Faith Venture

Every year I suggest that all Americans take some time to read a few things to refresh our memories about the founding of our country. It’s probably not a bad practice for all of you who do not live here just for the ideals.

Read 

• The Declaration of Independence
• The Preamble to the Constitution
• Actually the entire Constitution
• If not all, at least the first 10 amendments—the Bill of Rights
• Bonus points—read The Federalist Papers

These documents are full of compromises—something that has made it last so long. And something we seem unwilling to do this past decade or so.

Learning is not compulsory…neither is survival—W. Edwards Deming, quality master

There are people who have a set of things they know and judge all events and actions against that set. There are people who have the continuous unease of not knowing. The former can be typed (perhaps too rigidly) as “FJ or Feeling Judgmental” on the Myers-Briggs Types Indicator. The latter as “TP or Thinking Perceptive.” Anyone who has read more than a few of my thoughts can easily figure out which type describes me.

At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.—Matthew 18

As with all spiritual texts, this can be open to numerous interpretations. I choose in this context to reflect on “beginner’s mind.” Wisdom about as ancient as humans in community recognizes that if our heads are full of knowledge or “stuff,” then there is no room for growth, for learning.

Unless we change and become as little children, that is, unless we are open and fascinated to learn more, we will be stuck where we are.

Seth Godin remarked, “Learning is the difficult work of experiencing incompetence on our way to mastery.”

Unless we become like children—stumbling until we suddenly walk; needing an adult to keep the bicycle up until suddenly we are riding; stumbling over pronouncing a new word until suddenly we are fluent.

Where do you feel the tension of unease of not knowing that will entice you into trying until you learn?

Ancient wisdom—You become what you think about.

Shane Parrish writing in Brain Food, updated the thought. You become what you scroll.

Don’t be like the loser in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade about whom the Last Crusader remarked, “He chose poorly.”

Inch by inch, row by row, gonna make this garden grow. All it takes is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground. — Folk song written by David Mallett

A series of caves populate southern Ohio’s Hocking Hills region. Thousands visit Ash Cave, Old Man’s Cave, and others every year.

Drips of water formed these limestone attractions over the course of centuries. Patience, persistence, unending.

This era has been captured by the hype of sudden change. The organization, be it business or church or non-profit, will grow suddenly as if overnight.

Organizations, and yes, even our lives, are actually built slowly over time like those limestone caves.

Like the Garden Song, we hoe a bit by bit and over time we realize how much we have grown.

Religion is not so much telling man there is one God as about preventing man from thinking he is God.—Nassim Nicholas Taleb

Somewhere buried in my library is a book by Erich Fromm, You Shall Be as Gods: A Radical Interpretation of the Old Testament and Its Tradition.

Contrary to what Fromm wrote, when a human begins to believe they are God, good things never occur.

I caught myself about to use the explanation “of course, everybody knows.” 

I don’t know what everybody knows.

Does everybody even know all the same things?

If I am looking for justification, does “everybody knows” justify anything?

I know what I know. (I’m content.)

Except for the times I know something and don’t know that I know. (I’m asleep. Wake me up.)

Then there are the times I know that I don’t know. (I need to learn. Develop curiosity.)

Sometimes I don’t know that I don’t know. (That is dangerous. I could be spreading false ideas.)

But I don’t know what you know—until you tell me and I listen.

Did I just trap myself in that endless loop that I know so much that I know nothing?

The political situation in the US has become so divisive this century that researchers have published several books on handling conflict or having difficult conversations.

Two additional thoughts:

1. Any reading of US history reveals that this period is not unique
2. This situation exists in many (most?) areas of the world

Writing is thinking. Since I claim to be a follower of Jesus, curiosity aroused within to discover how he handled conflict. I have been researching for some time and begun writing a slender volume of examples and thoughts.

Jesus was a rabbi. This fact is uncontested in the gospels. There was both a process to become recognized as a rabbi and a culture among rabbis. Part of the culture, I believe still today, entails deep memorization of the essential texts and the ability to debate your points versus other schools of rabbinic thought.

The gospels, especially John, portray these arguments often as attacks on Jesus. Indeed, he was different from the two mainline schools thus inviting debate.

But he also faced real conflicts. Internal (confronting the devil’s temptations in the desert) and physical (the threat of stoning the woman caught in the act of adultery).

What patterns have I uncovered so far in my thinking?

1. Jesus was secure in his mission given to him by God
2. He possessed the internal strength to confront others with God’s words
3. He possessed the internal strength, courage, and appropriate calm to face physical threats with grace
4. His “emotional quotient” was such that he could find the appropriate level of response

These are qualities that we can, through practice, also acquire. And we should.

More thinking to come. 

Thoughts?

A comic strip from long ago called Pogo where the main character remarks, “The hurrieder I go, the behinder I get.”

Perhaps we find ourselves on that great gerbil wheel of life. Running faster and faster, yet going nowhere.

Sometimes being still and waiting for God’s whisper to visit us is the best medicine.

First Law—no one wants advice, especially unsolicited.

Second Law—if you feel the urge to give advice, see First Law.

My dad used to give me unsolicited advice—every six weeks when school report cards came out—for six years. I had taken some sort of standardized test in sixth grade. My parents went to visit the teacher. After that, the lectures began. Like I told a professor at the fitness center this morning, I think my IQ as measured by a test is higher than my intelligence. At any rate, the advice never took hold. I didn’t start getting good grades until my third year at university. I always have pursued learning on my own initiative unbound by curriculum.

That bit of biographical discourse began by reading this piece of wisdom:

Philosopher Baltasar Gracián on giving advice: “When you counsel someone, you should appear to be reminding him of something he had forgotten, not of the light he was unable to see.”

Doing that will require listening to and understanding the other person. And being aware of whether or not they wish to improve.