Showing posts with label selfishness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label selfishness. Show all posts

Monday, January 27, 2020

Be Careful What You Wish For


Psalm 89:1-4

Mark 5:1-20



            In today’s gospel reading I am struck with the reality that one person’s hopes, dreams, and wishes are sometimes in conflict with what others wish for, hope and dream.  In today’s story, Jesus listens and responds to four different parties’ wishes:  the man with the demons, the demons themselves, those who tended the swine, and the people of the region who then begged Jesus to leave.  And Jesus attended to each of those (again, even the demons – a point that is well worth thinking about) at each step of the way.  For example, he responds to the man with the demons by sending them out, but the demons request being sent into the pigs.  So, he sends the demons into the pigs, but this obviously upsets the people whose job it is to tend the pigs, so then a further request is made for him to leave town, which he also does.  The man is cured, but the pigs are harmed.  The pigs go into the water, which then threatens the livelihoods of those who tend the pigs.  And eventually, Jesus is sent away out of fear because of his power.  Each request leads to a consequence, which leads to another request, and Jesus attends to them all.  Still, in the end, the man is cured, healing has happened, a miracle has occurred, and that which was really needed has come about.

            This story makes it very clear, though: sometimes the things we want may seem to be best for us, but aren’t best for others, or even for ourselves necessarily. 

            In the movie Bruce Almighty, Bruce is given the opportunity to play God or be God for awhile.  And when he hears the huge or “ginormous” (as my kids would say) numbers of prayers coming his way constantly, he feels completely overwhelmed at first.  But one of the complaints that led to God giving Bruce a try at being God was that Bruce felt God didn’t respond well to prayers, didn’t respond to people’s needs and wants.  So Bruce felt it was important to do things differently than God had, and he decided that the easiest way and best way to attend to everyone’s prayers and wishes was just to say “yes” to them all.  Can you imagine the results that followed?  The chaos that ensued was outrageous, though my guess is that the destruction depicted was not nearly as much as it would have been in real life.  For example, many, many people prayed to win the lottery.  They all did, which meant that each person only won a few cents.  This was followed by riots and rebellion.  Bruce had also pulled the moon closer to the earth and this caused all sorts of weather problems, which caused power failures and other issues.  Some people praying for one thing contradicted others praying for opposing wishes and the result was a complete mess.  Confusion, destruction, outrage –chaos.

            I am also reminded of Mark Twain’s story “The War Prayer”.  The story takes place in a church during a time of war.  And the pastor is praying for their side to win the war.  Mark Twain says it like this:  “The burden of (the prayer’s) supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory…” He then ends the prayer with “Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord and God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!”  But as he is saying this prayer, an old and disheveled stranger walks to the front of the room, nudges the pastor aside and Mark Twain continues the story in this way: The stranger said: “I come from the Throne — bearing a message from Almighty God!” The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. “He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import — that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of — except he pause and think.  God’s servant and yours has prayed his prayer.  Has he paused and taken thought?  Is it one prayer?  No, it is two — one uttered, and the other not.  Both have reached the ear of Him who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken.  Ponder this — keep it in mind.  If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon your neighbor at the same time.  If you pray for the blessing of rain on your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse on some neighbor’s crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.”  The stranger goes on to describe the reality that when we pray for victory for our own, we are praying for destruction of the other.  When we pray that our soldiers might fight and win with strength and might, we are praying that others might die and be destroyed in horrible ways.  When we pray to win, we are praying for others to lose.  When we pray to come out on top, we are praying that others might fail.  It is a short story and it is well worth reflecting on.  But the point is not about war prayers.  The point is much bigger than that. 

            Do we think about all the ramifications of our prayers?  Do we think about our neighbors when we pray – ALL of our neighbors when we pray?  I shared with you before the story of the televangelist who, during a hurricane about 20 years ago, took a group of folk down to the coast to prove the power of prayer.  These few people stood on the beach and prayed that the storm would not hit them.  The storm did, in fact, avoid them, but instead it hit a town full of people who were injured or killed.  Those who travelled to the coast proved that their prayers were answered.  At what cost did they pray them?  The people who stood on the shore to pray did not live there.  They flew there to show the power of prayer.  If, in fact, those prayers were the reason the storm went north and hit the town instead, was their proving that prayer worked worth the cost to all of those injured people, families who lost loved ones and people who incurred great property damage? 

            I need to say here that I don’t really believe that God cares so little for the consequences of our prayers that God only pays attention to what we say and not what others need or what is best for everyone.  Even in today’s story, the man with the demons was not asking Jesus to help him but Jesus chose to do it anyway.  I think God is wiser and more loving than to simply answer prayers regardless of consequences.  None the less, none the less, I think that we are called to think through our prayers, to think through the consequences of those requests, to have a bigger vision for the needs of the community, of the world, of our neighbors, and indeed for our enemies as well.  We are called to do that as part of our loving our neighbors as ourselves.  We are called to do that to help us to have a bigger vision of what others needs.  We are called to do that so that we may grow in compassion and love and deepen in our relationships with God.  And we are called to consider our prayers seriously, since unforeseen and negative consequences to others impact us as well.  We are also called to think through our requests in prayers because sometimes we, too, reap negative consequences of the things we wish for, hence the saying, “be careful what you wish for.”  We know from personal experience that sometimes the very things we want turn out not to be best for us.  Can you think of a time when you got what you wanted, only to discover it came with a great cost? 

            In the movie  Grumpy Old Men, the Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau characters have been at each other ever since they were young men because they had both fallen in love with the same woman.  Jack Lemmon’s character won that particular battle, but ended up with a wife who was unfaithful and whom he eventually divorced.  Walter Matthau’s character could never forgive him, though in losing his wish for Meg, he ended up with a wonderful and very faithful wife instead.  And this story, while shown in the movie as a story, is too real.  It is real in the sense that many people have shared with me stories of heartbreaks in which they prayed fervently for a loved one to continue to stay with them, only to find someone who was so much better a partner for them, someone they never would have found if their original prayers had been answered.

            So where does this leave us?  Does it leave us afraid to pray for what we want?  Does it leave us trapped in the saying “be careful what you wish for” and therefore afraid to wish for anything?  No.  We are still called to be open and honest with God, to talk to God about our feelings and hopes, our fears and our heartbreaks.  But I do think we are encouraged to stay aware, even as we share our deepest desires, that God knows better than we do what is best for us, what is best for others, what is best for the world.  I think we are encouraged to listen for God’s guidance and leading in our prayers and strive to pray for those things God calls us to pray for.  And I always believe that ending our prayers with “yet not my will but yours be done” after we have had open and honest conversation is a good practice.  After all, Jesus modeled this for us in the garden of Gethsemane, as he first shared his hope that he might not have to die – honestly sharing feelings, and then ended his prayer with “yet not my will but yours be done.” 

            In today’s story, each request had consequences that led to further requests.  But the good news is that God listens every time to those further requests.  God does care about what we want, what we ask for, and what we need, even when those are different things.  God listens to us, God responds to us, and God strives always to give us that which will bring the most healing and the most wholeness for everyone.  Amen.

Thursday, November 9, 2017

What is Love?

      I've found myself thinking about love a great deal lately.  We all want to be loved deeply and unconditionally.  But what does that mean?  When I think of love in its purest form, I really value the definition of Scott Peck who says something along the lines of "to love someone is to want and to work for that person's highest good."  I value that definition of love because it is all about the person who is being loved.  It is focused on them: on what is best for them.  It is deeply caring, deeply concerned, deeply empathetic as it requires really knowing the other, really seeing the other, and really valuing the other as the unique person that they are.  We all want to be loved this way: for ourselves.  We want to be appreciated, we want to be cherished.  We want to be seen and understood, to be the focus of someone's attention and affection.
      I believe most parents strive to love their children in this way: to love them for exactly who they are, to want what is best for them, and to work for their highest good. When we hear about parents rejecting their children, for whatever reason, we recognize it for the tragedy and travesty that it is.  We know those parents are not fulfilling their job as unconditionally loving care-givers.  And we see the devastation that results in the suicides and chronic depression that far too often follows parental rejection.  When parental love happens the way it is supposed to, we know it to be the truest and deepest form of love.
       We also envision this kind of love coming from the Divine, from God, whatever we understand that to be.  This love is a selfless, and unconditional caring for the other.  From God we expect that love to see us fully for who we are, to know us completely, and especially, to understand and accept and value us exactly as we are.  That is the ultimate in love.  And when we talk about being called by faith to love one another, this is the kind of love of which we speak.  We are mandated to see, care and have compassion for each other, expecting and wanting nothing in return, even as we work for the highest good of the other.
      But there are other ways in which we usually use the word "love" that I think require a different word altogether.  We often use the word "love" in relationship to romantic attachments, for example.  But this kind of love is not unconditional, and it is far from selfless.  It is a kind of "love" that wants, hopes and expects to be returned.  It is a "love" that is seeking something for the self, a kind of barter-love in which I will care for you if and when you care for me.  And at the point at which you stop caring for me, I will do everything I can to stop caring for you in return because this kind of love feels pain when it is not returned in the same way.  This thing we call love is a desire for something for ourselves - an intimacy, a connection and a care from the other.  It is motivated by self-interest and a yearning for closeness.  It is limited by circumstances and qualified by a trade in affection that we hope will be even.  It is everything the kind of love we hope for from God or from parents is not.  We often idolize this kind of love.  But less and less do I see this as ideal.  Yes, we need relationships.  Yes, we need mutuality.  Yes, we need intimacy.  But is this love?  Not the way I understand it.  Not the way we are called to offer it.  
      The same is true of friendships.  Most friendships require a mutuality, a give and take, a trading of affections for them to be considered "loving".  "Love" in a friendship is conditional upon trust, mutuality and commonalities. But again, this is not "Love" the way we are called to give it.
      I believe all of the deepest spiritual leaders model the first, ideal love for us, but since I am most familiar with Jesus, I will point out some of the ways in which he did this, calling us to do the same.
      First of all, he never demanded that someone change before loving or caring for them.  He loved them and that allowed some people to change, but the love, the unconditional love, always came first.  He prevented the stoning of the woman caught in adultery before inviting her to change.  He offered healing water to the woman at the well before telling her her past history.  He offered to eat with Zacchaeus without reservation or comment and Zacchaeus chose to change as a result.  He healed the ten lepers, even though only one returned to give thanks.  Again and again, he offered care and love unconditionally and fully.  That love was so great and so transformative that it invited people to grow, but it never insisted on it.
     Second, he offered the care that wanted the highest good for everyone, even those trying to hurt him.  He never refused to respond to the pharisees, he never turned against the soldiers who arrested him with violence, he ate in the homes of friends and foes alike.  He was always willing to engage people, wherever they came from on the political or theological or social spectrum because he wanted the highest good for all people, all of them - even when they were seeking to destroy him.
     Third, that care, that work towards the highest good took many forms, depending on the one in front of him.  Some needed healing.  Others needed lessons.  Some needed acceptance and saving from the wrath and rage of others (the woman who washed his feet with tears, the woman caught in adultery).  Whatever the person in front of him needed, he worked for their highest good in offering that.
      We know the result of this.  In return for his Love, those who "loved" him best offered the second kind of love: they wanted more from him than was possible.  He was constantly being pursued when he went off to pray, he was constantly being sought after, even when he needed time to himself.  Judas tried to push him into the actions that Judas wanted and ended up betraying him instead.  People did not see him for who he was, they did not offer him care for who he was, they could not Love him with the kind of love he offered to them.  Offering real Love back to God, or to the world seemed and seems an impossibility for most people.  And still, we are called to love with the ideal love that we have seen demonstrated.
      I have said to many people that I never knew what it was to love until I became a parent.  I am so grateful for the experience of that kind of deep, unconditional caring because it reminds me that I am to strive to love everyone with that same kind of "I will do what is best for you no matter how you feel about me" way.  Being a parent has been practice for me in loving others who sometimes don't want that love, sometimes don't return it, sometimes push it away in angry ways.  It showed me what unconditional, full love really looks like.  It also holds up to me a mirror for those times when I am failing to love in this way but instead am seeking an emotional trade with someone else instead.  Again, we do all need that kind of intimacy and mutual relationships as well.  But that is not Love.  For me, I hope to grow more loving towards all people, even those who are enemies and even those from whom I want that mutual intimacy and emotional trade.  It is a journey, it is a learning.  But it is worth the effort.  For as Jesus said of the one leper who did return to give thanks - it is in that return that he was truly healed.  It is in the Loving that we truly experience the gifts of Love.  It is in the true unconditional caring that we come to meet the Divine.  It is in giving Love that we come to know Love.

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

The Tragedy of the Commons

Exodus 3:1-15
Matthew 16:21-28

               While we were on vacation, I took my family to the Exploratorium.  They have an exhibit currently on social dilemmas in which people are invited to look at times when they choose for themselves and their own best interests, vs times when they choose for the good of everyone, the common good, the highest good for others.  The exhibit entrance starts with a look at what was originally called the tragedy of the commons.  The tragedy of the commons describes a situation of cattle herders sharing a common parcel of land on which they are each entitled to let their cows graze, (this used to be the way it was done in English villages).  If a herder puts more than his allotted number of cattle on the common, overgrazing may result. For each additional animal that a herder adds to the common, that individual herder will benefit, but the whole group will suffer from the damage to the commons. If all herders were to make this individually rational economic decision, the common would be depleted or even destroyed, which would harm every herder there, including the one seeking self-betterment by putting more than his fair share of animals on the land. 
           The tragedy of the commons has been used to study many things including sustainability, care for the environment, economic systems and human psychology.  And, depending on who does the study and how the study is done, the results vary between communities where people put their own self-interest above others and communities where people truly work together for everyone’s best interest. In the United States, the study tended to show people to be more selfish and self-oriented, taking advantage of what was common to serve themselves above others, and only really understanding, too late that what was harmful for others, also was harmful to themselves. 
               Another part of the exhibit explored a study called the Career criminal dilemma: The scenario is as follows: Two members of a criminal gang are arrested and imprisoned. Each prisoner is in solitary confinement with no means of communicating with the other. The prosecutors lack sufficient evidence to convict the pair on the main charge. They hope to get both sentenced to a year in prison on a lesser charge. Simultaneously, the prosecutors offer each prisoner a bargain. Each prisoner is given the opportunity either to: betray the other by testifying that the other committed the crime, or to cooperate with the other by remaining silent. The offer is:
If A and B each betray the other, each of them serves 2 years in prison
If A betrays B but B remains silent, A will be set free and B will serve 3 years in prison (and vice versa)
If A and B both remain silent, both of them will only serve 1 year in prison (on the lesser charge)
       Obviously the best self-interest of each alone is to betray the other, though if they have a bigger view of connection or care for the other, then neither will betray the other.   Interestingly, usually in this situation, neither does betray the other.
               I’ve shared with you before one other example of this.  I have a family member who was a psychology professor at Cal State East Bay.  Every semester for his many years of teaching he used to do an experiment with his psychology class.  He would tell the class that everyone would have a choice about how many points they would get for attending class that day.  They could choose to get 5 points or 25 points.  However, if more than 15% of the class were to ask for 25 points, everyone in the class would get zero.  What do you think the results were?  Always the entire class would receive no points.  Every single time it was almost exactly 70% of the people in the class who would ask for the 25 points for themselves.  Even when they knew the results of other classes in which Gene had offered the test, the percentage was the same.  There was, however, one thing that could change that percentage.  If the professor told the class that those students who asked for the 25 points for themselves would have their names read aloud, the effect went away.  The fear of loss of social status was the only thing he found that was greater than the fear of not getting ahead in points.  That fits in with our other two examples.  In the prison dilemma, both would have been aware of what the other had chosen, so the pressure to act in a way which benefits the other is strong.  This is opposed to the tragedy of the commons in which people could probably find reasons to justify and ways to hide the choice to be more selfish.  These experiments also show us that much of the issue here has to do with personal connections.  People act and vote and generally choose behaviors that benefit those of their own community – their own family, their own economic class, their own race… people generally act in the best interests of people they understand, can relate to, who look like them and share cultural commonalities.
               My children recently found and purchased a book entitled Hyperbole and a Half (Simon and Schuster, Oct 29, 2013).  In one section, author Allie Brosh wrote,
“I like to believe that I would behave heroically in a disaster situation.  I like to think this because it makes me feel good about myself.  Conveniently it is very unlikely that I will ever actually have to do anything to prove it.  As long as I never encounter a disaster situation, I can keep believing I’m a hero indefinitely.  Similarly, I can safely believe that I am the type of person who would donate a kidney to a loved one, give a million dollars to help save the animals, and survive a biological disaster due to my superior immune system and overwhelming specialness.  As long as no one I love ever needs a kidney, I don’t become a millionaire, and my immune system is never put to the test by an antibiotic-resistant super flu, these are just things I can believe for free.
It gets a bit trickier when I want to believe a thing about myself that actually requires me to do or think something.  The things I am naturally inclined to do and think are not the same as the things I want to believe I would do and think.  And I’m not even slightly realistic about what I want to be.  …I desperately want to believe I would seize the opportunity to help a loved one without a second thought for my own well-being but I’m almost certain it wouldn’t play out like that. …   What I am is constantly thrust into my face while I’m trying to be better than I am.  Even if I’m actively doing all the right things, I can’t escape the fact that my internal reactions are those of a fundamentally horrible person. I don’t just want to do the right thing. I want to WANT to do the right thing. … being aware of not wanting to do the right thing ruins my ability to enjoy doing the right thing after I’m forced into doing it through shame.“
               The point is that these feelings are pretty normal, I think.  If you realize that 70% of us, at least in the United States, choose selfishly for themselves in a class room of highly educated people, that means that probably 70% of folk struggle with that sense of wanting more for ourselves and focusing predominantly on caring for ourselves and our loved ones rather than for the “least” of these.  I say in the United States because we know there are other cultures that do not behave this way.  For example in South Africa, there is a word they use: Ubuntu.  It means, “I am because we are.”  The belief behind it is that they understand that each person does not and cannot exist in isolation.  How this manifests in South Africa: if someone asks for something, they are given it because you exist together and what serves one serves all.  An anthropologist had been studying the habits and customs of this tribe, and when he finished his work, had to wait for transportation that would take him to the airport to return home. He’d always been surrounded by the children of the tribe, so to help pass the time before he left, he proposed a game for the children to play. He’d bought lots of candy and sweets in the city, so he put everything in a basket with a beautiful ribbon attached. He placed it under a solitary tree, and then he called the kids together. He drew a line on the ground and explained that they should wait behind the line for his signal. And that when he said “Go!” they should rush over to the basket, and the first to arrive there would win all the candies. When he said “Go!” they all unexpectedly held each other’s hands and ran off towards the tree as a group. Once there, they simply shared the candy with each other and happily ate it. The anthropologist was very surprised. He asked them why they had all gone together, especially if the first one to arrive at the tree could have won everything in the basket – all the sweets. A young girl simply replied: “How can one of us be happy if all the others are sad?”
               But in the United States, we are a culture that is more focused on individualism.  As a result, it is harder for us to remember that we truly are all connected and that what hurts you hurts me.  One of my favorite quotes as a result is: a good person fights for themself and their own. A Great person fights for everyone else.
               What does all of this have to do with our faith?  Today we heard two stories.  The first was about Moses who was called to set the people of Israel free from their enslavement.  It is important for us to remember the context of who Moses was, because although he himself was born of an Israelite mother, he was raised by the Pharoah’s daughter.  He was brought up with all privileges and advantages of being in the royal palace with those in charge.  But from that place of privilege, he gave up all he had to fight those who had raised him, those who had loved him, those who had cared for him in order to set free the people of Israel.  Moses gave up his security, his privilege, his house and wealth and riches and travelled in the desert for 40 years.  He died there, following God’s call, after having given up everything to help lead people out of slavery. 
Then we have Jesus.  Jesus gave up his life loving us, caring for us.  But he also told us that we are called to follow.  In this passage he is very, very clear.  “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.  For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it.” 
When we are willing to die caring for Jesus, caring for God, caring for the ones God loves, caring for God’s children, we will find our lives.  When we put our own self-interests first, we will lose our lives.  We will be lost.  The tragedy of the commons says the same thing: when we put our self-interest above the self-interest of others, all of us lose out.  ALL of us.  We go down as well.  According to the experiment that my brother and law always did, only about 30% of folk get that.  The rest?  Not so much.  But our faith calls us to act on behalf of the least of these, the poorest, the most oppressed, the most displaced, as Moses did, as Jesus did, even when we don’t feel like it, even when we want to do only what is best for ourselves and those closest to us, even when we are afraid. 
               This desire to care for others should affect every single decision that we make.  How do we spend our money?  Where do we shop?  Does the places we shop and the things we buy use child labor?  Do they damage or harm others?  How do we vote?  Do we vote in ways that lift up the poor, the oppressed, those suffering?  How do we decide what to do with the money we “earn” that has been entrusted to us by God to use for the glory of God?  How do we treat the “least of these” – those who are poor or oppressed or struggling?  How do we treat those who make us uneasy, those who are cruel, those who are mean, those with whom we disagree?  How do we behave in our cars towards others who are unkind or who make mistakes?  How do we behave even when we are afraid?  Do we take from others to save ourselves?  Or do we willingly put ourselves at risk in order to care for God’s “least of these” in whom, we are told, we will find Jesus?
               As I was working on this sermon, a praise song came to mind, written by Matthew West, “My Own Little World”:
               In my own little worls, it harldy ever rains
               I’ve never gone hungry, I’ve always felt safe.
               I got some money in my pocket, shoes on my feet
               In my own little world: population me.

               I try to stay awake thru Sunday morning church
               I throw a twenty in the plate but I never give ‘til it hurts
               And I turn off the news when I don’t like what I see
               Yeah, it’s easy to do when it’s population me.

               What if there’s a bigger picture
               What if I’m missing out
               What if there’s a greater purpose
               I could be living right now
               Outside my own little world.

               Stopped at a red light, looked out the window
               I saw a cardboard sign that said, “help this homeless widow”
   Just above this sign was the face of a human
               I thought to myself, “God, what have I been doing?”
               So I rolled down the window and I looked her in the eye
               Oh how many times have I just passed her by
               I gave her some money then I drove on through
               In my own little world there’s population two.

               I’m going to break my heart for what breaks Yours
               Give me open hands and open doors
               Put Your light in my eyes and let me see
               That my own little world is not about me…


               Jesus is clear: we must be willing to lose our very lives for our enemies as well as those we love if we want to find them.  That is what it means to follow in the way, to follow the call of Jesus, to follow the God of Love.  It isn’t easy, but when we practice what is hard, it does become easier, it does become clearer.  The call is for all of us.  Amen.