|
LizBowater
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Liz
Gender: Female
Interests: Theology, ecology, the UK, driving with no destination, microbreweries, historic neighborhoods, house church, ethics, coffee, sustainability, boots, urban exploration, local music, liturgy, wool, fancy pens, Japanese andy, new monasticism, new urbanism, Chicago hot dogs, dirty hands, people watching, bare feet, and snow.
Expertise: Reading Maps, Indentifying Edible Plants, Humming In Tune, Making Funny Faces, Self-Censorship
Occupation: For money, I save the city fro
Industry: Great, good work.
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
4/21/2005
|
|
|
There are few things more controversial among parents-to-be than the philosophies and methods of childbirth. Now that I’m a year removed from my own birth experience, I feel like I’m ready to address the issue.
First, I am an idealist.
i⋅de⋅al⋅ist –noun
1. a person who cherishes or pursues high or noble principles, purposes, goals, etc.
2. a visionary or impractical person.
3. a person who represents things as they might or should be rather than as they are.
My idealism translates into every part of my life, especially the way I approach parenting and childbirth. In fact, I think the way a woman approaches her own impending experience of childbirth reveals a lot about how she views the world around her and her role in and responsibility to that world.
Basically, you can tell a lot about a woman by how she has a baby.
Let me clarify.
You can tell nothing about a woman by the methods she uses to have her baby, but you can tell a lot about a woman by the principles and philosophy that guides her decisions about childbirth.
If all mothers were stacked side by side and compared based on statistics about who gave birth where, with what medication, with the aide of what sort of professional (if any), etc., it would tell us nothing about who these women actually are. It would also reduce the act of childbirth to something about as sacred as a national census.
I am not interested in arguing one method of childbirth against another, because I think that the method is not the point. I will say this, though: As I was preparing for my son’s birth, it was very obvious to me that the women who had positive ideals of pregnancy, parenting, and childbirth tended to prefer more natural, less medically-invasive methods of childbirth. I don’t think this is a coincidence. I believe that idealism lends itself to trusting a woman’s body for what it was created to do—grow, birth, and nurture children—rather than depending on systems (medical or otherwise) that have been created to make childbirth faster or “easier.”
Some points to consider:
Women should find camaraderie in their ideals about parenting and not their chosen methods. For example, I’ve seen groups of women rally around waterbirth as the ideal method of childbirth. I have no problem with, or affinity for, waterbirth specifically, but I think it’s foolish to adopt a single method with such tenacity. The danger of such specific methods is that there will inevitably come a woman who cannot meet the ideal—perhaps something goes terribly wrong in childbirth and she has to be rushed to the hospital for an emergency c-section, or *gasp* she realizes the pain is much worse than she’d expected and she decides to quit and go to the hospital by choice—and that woman will feel like she has failed herself and the group. I know that all such groups preach grace to those who have extenuating circumstances, but that doesn’t take into account the unspoken pressure that groupthink can put on an individual for whom the reality does not match the ideal.
Groupthink is always dangerous, and methods of childbirth are no exception.
Also, ideology is no match for wisdom. A wise woman knows when it’s time to choose from what choices are left, rather than what choices she wishes were left.
Contrary to what was in my birthplan, I chose to get an epidural during my son’s birth. It was a very difficult decision for me and, though I sometimes doubt that it was really necessary, I don’t regret my decision. Although it wasn’t my ideal choice, I knew it might have been the only way I could reach a higher ideal—a vaginal birth. (Hospitals are infamous for coercing a woman into an “emergency” c-section after twenty-four hours of labor.) So, after nineteen hours of very little progress in labor, and after crying hard about it and talking though it with my super-supportive husband, I decided with a very clear mind and conscience that it was the best decision to make for me and for my baby. Thankfully, the epidural did was it was supposed to do (as well as producing some terribly uncomfortable side effects) and helped me get through the next fifteen hours until my baby was finally born. Although my son’s birth did not go as planned (very few births do), I could not have been happier.
So, then, what’s the point of all of this?
If I’m not willing to argue for or against a specific method of childbirth, then why even write?
Like I said, I think the ideology is the point. For that, I am willing to argue.
Some of my guiding principles of childbirth:
- Childbirth is painful and difficult, but need not be frightening.
- Women are much stronger than they believe themselves to be—both physically and mentally.
- Pregnancy and childbirth are not sicknesses and should not be treated as such.
- The child’s mother and father, when capable of making educated decisions, should be in complete control of the decisions about a child’s birth.
- Medical interventions should be used as secondary methods of progressing labor, not as “a given” when a woman walks in the door of the hospital.
- Medical interventions should be offered graciously, and never accepted out of fear or as a result of manipulation by “professionals.”
- A woman should never feel like less of a woman or a failure when her child’s birth does not match her ideal; women should be encouraged to make the best decision, not the one that is most ideal.
Also, as a sidenote:
I am always skeptical of women who speak about childbirth as if it were either the pinnacle of human experience or the worst experience of their lives. They are either delusional or bitter.
So, on the subject of childbirth, I think what we need is a little more idealism and honesty, as well as a lot of grace for each other. Maybe if we had a healthier view of pregnancy and childbirth, we would have a lot more healthy babies and happy mammas.
I guess that’s all I have to say about that.
| | |
|
I believe in Christian liberty.
What I mean by "Christian liberty" is the freedom God has given us to make our daily decisions in faith, without the fear of lightning bolts ready to strike when we make a "wrong" decision. I believe that many of our decisions can fall into this category of liberty: where to attend college, what to study, who to marry, how many children to have, where to live, etc. When we act in faith in these things, God redeems even our most unwise decisions and uses them for the sake of His glory.
That being said, I believe that there may be some "black and white" issues with which God has not given us so much freedom to act. One example: money.
Now, I wouldn't go so far as to say that God is judging a choice such as spending $20 a week on coffee, or that we must consult the Holy Spirit before buying a new pair of shoes. BUT. God is not silent on issues of money and has set some pretty specific parameters for how we view wealth, success, and debt. And I would venture to say that he set such parameters because He knew that money very easily rises to the position of a god in our lives.
For many of us, it is one of our greatest idols.
How does the idolatry of money manifest itself?
1. In the greedy accumulation of wealth.
Notice, I qualified that statement. The accumulation of wealth is not, in and of itself, the evil here. Ask any missionary whether or not wealthy people have a place in the Kingdom and they will tell you that ministry cannot happen without generous giving by those who have the means to give. And notice the names of people and organizations who keep our hospitals, treatment centers, and homeless shelters up and running--they are able to give so generously because they have been given much to give. For every wealthy man who hoardes his money, there is another who uses the resources he has been given to keep ministry (and the entire economy) moving forward. Wealth is a gift from God which, when used wisely, can become a blessing to others and never a stumbling block to us.
So, wealth itself is not the evil, but the accumulation of wealth for wealth's sake is. The lust for wealth is so strong that men and women destroy their families by working long hours for the sake of more pay or victimize others in unethical industries where their paycheck grows as others' shrink. Some people will spend their families into monstrous amounts of debt, all for the sake of owning and doing the things that wealthy people do: fashion, cars, vacations, jewelry, real estate. Wealth, as we know, does not just exist in bank accounts, in the form of dollars and cents. We accumulate THINGS just as easily as we accumulate money. And these things become our idol, the god we serve.
Wealth easily becomes an idol to serve because it requires so much work. Once a person has achieved a certain level of wealth, life becomes an exercise in maintaining that wealth rather than enjoying it or giving it away. Too many people who achieve financial "success" find that satisfaction never comes. There is always a better car, a better coat, a better lawnmower. And when our eyes turn from the Giver of all gifts to the next thing we'd like to purchase for ourselves (or even for others), we've shifted our service from God to money. It doesn't take a lot of financial success to reach this point; I can make $5.00 an idol just ask quickly as I can $500.
2. In choosing poverty.
Am I really going to argue here that voluntary poverty is idolatry?
Yes, but not always.
Let me explain.
I know that there is a difference between the poverty of the disadvantaged and voluntary poverty. This indictment has nothing to do with those who are victimized into poverty or those who are struggling to escape it. I know that most people, at one time or another, find themselves at the financial mercy of another person--a parent, a bank, our church, a friend. Sometimes we need a loan or to simply to borrow a couple bucks. Sometimes we need to make a late bill payment or find ourselves digging in the couch cushions for spare change until the paycheck clears on Friday. I would never claim that the average person, struggling to get their finances in order, is an idolater. And I know that many people, who qualify as "poor," are not poor by choice.
So, when I say "voluntary poverty," I do not mean the folks who buy used cars and shop at Kroger instead of Whole Foods. I mean the folks who beg for change to ride the bus and don't have a dime to purchase any of their own food. This indictment is against those who refuse to work, but take money from those who do. This indictment is also against those who claim their financial poverty to be a noble gesture or an act of holiness. This indictment is against those who take from the Church, but never give, and also those who rely on a secular government to supplement their "simplicity." This indictment is against those who tell me that because "Jesus was poor," we should all dig in dumpsters for food.
How does this qualify as idolatry? Easy. A man in debt quickly becomes a slave to his lender and maintaining poverty requires just as much devotion as does maintaining wealth. The man who chooses to live in poverty, always at the mercy of others and always concerned for his next meal, is a slave to money in the same way as the man who always strives for financial gain. Whether we serve wealth or poverty makes no difference because both take our eyes off of the Giver of all gifts and focus them on the gifts themselves.
But, what other options do we have?
If both the greedy accumulation of wealth and the choice to live in poverty can become idols in our lives, how can we keep ourselves in check so we don’t become servants of money?
Two words: daily bread.
Proverbs 30:7-9
"Two things I ask of you, O LORD;
do not refuse me before I die:
Keep falsehood and lies far from me;
give me neither poverty nor riches,
but give me only my daily bread.
Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you
and say, 'Who is the LORD ?'
Or I may become poor and steal,
and so dishonor the name of my God.”
This seems, to me, like a decent enough paradigm for a healthy view of money and possessions.
Another thing: we must learn to say “I have enough.”
There is a simple but substantial pleasure in being content with what is sufficient to meet our needs and the needs of those surrounding us. As frightening as it might be for some people to live without a large emergency supply of resources or an impressive collection of fine things, hoarding money and collecting handbags doesn’t seem to be a part of God’s economy.
A real life example: the late musician Rich Mullins.
Toward the end of Rich Mullins's career he made a lot of money, but you'd never know it by looking at how he lived. Though he made hundreds of thousands of dollars, he chose to live on $24,000 a year—the average working man's wage. He told his accountant not to tell him how much money he had. It was easier to give it away if he didn't know how much he had, he said with a smile.
Rich's sister, Debbie, recalls a time when she saw how little he cared for fame and its trappings:
"I went with a friend to see him when he was playing with Amy Grant at Radio City Music Hall. After the concert we were standing outside, and this white limousine someone had provided for him pulled up to take him back to the hotel. He told the driver to go on because he wanted to ride with the guys in the equipment van. We said goodbye, and he left in the van.
"My friend said, 'Do you ever get tired of people treating your brother like he's different from you or anyone else?'
"When I said no, she asked why. I said, 'Because he is different. I would have gotten into the limo.'" – An excerpt from a Christianity Today article.
One last thing: Those people who happen to either have a surplus of resources or a clever mind in economics should use their gifts wisely, for the advancement of the Kingdom of God and not for their own gain.
Another real life example: John D. Rockefeller Jr.
I know, I know, the Rockefellers are a sordid bunch and much could be said about their business dealings. But, I would like to point out one little fact. During the Great Depression, when unemployment was at 25% across the nation, John D. Rockefeller Jr. invested nearly every penny he had in a radical venture: building what would come to be known as the Rockefeller Center in New York City. In a time when the world’s richest men were clinging to whatever money was left after the stock market crashed, Rockefeller ventured into the largest private building project ever undertaken in modern times (according to Wikipedia). Here’s the kicker: his project gainfully employed 40,000 people.
Call me crazy, but I think he may be a modern-day Joseph. (See the book of Genesis for that story.)
I suppose my point is this:
“… godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that. People who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge men into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.
“But you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses…
“Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life.”
I Timothy 6-12; 17-19
'Nuf said.
| | |
|
Reflections on the ten biggest lessons I've learned in the past year:
1. I do not miss television.
A while back, the goons of television warned us of the coming apocalypse known as "The Big Switch." We never bought the convertor box. Nor did we rush to get internet access, which would allow us to watch our favorite television shows online. Instead, we let the Big Switch come and go and leave us with a blank tv screen. Six months have gone by and I don't miss television one bit.
I've spent the better part of the past 10 years without television and so have never been much of a television watcher to begin with, but I can still see the difference in my life this past year. My husband and I spend more time together at night; my son never watches television or DVDs (even if they've been marketed for kids); my friends and I never circle around mindless television to pass our time together; I have weened myself from needing background noise to live my life; I am more sensitive to the language, violence, and sexuality in media I do consume.
Yes, we have a DVD player that we use about once or twice a month to watch a movie while our son is asleep. And, yes, we have watched about a dozen episodes of television shows online. And, yes, we will definitely have to find a friendly place to watch the final season of LOST. And, someday, John and I may revert back to a TV-watching family. For now, though, I am happy that the idiot box has been rid from our home and we have no plans to bring it back.
2. Family is important.
No one could have prepared me for the way having a child would change my perspective on my own family and how much it would strengthen my desire to be near them. Meeting my husband and planning my wedding was difficult to do without having my parents and siblings nearby, but having my first child has been even more difficult. Now that I am beginning to understand a parent's love for their child, I am more sympathetic to my parents' desire to be a part of mine and my child's lives. Although I have far from perfected the art of "keeping in touch," I am learning that the relationships between me and my parents or siblings and, likewise, my children and their grandparents are priceless and should be maintained at all costs, even if those relationships are sometimes strained, uncomfortable, or painful. 'Nuff said.
3. Playing music is a part of who I am.
I have, for the past nine or so years, had a shoddy part-time career as a songwriter and musician. This part of my life has ebbed and flowed, becoming sometimes omnipresent and sometimes taking a seat in the background of my life. The past year has been particularly difficult for my music, as I try to find the time and (both physical and emotional) energy to write and play. Here at the beginning of a new year, as my son is approaching his first birthday and I am really getting into the rhythm of parenting, I am hoping to free up some of that time and energy to keep my music moving forward. I don't know what part my music should play in the this season of my life, nor what role it should take in the future. Heck, I don't even care. All I know is that music is a part of who I am--it always has been--and I am not being true to who God has made me if I neglect it completely. Besides, I have an album to finish, dammit!
4. We need each other.
Long story short: no man is an island.
I cannot express enough my newfound insistence on living in community with like-minded folks. I know this requires serious changes to myself and my expectations, but I am convinced that it's necessary for happiness and survival. And I'm not talking about "small group," meet-once-a-week-over-coffee-and-talk-about-what's-new-on-Facebook kind of community. I'm thinking of something much more dangerous and very, very scary for a severe introvert such as myself. Check back with me in a few years about how this does or does not work out for me...
5. Walking is awesome.
I am beginning to believe that life was meant to be lived on foot.
(Okay, I know this is an exaggeration, but I'm going to stick by it. Apart from roadtrips and the such, I would love to continue moving toward a car-free life. I make no guarantees for the future, but I'm enjoying walking for now.)
6. Among other things, I have discovered that I am bad at:
making small talk; cleaning the refrigerator; saying "I love you"; apologizing; asking for advice; taking advice; sharing; waking up early; communicating in a way that makes sense to anyone but me; rolling with the punches; saving money; talking on the phone; loving God more than myself, my husband, and my son; trusting people.
And, I have learned that being bad at these things does not excuse me from doing them. In fact, it means I must work harder to do them until they are easy.
7. Among other things, I have discovered that I am good at:
baking; being a mom; planning ahead; packing the trunk; talking to strangers; empathizing; paying bills; being quiet; keeping my mouth shut; fighting back; telling the truth.
8. Children grow up too quickly.
If time does go by faster as you get older, then I think it goes double-time once you have children. The past year has been the most remarkable lesson in savoring every moment as I have watched my baby boy grow. My son went from a slimy, bullet-shaped-head little baby who could barely keep his eyes open to a walking, chatting, dancing, smiling little boy in what seemed like the blink of an eye. How did this happen!? At first, he could not even turn his head on his own, but now he is big and strong and stubborn as a mule, learning when to be independent and when to come to me and his Daddy for help. It really is a miracle how much children learn in their first few months and I am thankful every day to be here to see it.
9. My husband was a good choice.
Our first year of marriage was hard. We got pregnant immediately after we got married, and so we had a very short "honeymoon period" in our marriage. This past year was even more difficult, as we were initiated into doctor's bills, childcare woes, and the stress and exhaustion that came with a new baby. There were other difficulties: long hours at work, unpaid debts, disappointments with friends, etc. But though year was not, by any stretch of the imagination, easy for us, I have never been more convinced that I am right where I want to be and married to exactly who I need to be.
Get to know me and my husband a little bit and it will become evident pretty quickly that we are very different: he wears black, I like brown; he likes stainless steel and concrete; I prefer wood; he eats meat and potatoes, I'm a rice and veggies kind of girl. These differences extend pretty deep, too, and our relationship, from the moment we met, has been colored by some pretty intense debate. And as we were getting to know each other, what kept me coming back for more was, first of all, our mutual respect for each other and, second of all, how well we seemed to work together even though we seemed to disagree about so much. Time has proven that we don't actually disagree as much as we thought we did, but that our fundamental differences often cause us to come to the same place in two very different ways. And this has actually become a strength for us at times, helping us to balance each other out and to understand ourselves better as we learn to navigate the world through each other's eyes. This year has been hard, but we are learning that even when circumstances around us are shifting, we need to keep holding to each other and finding solace at home where there are no enemies and we're in this together. I am so thankful for that.
10. Dreams are important.
The past year served us a pretty big disappointment, when we had to let go of a dream we'd been following for the year prior. This situation called into question our fundamental beliefs about ourselves, our vision for our family, and our work in Cincinnati. For the few months that followed, nothing we were doing seemed to make sense or mean anything. It was a really difficult time both individually and together. Then, about a month ago, something changed. We tried to buy a house and though we didn't win the bidding war, but we did learn a very important lesson: sometimes the dreaming is what keeps us moving forward.
John and I are people of vision. What I mean by that is that we both see ourselves and our family as a small part of picture much larger than ourselves. Our desire is not to serve our own interests or the interests of those around us, but to be worthy of the calling we've received and to be faithful to it. This is both a blessing and a curse, as we are prone to incredible disappointments and failures as we try to work through our place in the picture. The last few months of 2009 was a season of confusion as we tried to figure out what our next step would be. Then, we found this house. And, somehow, this particular house and everything it symbolized to us--a homestead for our family, space for our ministry, hospitality for our friends, etc.--reminded us of that shared vision and calling on our lives. Suddenly, the house didn't really matter. We stared dreaming out loud again, convinced that it was possible that the pieces could come together for us. And so the disappointments of the past year began to make way for the future and we had a little hope again. It was there all along; We just needed the reminder.
Happy New Year!
I hope 2010 brings lesson upon lesson to make us stronger, wiser, and more faithful to the calling we've received. Peace. | | |
| Most of us don't require much worship from those around us. We are quite satisfied with worshiping ourselves.
Case in point:
Facebook.
I could, literally, stop there.
The phenomena of internet blogging, social networking, and all forms of self-publishing (books, music, 'zines, etc.) all prove my point. I'm sure there are some people content to remain anonymous in the world, but most of us are far too self-important to remain unknown. We are proud of our ideas, our accomplishments, our appearance, our taste in music, and those clever photos we took one sunny day five years ago in Italy. Not only are we proud of those things, but we actually believe that other people need to be aware of them! We disguise our self-promotions as "community" and a means of social or intellectual interaction to make sure that we don't appear as self-obsessed as we really are, but if you look closely enough, you can sometimes see right through it.
I see it in myself.
Very often.
And it's disgusting.
The very act of writing this blog might be an exercise in self-worship.
There is, after all, a very fine line between the sharing of ideas and a game of show-and-tell, is there not? I am the only one who can know the desire of my heart in sharing my stories, my thoughts, and my ideas and I must continually ask myself: Am I really looking for an intellectual interaction with my readers, or am I like that anxious kindergartner, screaming, "Look at me! Look at me!" when all I'm holding in my hands is the same five-dollar pet turtle that millions of five year-olds before have brought into this same classroom, thinking that their five-dollar turtle is somehow more special than the millions that came before? It's a bit of a stretch for a metaphor, but maybe you understand.
Whether we think good or ill, we think far too much about ourselves.
I continually remind myself, as I obsess about my social anxiety and awkwardness with other people: "Liz, people don't think nearly as much about you as you think about yourself. Chances are, you are barely a blip on their radar." We can all probably use this reminder time and time again, and it should be a comfort to us. We need not worry so much about what other people are thinking of us because, frankly, everybody else is probably just thinking of themselves.
Let me take this a step further and discuss a deeper form of self-worship: self-righteousness.
This is probably the most obvious form of self-worship because it's the one we notice most in other people. Funny, though, that it's the one we're most blind to in ourselves.
This form of idolatry rears its ugly head every time we see a fault in another person that we are unwilling to acknowledge in ourselves.
Case in point:
Racism.
Racism is, essentially, a blindness to ones own cultural ills and an extreme sensitivity to others'. We know that every culture has aspects that are to be lauded and those that deserve criticism. So, a person's criticism of a cultural ill does not warrant the mark of "racist," but the refusal to admit ones own cultural ills does. The opposite, therefore, of racism is not tenacious appreciation of an other culture and a complete accepting of its faults, but an honest conversation about the sin that lies in the hearts of all men and an efficacious love that makes all culture better. Any person, on any side of the racism issue, who refuses to admit the problems they've inherited with their cultural context, is culturally self-righteous and an idolater of their own culture.
This happens a lot in the context of the Church and sin in the life of the Believer.
One man, proud of his conquering a certain sin that seems to be prevalent in his life, believes himself to be more righteous than another man who is still struggling with sin. Or the other man can similarly serve himself by indulging in his sin because he knows that it is the work of God to change him and so he feels no responsibility to humble himself under discipline. Both are equally idolatrous, believing that their experience of sin and sanctification is and should be normative for all Believers and standing in judgement of those who are either less or more sanctified. There is, of course, one truth that keeps both men in check in this situation: all have sinned and fall short. This is the one truth that strikes through both forms of idolatry. The one man will always be reminded that, though God may have purged him of a particular sinful act, a sinful heart still lingers until he is completely perfected in Christ; The other man must never forget that, though God for one reason or another may not have purged him of his sin quite yet, he is still accountable for the debt of sin which leaves him condemned apart from Christ.
None are righteous apart from Christ.
None.
He, not us, must be the God to which we compare both ourselves and others.
Compared to Him, we all fall short.
Now, let's go even a step further and discuss what I think is the most insidious form of self-worship: identity and self-esteem.
Who are you?
What words would you use to define yourself physically?
Socially?
Spiritually?
Be careful.
This is dangerous territory.
For example:
"I am talented."
It has taken me years to learn that it is usually best to let other people have the chance to exercise their gifts instead of me--especially in church.
It is disgusting for me to think that I am the only person capable of serving!
"I am smart."
It has taken me years to learn to keep my mouth shut and not feel like I must always share whatever burning comment is on the tip of my tongue.
It is deplorable for me to think that everyone needs to hear everything I have to say!
"I am cool."
Beginning when I got my first job that required a standard work wardrobe, and still to this day, I am embarrassed to wear khaki pants.
It is pathetic to be so attached to eccentricity that I cannot feel like myself in any plain old clothes!
The moment we begin to define our own identity, we start on a slippery slope toward self-worship.
There is a safe point on this slope, of course, for we know that God created each of us with unique traits that color us a bit differently than the next person. These differences are good and point to a brilliant, creative God. But, we would be foolish to think that what makes us different from another person is what gives us value. Our value, in fact, comes not from who we are or what we are like, but from the God to whom we belong. And to him, I would be bold to say, it really does not matter whether or not we are wearing khaki pants.
This extends to our notion of self-esteem, as well. Chances are, whatever makes me feel good about myself is what leads me to self-worship. And, conversely, whatever makes me feel bad about myself has just as much control over me. The very concept of esteeming one's self is contrary to a Biblical view of identity and the person with low "self-esteem" is just as guilty of idolatry as the person who loves himself because his identity is still defined by himself and not by God.
Where does this leave us? If both hating and loving oneself is idolatry, then is there any hope for us?
In a word, no. But, we can at least trust that God is in the habit of using hopeless situations for His own purposes. Maybe what we all need is a certain amount of self-indifference. If we can learn to hold ourselves loosely enough, maybe we can be liberated to serve God more fully and allow Him his proper place in our hearts and in the world.
"Be Thou exalted over my reputation. Make me ambitious to please Thee even if as a result I must sink into obscurity and my name be forgotten as a dream. Rise, O Lord, into Thy proper place of honor, above my ambitions, above my likes and dislikes, above my family, my health and even my life itself. Let me decrease that Thou mayest increase, let me sink that Thou mayest rise above. Ride forth upon me as Thou didst ride into Jerusalem mounted upon the humble little beast, a colt, the foal of an ass, and let me hear the children cry to Thee, 'Hosanna in the highest.' "
- A. W. Tozer, from The Pursuit of God.
| | |
| When I was in grade school, I had a friend who (in my mind) eptimized "cool." Everything about her--the music she listened to, the clothes she wore, her family home--proved it to me. She was the rule by which I measured myself and the model I chose for the way I lived my life.
I was her disciple and she was my idol.
This form of idolatry--which I'll call "worship of men"--often begins "innocently" enough. In my case, I was just trying to navigate my way through the "awkward years," and this friend had found the way. As far as my middle school mind was concerned, it was a matter of survival.
For some people, it begins with an idea, a vision, or a mission. Think: political leaders, philosophers, teachers, activists, or religious leaders.
For some people, it begins with a close relationship. Think: a parent, a lover, a child, or a pet.
For some people, it begins with proficiency in a respected art or act. Think: musicians, actors, poets, fine artists, or athletes.
How does this idolatry play out in our lives?
We follow.
We laud.
We obsess.
We invoke.
We defend.
We mimic.
We use.
We objectify.
Case(s) in point:
We are surprised to discover that our beloved political guru / religious leader / parent / songwriter / baseball player has been misappropriating campaign funds / flirting with his secretary / sneaking whiskey shots / plagiarizing music / using steroids and we are shocked. No, we are devastated. Our world comes crashing down, we don't know North from South, and we can't get out of bed for a week.
Don't misunderstand me: sin is never acceptable and should never be written off as simply an inconvenience of being human or something we should take as normative and then move on.
BUT.
We should never forget that sin is an inherent part of being human and that all men & women--regardless of their strength of ideology, vision, affection, faith, or ability--are capable of terrible things. After all, none of us are God, right?
As I grow older, my human idols continue to change.
Many have been musicians; some have been friends. (I once idolized a comic book character.) Now, I idolize celebrities for their fashion, strangers on the street for their alterna-mom hipness, bloggers online for their apparent mothering & housewife-ing perfection, the author of my favorite book, and I can even idolize the memory of myself before I had to be concerned about things like diaper sizes and "what's for dinner." But, then, I remember that celebrities have stylists and receive globs of free clothes. And that the woman on the street who seems really cool from a distance actually lives a fairly normal and not-hip life. And that the blogger online is actually exercising her own idolatry by blogging obsessively about motherhood. And that my life, before having a husband and baby, had its own set of difficulties and stress.
But, this form of idolatry ("worship of men") does not end there.
It gets much worse.
Case in point:
Someone near to us--a parent, friend, spouse, or child--moves away, is angry with us, grows terribly ill, or dies.
Please, again, do not misunderstand me.
I would never claim that to love someone, to miss them, or to mourn their loss is, in itself, idolatry.
BUT.
True, world-shattering devastation at such a loss signifies a need for that person as a form of sustenance.
I only feel compelled to discuss this form of idolatry because this is where my heart aches and where my crippling fears lie. The slightest thought of losing my husband, my son (or future children), my parents, or my brothers can stop my heart from beating and bring me to tears like nothing else can. In this area, I may be the chief of sinners. And, so, being aware of my sinfulness, when my mind wanders to this ever-present fear of losing someone dear to me I have learned to close my eyes, breathe deep, and confess my fears. It is almost embarrassing how often I must pray, "Lord, cleanse my idolatrous heart. Let me love you more than them."
Barbara Youderian, on the night she was told of her husband's death, wrote these words:
"God gave me this verse two days ago, Psalm 48:14, 'For this God is our God for ever and ever; He will be our Guide even unto death.' As I came face to face with the news of Roj's death, my heart was filled with praise. He was worthy of his home-going... I wrote a letter to the mission family, trying to explain the peace I have. I want to be free of self-pity. It is a tool of Satan to rot away a life. I am sure that this is the perfect will of God... The Lord has closed our hearts to grief and hysteria, and filled in with His perfect peace."
(Lord, may I have that peace when confronted with the same heartbreak.)
It is no surprise that what leads to many of our greatest disappointments is the sin of idolatry. We place the most impressive or beloved people in our life on the pedestal of our hearts and then struggle through the painful recovery and crippling disappointment after they come crashing down before us. All but God will eventually disappoint because no man, woman, child (or pet puppy dog) can fulfill our need for guidance, comfort, protection, worship, and affection; this great, gaping void inside us was meant to be filled by God alone.
It is not our need for a god to worship that makes us idolaters; it is the strength of our hearts' desire for all others above God that leads to idolatry.
Tell me, friends, can anyone other than God truly sustain us?
"I walked out to the hill just now. It is exalting, delicious, to stand embraced by the shadows of a friendly tree with the wind tugging at your coattail and the heavens hailing your heart, to gaze and glory and give oneself again to God--what more could a man ask? Oh, the fullness, pleasure, sheer excitement of knowing God on earth! I care not if I never raise my voice again for Him, if only I may love Him, please Him. Mayhap in mercy He shall give me a host of children that I may lead them through the vast star fields to explore His delicacies whose finger ends set them to burning. But if not, if only I may see Him, touch His garments, and smile into His eyes--ah then, not stars nor children shall matter, only Himself.
"O Jesus, Master and Center and End of all, how long before that Glory is thine which has so long waited Thee? Now there is no thought of Thee among men; then there shall be thought for nothing else. Now other men are praised; then none shall care for any other's merits. Hasten, hasten, Glory of Heaven, take Thy crown, subdue Thy Kingdom, enthrall They creatures." - Jim Elliot.
| | |
|
