Swimming through Time

How scary can a horror movie be at 30,000 feet? I had wrongly assumed that being sealed in a steel tube and travelling at 500 miles per hour would put all that shaky camera work and suspense in perspective – right? Suffice it to say that I had to ask the cabin crew to please leave my reading light on. So on a more recent trip, I carefully avoided the scary stuff and settled back to watch the latest Richard Curtis’ movie: “About Time”, a light British comedy in the genre of Hugh Grant. This time I had to plead with the cabin crew to keep the lights off. I was moved. Actually, I was a blubbering wreck! 

At face value this movie looked harmless enough. Our protagonist, a young man called Tim, has inherited an unusual family gene. While most of us typically get distinctive noses or ugly feet, Tim’s genetic bequest from his father is the ability to travel in time. In C.S Lewis fashion, this happened by Tim ducking into closets and closing his eyes. He would then re-emerge at some desired event in his family history. 

Tim’s initial jaunts in time are amusing: the opportunity to recapture a lost kiss at a New Year’s party or supply the perfect pick-up line to the beautiful girl. These made me laugh. It was Curtis’ exploration of family life, love and friendship, celebration and grief that really caught my heart and made me wonder:  if we could walk in and out of different chapters of our lives and edit out our mistakes, what would we re-write? Conversely, surveying life’s rich tapestry, would we have the courage to rationalize that some life lessons are only learned in the crucible of pain and loss?

Tim’s father cautioned him not to use his gift for fame or wealth but to live as normal a life as possible every day, but then (and here’s the trick) to relive that day a second time. On the second time around, ignoring all the stresses and strains, one is then free to appreciate all the little things: the kindness of a stranger, the humor in the moment, the simple goodness of being with someone we love and making new friends. 

Tim scrupulously practices this rule but then perfects it when he decides to cut out the “second day.” To simply live every day as if it were his last because, said Tim, “all we can do is our best to relish this remarkable ride and remember that we are all travelling in time together.” The Psalmist had the same revelation when he wrote, “This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24)

I was at the gym later that week in the pool. Taken up with my own thoughts I lost all sense of direction and sailed right into the path of an oncoming swimmer. I eventually resurfaced spluttering my apology, expecting a “you stole my parking space” admonishment. To my amazement, I received the warmest “apology fully accepted” smile, at least that is possible with goggles on and a nose clip. 

I think this encounter was one of the most human moments of my week. I wondered if my new friend had seen this movie and but more importantly, with my head down, filled with my own thoughts, how many moments like this had I missed in my life? I pray that, even though I cannot relive each day, the Lord would help me see every little moment like this one. It’s evident I will miss some, but my hope is he will bring the ones I need to see most to my attention. 

Taking the Sting out of Criticism

Let’s be honest. Nobody actually likes receiving criticism. The speaker Doug Fields wrote, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard people say, ‘You’ve got to have the skin of a rhino and the heart of a lamb…’ When I was younger I thought, Well, I definitely don’t have rhino skin…maybe I’ll grow thick skin over the years. Thirty years later, I still don’t have thick skin — criticism stings! I hate it.” 

The truth is, if we are going to grow, we need to be prepared to learn from criticism. If not, we will never grow beyond the mistakes we make. The New England writer, Ralph Waldo Emerson, wrote, “Let me never fall into the vulgar mistake of dreaming that I am persecuted whenever I am contradicted.” In a January 1939 interview, Winston Churchill remarked, “Criticism may not be agreeable, but it is necessary. It fulfills the same function as pain in the human body; it calls attention to the development of an unhealthy state of things. If it is heeded in time, danger may be averted; if it is suppressed, a fatal distemper may develop.” And yet at the same timethe story goes that when Churchill was famously criticized by Lady Astor for being drunk, he replied, “I may be drunk, Madame, and you are ugly. But in the morning, I will be sober.” Clearly, he struggled with criticism, too.

There are some people who appear to be permanently primed to spontaneously correct others. Dale Carnegie wrote, “Any fool can criticize, complain and condemn — and most fools do. But it takes character and self-control to be understanding and forgiving.” So, if you find yourself on the receiving end of the less-constructive kind of criticism, here are four suggestions that may help take the sting out: 

1. Pray and seek the Lord’s perspective. Prayer is not always the first place that I go, but eventually I get there! And when I do, it makes a profound difference. The Holy Spirit is very good at helping me distinguish the parts that I need to listen to (there is invariably something) and the parts I can lay at the foot of the Cross. And of course, in Jesus, we have a Savior who knows exactly what it is like to be on the receiving end of harsh and unjust criticism. Jesus Christ was put down by the religious leaders for not having the education they had, and when the truth He taught convicted them of being wrong, they criticized him and his family and followers even more.

2. Ask the Lord to give you His heart for the person who has criticized you. People in pain say things that they wish they had not. In other words, there are probably elements of brokenness and pain in a person’s life that may cause him (or her) to have broken patterns of communication with others. I was once wisely told, “Drew, there is always something you don’t know.” I have found that bearing this in mind helps when dislodging a verbal harpoon from your chest. It’s possible that what is aimed at you is not about you at all. Our harshest critic is probably no less kind to himself. You may well be someone’s misguided attempt to salve his own internal pain. Taking a moment to at least consider this possibility opens us up to the opportunity that we might also be that person’s help – and that can begin with prayer. 

3. Avoid the temptation to retaliate. We may not be able to stop someone’s careless words, but we can make a choice on how to respond. A little humility helps. A response along the lines of, “I really want to understand more fully what you are telling me, but it is difficult to hear and receive what you are saying when you speak to me that way,” could be the key to ushering in a little peace and understanding. We can also rely upon the Lord’s promise to take care of us. He is the God “who defends His people” (Isaiah 51:22, NIV). 

4. Find some wise and honest friends to talk it through with you. King Solomon wrote, “In an abundance of counselors there is safety.” (Proverbs 11:14). When you feel under fire from an unduly critical source, the honest friendship around you to both affirm you and graciously point out where there may actually be a some truth in the criticism is very sobering. A circle of trusted friends will give you a more realistic echo of your virtues and faults. At the same time, avoid the temptation to speak about your critic with bitterness or blame. This won’t help your emotional health. Why add further fire power to what has already hurt you? I ask God to help me treat my critics with the love and respect that I would like to be treated with if I were being critical to others. 

5. Change the culture. Be an encourager! Solomon knew the power of encouragement when he wrote, “The right word spoken at the right time is as beautiful as gold apples in a silver bowl” (Proverbs 25:11, NCV). Mark Twain once famously said, “I can live for two months on a good compliment!” So, let’ change the culture. Let’s be proactive about honoring what is authentically good. The apostle Paul wrote, “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” (Philippians 4:8). After all, this is in our own self-interest. As Jean de La Bruyère pointed out, “The pleasure of criticizing takes away from us the pleasure of being moved by some very fine things.”  

So, as all of us faithfully but imperfectly endeavor to be salt and light, let me leave the final word to President Theodore Roosevelt: “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again… if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”  

The Lost Art of Social Climbing

Is it possible to escape the iMe, iFirst, I-must-be-top-dog compulsion to have the best advantages, the best belongings, the fastest lane in traffic, the shortest line at the supermarket checkout? The attitude is a universal phenomenon. So how does God speak to this rampant self-preoccupation? 

Jesus told a curious parable about a wedding feast and the coveted seat at the top table. In this parable, I can see Jesus drawing me in close and saying, “Look, this desire you have to be top-dog… Don’t do what these amateur social climbers do by taking the best place for yourself. Think about it! Another guest will enter the room who is clearly better at these social situations than you are and will get your seat. You will end up having to take a walk of shame back to the kids table! That’s not the way to do it. Instead, take the lowest place so that when your host comes, he’ll say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ If you do it this way, ‘Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests!'” (Luke 14:10).

“Jesus, that’s brilliant!” I might respond. “Honestly, that’s the best self-serving, self-promoting, narcissistic advice that you have ever given me!” And just there, if I were really paying attention, I might just smell a trap.

So what is going on? Has Jesus suddenly become a wedding planner or a life coach? Did we imagine that Jesus is now giving counsel on social engineering? Of course not.

How much true humility are we showing if we “humbly” take our seat at the low end of the social spectrum, all the while hoping and praying to be noticed and led to a more socially-advantageous spot, preferably while others are watching? The parable is a trap. It isn’t advice on social advancement; it’s a teaching on humility that artfully exposes the true condition of our hearts. All we often really care about is ourselves. We might act humbly and do the right thing, but our heart isn’t really there.

So, if this is the state of our hearts, what are we supposed to do? The truth is, there is nothing we can do on our own. It isn’t just a matter of acting humbly and taking the lower position; it’s a matter of being humble. The prophet Jeremiah summed up the chronic state of our condition: “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.” (Jeremiah 17:9). Penned more than 2600 years ago, the diagnosis is still true. We cannot fix ourselves. We don’t have it in us to be more than just someone who appears humble. Only a heart transplant will do, because there is simply no cure for what ails us. Psalm 51 tells us where to look: “Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.” (verse 10). We must go to God, acknowledge that we are truly helpless to save ourselves, and ask Him to forgive us and help us.

Jesus’ parable ends with, “For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”(Luke 14:11). When Jesus was referring to those who “humble themselves,” his objective was to show us what true humility looks like, to help us realize our own inability to be the kind of person he was exalting, and to draw us to experience His forgiveness and help.

And if we do humble ourselves in this way, from the heart, what happens next? We are told, “For all those who humble themselves will be exalted.”(Luke 14: 11) But is the desire to be exalted another trap? What does it mean, and how do you know whether you have been exalted?

Let me offer three ways that would reassure you that you’ve been exalted before God. First, you’re going to know you’ve been forgiven and that this was an undeserved gift born out of God’s grace. Second, you’re going to be surprised by a new heart that motivates you to do things and say things for no other reason than to bless, encourage, and help another person. And finally, you’ll be really happy: not artificially happy, chemically happy, or even politely happy, but truly, wonderfully, gloriously happy. Why? Because, as the Lord said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” This blessedness increases over time as we are transformed from the inside out.

So in these ways, by God’s grace, we become ever more ready to lose the art of social climbing. We are freed from the need to be first, and from our heart, we begin to seek out the best interests of others. We can learn to be humble and know that God is right there with us, ready to exalt us no matter how low a position we find ourselves in.