motivations

So then, if you know the good you ought to do and don’t do it, you sin.
James 4:17

Yes, James. I agree. But I ask: what is it in us that motivates us to actually do what we ought?

I am fascinated by this question, because as I observe myself and others, I am amazed/confused/scared/awed/angered/disgusted/ convicted/blessed/humbled by all that motivates us to do good things. Yep. I feel all of those about my own motivation and that of others... sometimes simultaneously.

Here's what sparked all of this. Because of the writer's guild strike, all of the networks are having to put on re-runs of their sitcoms, dramas, and talk shows. In flipping through the channels, I came across a summer re-run of the Colbert Report, which frequently addresses religious topics (albeit in a sarcastic yet insightful manner). This particular episode was covering an August Time Magazine cover article on Mother Teresa.

The Time article covered a book that had just been published entitled Come Be My Light. The editor of the book had gathered 50 years worth of personal communication from Mother Teresa to many of her confessors--spiritual confidants and guides.

One would expect that this book would be packed full of wisdom about a deep and abiding love-relationship with God, and how this love-relationship continually fuels selfless acts of service. The book fails to meet that expectation, however.

In fact, the book dashes that expectation to pieces and replaces with a stark, haunting reality: Mother Teresa's 50 years of service were not categorized by a sense of intimacy and closeness to God. Instead, they were characterized by darkness, confusion, loneliness, and a need for God that He never seems to meet.

That can't be. The editor must have gathered letters only from the times Mother Teresa struggled, and then blew them out of proportion by publishing them only.

Not true. The publisher is actually an ardent follower and admirer of Teresa, and is a Catholic himself. He even lobbies for Mother Teresa's canonization.

Well, everyone has times of doubt. I mean, look at Mother Teresa's situation. The need was so great, the setting so dark, and she was surrounded by it all the time. It had to have been overwhelming. I'd wonder where God was, too.

Sure. But that wasn't the thing Mother Teresa sorrowed over. What she sorrowed over was a continuous, characteristic, gaping lack of intimacy with God, despite her repeated advances and requests. She felt like she had it before she embarked on her calling, and felt like she never regained it during her years of service in India.

Gosh... I just have such a hard time believing that. There's got to be a piece (or several pieces) of the puzzle that are missing there. It just doesn't make sense that someone could serve like she did for so long without really sensing the presence of God.

Why is that?

Well, I just can't imagine any amount of discipline, altruism, or whatever that would keep someone doing what she was doing for how long she did it. I mean, she believed that this is what God had called her to do... but she rarely felt His love for her? She felt dark and abandoned more often than not? No way. I would have left. I mean, she sacrificed everything for someone who's mere existence she often questioned because of rarely sensing His intimacy or nearness. People don't do that, especially when the sacrifice is so great.

People do it everyday.

Name one.

Ok. How about the woman who stays married to a dangerously violent man for her entire life?

Go on...

Well, think about it. A man and a woman get married after a whirlwind romance. Sure, they've both got problems, but they're both young, and have their entire lives to figure it out, right? Well, not two years into the marriage, the woman discovers that the man she thought she married is a far cry from the man she's discovering her husband to be. They have a kid now, but a good father he is not. He doesn't seem to be patient with her anymore, is rather quick tempered, and one day hits her for burning his toast, right in front of their toddler.

Yeah, but...

Just a second. Stay with me here. The woman has a deep, abiding belief in the sanctity of marriage--her mother and father taught her that, her church reinforces it, and all of her peers judge anyone who splits up a family. "You stay together; commitment is the only key to a successful marriage."

So she stays. Come hell or high water, she stays. The alternative is too fearful to even consider. The weight of her own belief, coupled with the expectations of the many voices in her community forbid her to reveal to anyone what is going on. Above all else, she has to be a good example, a model of a good wife and mother. And a good wife and mother stays with her family, good or bad, in sickness or in health. She gave her oath. She made a commitment. She promised. And nothing good comes from a broken promise.

So you're equating God to an abusive husband, and Mother Teresa to a battered wife?

I'm equating Mother Teresa's God with an abusive husband.

So there's more than one God, then?

In reality, no, there is only One. But in the realities that we create and fashion for ourselves, there are as many "Gods" as there are people.

Interesting. I think I see where you are going. But that is still awfully hard to believe: Mother Teresa, despite all of her years of service, despite following Jesus' second most important command literally and fervently, fashioned God into something or someone that He wasn't?

It's hard to say... and far be it from me, as someone who is honestly unwilling to make the same sacrifice that Mother Teresa made, to hastily and assuredly come to such a conclusion. But man... 50 years that are characterized by wondering if God was real, by feeling dissatisfied, by not feeling loved in the way that you desire, by feeling jilted to the point where you wonder if Jesus is true... that makes you wonder what kind of God Mother Teresa was really serving.

It does... so what do we do with that?

Well, I take a couple of things away from Mother Teresa's story. First, I think we need to understand something about ourselves as human beings. Human beings seem to have this creative, deceptive ability to "irrigate their souls" when God's fountain seems to have dried up.

Huh?

Think of it this way: a lot of people claim to do things in the name of God's love, right?

Right...

I mean, you name it: teach, lead, shepherd, guide, serve, sing, greet, give, administrate, organize, recycle, prophesy, intercede, pray, confront, submit...

Yeah, yeah, I get it. Your point being?

Well, are they doing those things because they love God, or are they doing them because of God's love for them?

Isn't it both?

Well, it should be both. We should do things because God loves us, and because we love God. But often times, we do them simply because we love God. In other words, we do them because we know that we should love God, and we love God by obeying God through these various acts.

And what's wrong with that?

Nothing. And everything.

Nice. Way to be needlessly unclear. Really makes you look intelligent.

I don't mean to get all "Confucian" on you. Let me explain. In one sense, nothing is wrong with doing things because you know you should, even when you don't feel like doing them. I mean, just because I don't feel an overwhelming sense of God's intimate love for me does not give me an excuse to neglect the poor or not give my money to God.

Right...

But in another sense, if I don't characteristically receive and feel God's love for me, then my good works are characteristically motivated by... well... the same thing a pagan's good works are motivated by.

And that is?

Me. Motivated entirely by me. By my desires, by my will, by my decision, by my effort by my altruistic beliefs and convictions. Doesn't matter if it happens to match what the Bible tells me to do, or what the latest self-help book tells me to do. It still depends on me, and me alone.

Ok, I get that. But what does that have to do with where you started--with what you said about humans having this ability to "irrigate themselves" or something like that?

Well, the picture God gives us in his Word is for us to live a life that flows out of his life, of us to express a love that continually flows from his continual love for us. However, we often find that while the demands of life, ministry, and mission require expressions of love from you, rarely do they require you to receive God's love before you express loving service.

Give me an example.

Sure. Let's say that you're married with 3 kids. The kids have to eat, and you have to provide for them. The kids have to be taught, and you have to teach them. They have to be disciplined, clothed, educated, made to feel safe and secure. You have to do all of this. And those demands just don't stop, now, do they?

I suppose not.

You suppose correctly. The kids need to be fed, spanked, dressed, in school, getting good grades, getting along with their peers and siblings, and so on. But: do you have it in you, not only to do all of those things, but to do them in the way that God desires? Do you have the patience and gentleness in your heart to parent your child how God wants you to? Do you have the joy that will allow you to celebrate even the least significant of their accomplishments? Do you have the humility of spirit that will enable you to wade through their judgmental and arrogant teenage years? Do you have the self control that will prevent you from abusing your power and authority?

It seems like you're setting the bar awfully high.

Well, God's the One setting the bar, but you are making my point exactly. We have a tendency to permit ourselves to "just get the job done." And we usually have it in us to do so. The kids need to be disciplined. Johnny just mouthed off to his mother. The kids need to be clothed. Susie has just outgrown her shoes that we bought her 3 months ago. Billy is getting poor grades, and the teacher wants to have a conference with us, but work is way too crazy right now to allow any time for that. The last thing that I need to worry about is whether or not I'm doing this the "right" way. I just need to get this done. It's my God-given responsibility; my God-given mission. And so from obedience we rip any need to depend on God, and replace it with my own need to accomplish my God-given task.

And our circumstances more often than not permit this mode of operation, even when it comes to our ministry efforts. Love your neighbor. Share your faith. Give your money. Serve your church. Yes, these are things that God calls and commands us to do. But we are to do it with Him before we do it for Him. And we only do these things with God as we take time to receive God's life and love. And as we do, we depend on that life and that love to fuel what we do for God.

So you're saying that more often than not, we consider it our God-given duty to express God's love in service to others before receiving God's love for ourselves?

Well put.

And you're saying that most of our jobs, families, and even churches permit and even encourage this way of living?

Yes, in my experience, I'd say so.

And you're saying that we've permitted ourselves to reduce obedience from an act of dependency on God to an act of dependency on our own will?

That seems to be our pattern.

And you're saying that we use the feeling from our obedience to God's commands and mission as a substitue for receiving God's intimate and personal love for each of us?

That's the danger, yes.

Well, that's certainly a lot to think about.

You're telling me.

Mike Stubbe

I recently messaged some of my high school friends via facebook about something significant that happened to me today; I thought I'd post it here as well. It's below:

Hey everyone,
Sorry to invade your facebook inboxes with a rather long and admittedly random note, but something has happened to me today that I'd like to share with you.

A man from our church passed away last week. Maybe some of you knew him; I didn't. His name was Mike Stubbe. He was 26, and a 2000 graduate of CF High. He had been married for 6 years, and had a 5-year old daughter. Mike's daughter found him lying on the couch one morning, covered in a blanket, but dead. He had passed away sometime during the night. The autopsy has been, so far, inconclusive.

I was asked to sing a couple of songs at his funeral today. That's a weird part of my job; I am confronted with the reality of death fairly regularly. Anyways, this one stood out to me. Maybe it'll stand out to you.

While I was getting soundchecked before the funeral, our tech guy was playing through some of the songs that Mike's wife had requested we play sometime during the funeral. One of them was a "blast from the past"--K-Ci and JoJo's "All My Life." As it came over the speakers, I thought to myself: "I have memories of that song." I remember that song playing on the radio right in the middle of college life, when communities and identities were forming, when most things were new or firsts, and when the future was finally starting to be written.

Mike and his wife, Tami, had memories of that song, too. It was playing at a similar time in their life together. It was significant enough to them to be played at Mike's funeral.

And that familiarity--that commonality I had with them in that song--shocked me. Normally I can wrap my mind enough around what happens at a funeral that I can remain somewhat detached, even when the cause of the funeral is pretty tragic. But it was more difficult with this one. He was my (read: our) age. He was in good health. He was a godly man. He wasn't screwing around with his life. Nevertheless, his set amount of days came to an abrupt end.

And that is the somewhat cold reality of life. It ends, and there's really no guarantee, and even the odds can be deceiving. Now, God is sovereign and faithful, and has been explicitly so to Tami, in ways that are too numerous to mention in this already lengthy note. Even with that being said: each of us simply does not know and can not know how much longer we will be here.

So, here's the encouragement that I've felt and that I'd like to pass on to you: no matter where you find yourself right now, or where you've been, or where you think you're going, remember that what really matters in life is knowing God, and living God's life. I listened to Mike's brother get up say as much; that's how he makes sense of this. And it's not an empty truth. God gives meaning and hope through Jesus, linking this life with the next. Clinging to him is our only chance of surviving and even thriving in the face of everything that comes our way.

I know it's not the same as you experiencing this firsthand, but I hope that God is able to draw you nearer to himself through these words, and that they help to keep things in perspective during what promises to be another hectic and loaded holiday season.