Confidence Man (With Less Theft)

I like the idea of being a social butterfly. I like to envision myself at a party, moving around the room having meaningful conversations with all sorts of people. I'd like to be one of those people that can create an instantaneous connection with a stranger, as if we are old friends. But I'm not like that. I'm usually pretty uncomfortable in social situations. There is a reason I write blogs, after all.

For example, when I was in middle school, I always looked forward to the school dances. A dance was always on a Friday, and I would anticipate it being the highlight of my whole week. But here's the thing: I can't dance at all, and I couldn't then either. I could do that thing that middle schoolers call "slow dancing" alright, where a guy and girl stand a couple feet apart and sort of touch each other. But I never had the guts to ask a girl to dance, so my limited skills went unused. So I would spend the time awkwardly standing around, and by the time I left the school gym at the end of the event, I would realize that I hadn't had a very good time. But then the next morning, I would wake up and think, "Man, I can't wait till the next dance!" I would vow to myself that next time it would be different, and that I would be the life of the party. A couple months later, the whole process would repeat.

People sometimes tell me that I just need to be more confident. Confidence can be defined as "belief in oneself and one's powers or abilities."  What we often label as confidence, however, is often just the opposite. You might see a guy who sits at a table with others and goes on and on about everything he knows about a given topic, or you see another guy telling a girl how great he was at high school football, and you think, "Now that's a confident guy." In fact, you may even label him as overconfident.

In these sorts of scenarios, what we think of as confidence is actually just the opposite. A person who needs to have a conversation focused on him, who must brag about past accomplishments, or who must put his knowledge or skills on display for everyone to ooh and aah at is demonstrating a lack of confidence. Most of us do this from time to time. We all like attention. We want people to be impressed by us. We put so much stock in others' perceptions of us. A truly confident person does not need to play this game, though. A confident person has enough assurance in himself that he is not overly concerned with what others think about him. He doesn't need to turn the spotlight to himself.

The confident person, then, is able to give real attention to others instead of drawing attention to himself. He makes a conversation about the other person. He asks questions that give others a chance to talk. He encourages. He gives credit to others instead of trying to gobble it up himself. A confident person is much more enjoyable to be around because he isn't trying to win your support like a political candidate lobbying for votes. He's not trying to manipulate you.

Our tendency is to label people who a naturally friendly as "confident," while those who are more reserved are "not confident." However what we often think of as an issue of "confidence vs. lack of confidence" is really not about confidence at all. It's an issue of being outgoing vs. being shy. An outgoing person can be confident (giving genuine attention to others) or not confident at all (desperately trying to impress). In the same way, a shy person can be either confident or not. Because a person is quiet does not mean that person lacks confidence. They just lack outgoingness. These aren't the same.

I am not writing any of this to speak out against those who say I need more confident, because these people are right. They might mean to say that I should be more outgoing (which is possibly true), but I do also need confidence. I like to bring attention to myself. I like to look good. And because of this, I often make my interactions with others about me instead of about them. I need confidence. And perhaps you do too.

To The Republic

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which is stands, one nation under God, with liberty and justice for all.

Every American knows those words. We are taught to recite the Pledge of Allegiance from the time we're born, it seems. They may be the most oft-quoted words in America, except for "Happy birthday" or "So have you read D-Heff's latest blog post?" When I was in elementary school, every day began with the entire student body turning toward the giant American flag hanging on the wall, and we would recite the Pledge of Allegiance with our hands over our hearts. It becomes so routine, in fact, that we don't even give the words a second thought. They're just natural.

I wonder, however: As Christians, should we say the Pledge of Allegiance? Most Christians in this nations would say, "Of course we should. God and country--that's what we're all about." The appropriateness of reciting these words goes unquestioned. I have even been in churches when the entire church says the Pledge of Allegiance together Independence Day (shudder). The more I think about it though, the more I am convinced that the Pledge of Allegiance doesn't have a place in the life of a Christian.

Can a person have allegiance to two kingdoms? That is what it boils down to. As a Christian, I am part of Christ's kingdom. That's where my allegiance lies. Can I, then, also claim to have allegiance to that nation in which I live?

What if we took this concept and put it in a different context? For example, would it be alright for a Christian in China to pledge allegiance to China? Or for a Christian in Iran to pledge allegiance to Iran? Or could a first-century Christian have pledged allegiance to Rome? How then is it acceptable for American Christians to pledge allegiance to the United States? Now, you may argue, "But those other places are pagan nations. We live in a Christian nation." I would disagree with such a proposition. You can check out my earlier treatment of that topic, which is more complete but certainly not exhaustive. Those who think it's okay to give their allegiance to America because we live in a "Christian nation" may not be looking at the American values that are contradictory to God's kingdom. I haven't checked in a while, but the last I knew, "patriotism" wasn't listed as a fruit of the Spirit.

I hesitate a little to post this, because the truth is that I'm not completely sold out on an answer to these questions, though I guess it's obvious which way I'm leaning. But for the most part, publishing ideas that you're unsure on (and not very knowledgeable about) is a dangerous enterprise. So please join in the conversation. Leave a comment and let us know what you think. And enjoy March Madness. It is the most wonderful time of the year.

Authority and Compassion

Recently I finished reading a book called Killing Cockroaches by a guy named Tony Morgan. If I ever write a book, it will probably be one like this one. The whole thing is just a collection of his blog posts. Heck, if that's all it takes to write a book, I've already written one or two. Anyways, in part of his book, Morgan gives a list of reasons why he blogs, and I was surprised when one of them was "People send me free stuff." What?! I've been doing this for two and a half years, and not one of you chumps has sent me anything! It's time for you saps to pick up your end of the deal.

Now that I've totally alienated the bulk of my readership, let me get to what I want to write about today. I have been spending some time reading the gospel of Mark over the past couple weeks. I love that, even though I've read Mark I don't know how many times in my life, God continues to illuminate different things for me. As I have been reading it, I have been struck by the way that, over and over again, Mark points out Jesus' twin characteristics of authority and compassion. On one hand, Jesus demonstrates incredible power and strength, both in word and deed. On the other hand, Jesus is compassionate--he feels concern and love for the crowds that continuously press in on him. These characteristics are not at odds with each other in Jesus, however. They go together. Jesus has authority and compassion, and one does not diminish the other.

We see it from the very beginning of Mark's gospel. Even in the first chapter, we read about Jesus teaching in the synagogue and driving out an evil spirit. After the exorcism, the people in the synagogue are amazed and say, "What is this? A new teaching--and with authority! He even gives orders to evil spirits and they obey him" (1:27). So right away, we are reminded of Jesus' power and authority (which is demonstrated again in the next passage when Jesus heals Simon's mother-in-law, plus everyone else who comes to him that night.) Later in the chapter, a man with leprosy comes to Jesus, begging him to make him clean. Then Mark tells us, "Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. 'I am willing,' he said. 'Be clean!'" (1:41). Here, we obviously see Jesus compassion. He reaches out and touches those that the rest of society expels. He embraces those that the world pushes away.

It's much of the same for the rest of the gospel. (Or at least through chapter nine, which is where I am now.) Jesus declares that he has "authority on earth to forgive sins" (2:10). He identifies himself as "Lord [authority!] even of the Sabbath" (2:28). Jesus is the strong man who invades Satan's house and ties him up [more authority] (3:27). The disciples are terrified because "even the wind and the waves obey him [even more authority]" (4:41). A legion of demons recognizes that Jesus has the power to torture them [and yes, once again, more authority] (5:7).

In the same way, Jesus' compassion shows up again and again. Jesus eats dinner with tax collectors and sinners, because they are the sick who need a doctor (2:17). He heals a man with a shriveled hand who was ignored by the religious establishment (3:5). When he tries to get some time alone with his disciples but is intercepted by a huge crowed, "he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd", so he feeds all 5000+ of them (6:34). He heals the daughter of a Syro-Phonecian woman [which Jews would read as "dirty, nasty, unclean, flea-ridden Gentile] (7:30). And, when he feeds yet another crowd of thousands, he says, "I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat" (8:2).

Authority and compassion. Authority and compassion. You can't get away from them when you read Mark. My favorite story that illustrates this is the account of Jairus' daughter and the bleeding woman--two stories that are twisted together like the strands of a rope. In this text in Mark 5:21-43, both Jairus and the woman are afraid at some point. The woman, who had snuck up behind Jesus, touched his cloak, and been healed, trembles with fear when Jesus finds her out. Why? I think she was afraid that Jesus lacked compassion. She was afraid that he would rebuke her and condemn her for being so presumptuous as to think she can just come up and touch the clothes of such a popular miracle-worker. But, contrary to her fear, she experiences a special display of Jesus' compassion. He doesn't scorn her. He tenderly says, "Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering." What a compassionate Christ.

Then there's Jairus. He had come to Jesus to see if he would heal his sick daughter, but while Jesus was busy dealing with the bleeding woman, his daughter had died. So Jairus is afraid, but for a different reason. He is afraid that Jesus lacked authority. He perhaps doubted Jesus' power. Healing a girl is one thing, but bringing her back to life is quite another. Perhaps this one was simply out of Jesus' reach. But then Jesus looks at Jairus and says, "Don't be afraid! Just believe." Then Jesus goes to Jairus' home and brings his daughter back to life, demonstrating that he even has authority over the grave. What a powerful Christ.

At times in life, I am afraid, and I would think that you may be also. Sometimes we are afraid that Jesus does not have authority. We think that there might be a situation in our lives that is just too much for him to handle. We're not sure if he can come through this time. Or, on the other hand, we may be afraid that Jesus does not have compassion. We think that he is unconcerned with our problems. We figure, "He has more important things to worry about, after all." However, the story of Jairus and the bleeding woman (as well as the rest of Mark) reminds us that Jesus has authority and compassion. He is all-powerful and all-loving. And that means being his child is a very good thing to be.

This also has an affect on how we think about our own ministries and our own lives as Christians. If we follow Jesus, we too should be characterized by authority and compassion. We have authority, not in ourselves, but because we preach God's Word and have his Spirit dwelling within us. So let's be bold, not shrinking back, but standing firm through any circumstance. Not only that, but we must have compassion. Let's see other people the way that Jesus sees them--as his children and his flock that are lost without him. Let's reach out and touch the untouchable, love the unlovable, and embrace the outcasts.

Authority and compassion. We see it in Jesus. So let's help the world see Jesus in us.