Who, what, when, where, and how are also important words.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand, why do you say that?”
“I am not sure what you mean. What do you mean?”
“That is interesting (when someone says something with which you disagree). Where did you learn that?”
Of course, when you use these words, it follows that you must listen carefully. Otherwise, all is futile.
When you don’t understand something, ask why five times. Sometimes even by the third time understanding will come.
If you were on a long train ride with the smartest person in the world, what would you ask her?
How long would it take before you returned to doom scrolling on your phone?
How long can you maintain thinking without diversion?
What don’t you know that you would like to know?
I knew a teacher of the Bible who would get to a point where there were questions. He would say, “I guess we’ll have to save that one up to ask God when we get to heaven.” What if we had the patience and attention to ask God now and then wait for an answer?
I was taught to express myself as if I knew. These writings are the results of exploring. Searching for answers to many questions. Mostly, how to live in a healthy, positive way with-God. Every day brings a new wonder to consider.
I may have mentioned before that I’ve been receiving the Pump newsletter from Arnold Schwarzenegger. He sucked me in with the phrase “a positive corner of the Internet.” Don’t know about you, but I could use more positivity.
People who study these things have told us that anger often comes from insecurities and fear. Hate, also, has deep roots within our own emotional construction. Here is a story from Arnold from a recent event.
Last week, I had an event at the Schwarzenegger Institute at USC on fighting the rising hate we’ve seen all over the world. We had a panel about how to communicate to pull people away from a path of hate, and a former neo-Nazi who now helps other extremists out of their movements shared his perspective. Something he shared stuck with me, and I wanted to share it with all of you. Because it is wisdom that can help anyone — not just people who are consumed by hate. He said that the further he got away from his old beliefs, the more he realized that in the days when he carried that hateful flag and shouted racist and anti-Semitic rhetoric, the person he really hated was himself. He believes he was projecting that hate onto other groups because it was a lot harder to turn inward and work on his own insecurities.
Many of us meditate hoping for experiences and visions of the divine. The meditative experience that most influenced me was when I was shown every form of evil and sin revealing that these are all buried within me. The realization that I was capable of all sin (see the first chapters of Paul’s Letter to the Romans for example) provided insights and tools for dealing with that. And the empathy for others who also struggle with that same whether they know it or not. It, by the way, is a life-long struggle. Just like the realization of this man quoted above.
According to the evidence at our disposal, the expansion of the churches was not organized, the product of a mission program; it simply happened. Further, the growth was not carefully thought through. Early Christian leaders did not engage in debates between rival “mission strategies.”
Alan Kreider
As one grows older and stays observant, recurring patterns of behavior occur. I took a “church growth” class in the late ’70s. I later knew several pastors with advanced degrees with that speciality. Same basic knowledge.
What I learned—it’s all about leadership, not so much knowledge.
Many businesses and churches have vision statements and mission statements. (Side note: I wonder why have both. Seems both redundant and confusing. Which are the people to follow?)
My studies over many years agree with Kreider’s. Many people joined the new first century movement because of the types of lives they saw among the believers. I’ve read histories of the plagues in Rome under emperors such as Marcus Aurelius where Christians came out of hiding (a dangerous thing) to serve the sick and dying in whatever way they could. These acts of selfless love also spurred tremendous growth of the movement.
I don’t think Jesus was confusing. Matthew says that just before he ascended, Jesus just left one mission statement—
GO into the entire world,
TEACH what he taught,
MAKE disciples (that is, followers who would presumably do this same thing),
LIVE knowing Jesus is still with them (us) guiding the way.
The question to us—are we content to sit in our little circle of friends or are we living an inviting life of service and joy?
Quite by accident the second edition of “Humble Inquiry: The Gentle Art of Asking Instead of Telling,” by Edgar H. Schein and Peter A. Schein appeared in my mail the other day. Reviewing some older notes, I saw the recommendation. When this book arrived, I discovered I had the first edition on my bookshelf. The second edition was worth the refresher.
Do you know any long-time elementary school teachers? Ever listen to them? Do their questions sound often like a prosecuting attorney going after a criminal suspect?
Do we catch ourselves asking questions to test other people? Or questions where we wish to discover if they are for us or against us? Questions meant to trap us—like often were posed to Jesus?
The gentle art of asking questions instead of telling people reveals true curiosity. We want to know what someone else is thinking—really.
The gentle art draws people in rather than establishing a barrier between people. Its foundation includes trust, sincerity, mindfulness. I would add intention.
So often we ask, but then we fail to listen to the answer. Listening, that is, that involves our complete attention.
I wrote about this book five years ago. It’s one of those books that requires a reread periodically. It’s brief. Readable. New insights will pop out each reading.
Simplicity—we are approaching travel season. How do you travel?
When Jesus sent his followers out on a training mission, he told them to take nothing with them.
Thanks to laptop and digital files, anti-microbial marino wool T-shirts, water-(and red wine) shedding slacks, I’ve learned to take a 3-4 day business trip with only a backpack. I can do a week’s vacation to most places that way. The reduced load on my mind (and my back) by learning to get by with less is freeing.
This, of course, is a metaphor for living a simpler life in general. What can you reduce, throw out, unclutter? How much emotional crap are you carrying that should be disposed of? How many physical objects are getting in your way?
People at work or at church or wherever gathered in clusters to listen to someone complain about something—leadership, finances, systems. The complaining fed on itself and the impromptu gathering could destroy attitudes for hours.
Social media has amplified the circle you can reach with your complaints, criticisms, unfounded and not-thought-out opinions. You have no responsibility to fix anything. No responsibility for the effect your words have on others.
Beware those who constantly criticize. Don’t join their little clusters at work or wherever you are. Mute them on social media so that you don’t see their rants.
Associate with those people who lift you up. Or associate with those whom you can serve.
Clear your mind. Take the road of positivity. Take the road of service. Most of all take responsibility. Life is much better that way.
“We are human.”
The podcast conversation on Guy Kawasaki’s Remarkable People with David Ambroz evoked horror, sadness, hope, even joy.
Ambroz released a book A Place Called Home: A Memoir. This Amazon executive with a degree from Vassar and a law degree from UCLA tells a moving story of growing up homeless with two siblings and a mentally ill mother. Foster care only led to abuse. But his mother managed to instill a few values and some good fortune and hard work propelled him out of the cycle into a successful life.
“How should we look at homeless people?,” Kawasaki asked. “They are human,” Ambroz replied.
I have thought of a similar response every time I hear statements denigrating women, gay people, people of different ethnicities or colors. We are human. All of us.
Think of the way Jesus related to Romans, Syrians, Samaritans, women, political extremists, people with extreme skin illnesses. He touched lepers. He healed Romans and Syrians. He talked frankly with a Samaritan woman.
Can we do any less?
We are human. Compassion–what a wonderful thing.
Once upon a time there was a guy who, when faced with difficult passages in letters from the Apostle Paul, would say, “Get out your black magic marker and cover over this passage.”
He was joking, of course. As a sort of fundamentalist, he wouldn’t advocate modifying scripture. But he was serious in the sense we all are when we read something in biblical writing with which we disagree. Rather than say “I don’t know” like I mentioned yesterday, we choose to ignore it. Treat it as if it were non-existent.
At university and for many years following, I disliked the writings of Paul. He was anti-female, anti-gay, anti-sex. He was used by Christian preachers in southern US from before the Revolution to justify slavery. At a time when many of us were upset with the promoted racism and war of our government, he had written Romans 13 about supporting your government (something today’s American fundamentalists also ignore).
One day I said to myself, I don’t know. I took a deep dive into scholarship around his letters gaining some respect and insight into his thought.
It is OK to disagree. Even among ourselves. If we use that as a starting point for “I don’t know” and open ourselves up to deeper revelations.
I’ll leave you with this thought.
We are probably all familiar with the Shema, the Hebrew prayer from Deuteronomy 6:4. Jesus quotes it a couple of times—the part about you shall love the lord your God… NT Wright’s study of Paul pointed out what he calls Paul’s Shema. Meditating on this has led to new insights for me:
One God, the Father, from whom all things, and we (belong) to him.
And one Lord, Jesus Messiah, through whom all things, and we (live) through him.
1 Cor 8:6
A scientist begins with “I don’t know.” Curiosity ensues. Questions. A need to know and discover.
What about studying theology—or trying to discover God?
I approached all of university, as well as all my studies since, as an answer to “I don’t know, but I am curious to learn.”
I wonder how many people approach the study of theology begin with I don’t know and seek to discover or how many begin with a priori “knowledge” and seek only to prove what they already believe to be true?
Not everyone is like me most likely. Missing out on the joy of discovery. The joy of finding God in unexpected places. And the joy of changing my mind if God shows me a better explanation or path.
University and business writing taught me to express myself with certainty. Some people have said to me that I sound like I know the material. In reality, I’m throwing out ideas. If someone throws back another idea, I’ll consider it. Maybe I’ll learn something new and wonderful.
Sometimes it’s like that man who exclaimed to Jesus, “I believe. Help me in my unbelief!”
We could do with a little less certainty in our societies and a little more joy of discovering something we didn’t know.
Gary Mintchell
Faith Venture 