find new leaks in my character all the time. But that is the entire point: to realize that we can not fix ourselves, something must be brought to the table that we can not bring. Thank God for His skills in carpentry-Jean-Marc

I Have A Name Part 1

 

It was my first time in a psychiatric facility,

And medical Internship was bound to be interesting. Being just a new visitor there(thankfully), I met with the good doctor in charge and received the official tour from a staff nurse: offices, cafeteria, group sessions, all as one would expect, then she stopped by one of therapeutic rooms, allowing me to peek inside.

Everyone in the room seemed engaged in some activity:board games, television, and conversation but then there was her –— middle-aged, sun-reddened skin, shoulder length dirty blond hair; she was sadly involved in the business of looking at nothing in particular.

"That's "Rosie" ", my guide began with a smile "she has an interesting story, she is one of our Greyhound therapy cases".

Apparently aware that I was ignorant of the reference, she grew more serious in her elaboration: "That's when the family puts the patient on a bus one-way and says 'forget who we are' "

Tired of Being a Good Soldier

Like a scene out of a blockbuster,

Imagine if you will:

You are an experienced soldier walking along the dry desert plain of ancient Turkey, back then just another part of the Roman Empire. It seems as though the parched ground cracks under your feet with every new step.

You are the desert oddity, properly adorned with all of the accouterments of battle: all golden helmet, armor, belt, sword and boots which bear the symbols of your homeland: the fierce lion and the majestic eagle. And unfortunately with you also is the burdensome shield you have been dragging for miles since leaving camp.

The sun's heat has turned your costume into a golden pressure cooker. The sweat pouring from your head stings your eyes yet provides the only relief of the day.

"Seems more like detriment than defense", you say to comrades, wiping your brow.

But when there is no response, you turn your head and helmet right, and then left — no one, as far as you can see, for miles.

"How long have I been traveling like this? Where is everybody?"

Then,
'Pfft!' 

It sounds like a bird crash landed into your shield but being a smart one , you know that not much flies in the desert except for vultures, and this was definitely not a vulture. You cautiously peek from behind the shield to investigate.

'Pfft!' 

The second one was aimed at your head  — " Fire? Arrows of fire", you surmise as the blaze builds off the top of your shield, your now beautiful and useful shield.
"Where about are they?” you anxiously question, considering all visible options.
Frozen and squatted into your defensive stance, you stand cautious, as not to move a single muscle.
"Just wait for it".

My Soul, My Self

My mind is about to explode,

The Lord has just made a bit of Truth -- which is himself, clear to me.

Walking along in Queens I was, from the pharmacy when I had to cross the street at the same time as a rowdy group of preteens. With my music on and my destination "locked in", my mind, idle yet free-wheeling,  made it's subconscious and therefore unsolicited commentary:

"Look, at this boy here -- kind of heavy and very loud -- must be making up for his insecurities"
It continued: "And that girl here of this type and that boy there of that  race, interesting they are in deep conversation. What could they have in common?"


But like a driver recognizing he had dozed off, I jumped back in the driver's seat and steered my mind to more positive terrain:


"We're all special in God's sight, Jesus loves the little children, all the children...etc."


But in the midst of this, I then asked the most dangerous question conceived, the kind if asked by a preteen is usually followed with  a "well...um...it's like..." from their parents and other well meaning adults: "Why?"


"Why can I not understand everything about a person just by looking at them?"


"Why can I not classify people by their group, race or portrayed image?"


The answer: 'Because you can't judge a book by it's cover' and 'God is into variety', no offense,  worked for us as kids, just how milk once satisfied our hunger, but nowadays as a meal --it is weak. But thankfully the truth is much meatier:


 “I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb."(Jere 1:5)


The word in Hebrew, we translate as "knew" means more than just knowledge on a subject, if you turn back to Genesis you see it was written: "Adam knew Eve and she conceived". The word describes an intimate bond and relationship. Imagine a wife resting her head upon her husband's chest after a particularly difficult day at work as he simply holds her; and you have the picture: knowing something deeper than skin and body parts -- the soul.


God had an intimate relationship with our souls before we came to be. Before you were born, the Almighty had already mapped out the person whom you would be and he passionately loved that person.


I believe it was C.S. Lewis who said it best: "You are a soul, you have a body"


Your soul is you: your personality, what sets you ablaze and what frightens you, what makes you laugh so hard you can hardly speak--it is you, and God created it -- a divinely custom work.


Like an item covered by box and wrapping paper or a letter encased by an envelope are our souls in our bodies: You can not determine content by simply studying the container in which it is kept.


I am black but my soul has no color, I am Haitian but my soul comes from the same homeland as yours, I am '25 years of age', call me 'young', 'old'' or what have you but please know there is a part of me, the real me, that will never be buried or cease to be.


You were raised in a culture in which you learned to develop a taste for certain foods or relate to others in a specific way but it is as far from the entirety of who you are as ownership of a dollar bill is far from making you Warren Buffet


As one pastor has put: No one was given multiple choice before they were born. You simply woke up one day as you are and that was that. How can you put any stock in that? I am as helplessly 'black' as you are whatever you are. But God has a purpose for all He does.


Ponder this: The person of God was poured into a Jewish man whose people spoke Hebrew, we call him Jesus. But why that form?
Why these people?


It is worthy of noting, that what sets Hebrew apart from other languages is it's ability to be easily translated. Take the biblical books of poetry like our blessed Psalms and Proverbs. Had they been written by others, they would have relied on rhyme and meter, the placing of emphasis on syllables for expressing thoughts and ideas, which may sound lovely to the native but does not translate well for others. But the beautiful pattern of ideas we call Hebrew parallelism can be effectively rendered in ANY language!


And consider this: that Jesus came down and his disciples lived during the occupation of Jerusalem under the Roman Empire, when several different peoples and tribes were united by a common language: Greek, allowing for the Gospel to be spread to ALL in a single tongue!

God is more concerned about the accomplishment of His will than what it looks like to us and He is more concerned about the people we are becoming than what we look like to each other.

Is it no coincidence that God poured the souls of civil revolutionaries in bodies in which they could accomplish the most good, as a Martin Luther King or a Gandhi -- He raised up leaders in the midst of people who needed them.


John 8:
31 Jesus said to the people who believed in him, “You are truly my disciples if you remain faithful to my teachings. 32 And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
Beloved, I sincerely believe the Lord is raising us up "for such a time as this" but we must freed from our preoccupation with sight.


What would you call a Christmas morning where all the members of a family traveled from all over the country to be at this one house, remaining seated, content in only staring at their wrapped gifts?  It may be  interesting for a time -- in anticipation --yet unless they "knew" the content of the gift boxes under the tree, I am sure we can agree the time spent would have been considered less than fulfilling, just as beauty being our main romantic motivator leaves the product achieved as less than fulfilling.


May we live for greater motivators. May we seek to "know" more of God. May we "know" more of each other. May we "know" more of ourselves.


Let us open some boxes.


In Him,

Jean-Marc