Perspective not Presumption

Even among good friends, it sometimes happens. Rather than simply living in the reality of the relationship, one or the other of those in the relationship presume upon the other. It’s the “Well, of course she will . . .” or the “I have no doubts that he would . . . .” It isn’t that we don’t, at times, have healthy expectations about the relationship we enjoy with others–but there are times we move past reasonable expectations and stray into an unhealthy presumptuousness. Rather then thinking what “might be nice,” we drift toward “what must be.”

I felt just a twinge of this in reading Paul’s letter to Philemon. At first read, it seems that Paul borders on presumption. But only on first read.

At the same time also prepare me a lodging, for I hope that through your prayers I will be given to you. (Philemon 22)

What does Paul have in mind?

He has been writing to a good friend–Philemon. He has been writing about Philemon’s run-away slave–Onesimus. Paul has asked to receive Philemon back as a brother in the Lord and anticipates that Philemon will do “even more” than what Paul asks with regard to Onesimus.

In one sense, this all makes sense. Paul is sending Onesimus back to his former master, Philemon. Paul writes to Philemon to clarify what has happened to the run-away slave who has come to faith in Christ. And Paul invites Philemon to treat Onesimus consistent with Onesimus’ new-found faith. That doesn’t feel too presumptuous, given how well Paul knows Philemon.

But then Paul writes: “Prepare for me a lodging.” It sounds like he is inviting himself over for stay! “Get ready to put me up for a while!” That borders on presumptuous  . . . at least at first read. But, when I look at it closer, I don’t think Paul’s is presumptuous . . . it’s a matter of perspective.

Paul knows Philemon–really knows this man well. He anticipates how Philemon’s love will overflow into his relationship with Onesimus. Paul affirms how Philemon’s life in Christ influences his relationships with others. And Paul knows that Philemon not only is praying for Paul’s release from prison but is hoping for Paul’s return to Colossae where Philemon lives.

So knowing what he does about Philemon, the call to “prepare for me a lodging” is only Paul affirming what he knows about Philemon. Seeing Philemon for the man that he is, Paul can rightly assume (not presume!) that Philemon will be delighted to have a place for Paul when he arrives.

And all this lead me to one simple thought: Have I lived so consistently and lovingly and graciously with others that they could rightly assume (with the right perspective) how Christ-like I would be in extending grace to them if I were given the chance?

The Challenge of Speaking Up

Today I heard it. In conversation with another friend. We were talking about challenging relationships–some marital, some other. And we were discussing how to “speak up” and speak into the life of another when we notice something in their life that seems to be wrong, unhealthy, even sinful.

Because Scripture calls us to “admonish one another” (Romans 15:14), “speak truth . . . to one another” (Ephesians 4:25), “teaching and admonishing one another” (Colossians 3:16), and “stimulate one another to love and good deeds” (Hebrews 10:24), it is easy to begin to think that my role in the life of another is to help him or her see where he or she is falling short, not measuring up, living in sin. “In love,” I want to speak into another’s life to aid the other to see his or her shortcomings and sin.

Leveraging Jesus’ words, I embrace the role of the one who shows a brother his fault, pointing out his sin (Matthew 18:15). And because Jesus calls us to do this, there must be a time and place and way that we can do that very thing–speaking up and speaking into the life of another to awaken the other to sin or short-comings.

But then there comes that moment of honest self-reflection. (A little too infrequent, perhaps, but with the Spirit’s help it does happen!) Why do I feel the need to speak into the life of another? A pause. A moment of self-searching. An honest assessment. And it becomes clear.

Often I want to speak into the life of another because what he or she is doing tweaks me. I’m personally put out or inconvenienced or hurt by what the other said or did (or didn’t say or didn’t do). So my motive in speaking up is really to make my life a bit better, to help the other treat me the way I want to be treated, to help them see what they are not seeing so that I am less uncomfortable, less bothers, less offended.

And it is right there that another passage of Scripture comes rushing home to my heart.

Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves;  do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus . . .  (Philippians 2:3-5)

What does this mean? What is the implication? Although there is so much in this passage, there is one thing that specifically speaks to this idea of speaking up and speaking into the life of another.

“Do nothing from selfishness.” That’s pretty clear. Never. Don’t do anything because, primarily, it is to your benefit. That prods me to honesty about that desire to set someone else straight.

Am I doing because the Spirit has given me a real love for the other and because my desire really is for the good of that other . . . or is my desire to speak into the life of another stirred by my desire to make my own life easier, better, neater?

Simple question . . . but a big issue.

Does Anyone Really Live That Way?

The past few posts have explored the idea of non-reciprocal living. Doing life in such a way that we aren’t, fundamentally, living for what we can get from others. Where by leaning into the life that Jesus shares with us, we learn to love and give and serve “expecting nothing in return” (Luke 6:35; see the previous posts about “non-reciprocal living”).

Reading carefully, it became clear that Paul was calling the followers of Jesus in Philippi (and that includes us), to never do anything from selfishness–looking out for our own interests (Philippians 2:3-8). Although it sounded extreme, it’s clear Paul invites and anticipates that we would be able to live “Christ-like” by thinking about our living the way Jesus thought about living. (See “A Closer Look at Non-Reciprocal Living.”)

But does anyone really live that way? Sure, Jesus may have loved and served “expecting nothing in return.” Yes, Jesus might have given his life for us not looking out for his own interests. (After all, Jesus was God! But, I’m not!) Does anyone normal person really live this way? Can someone really live like that?

To help the Philippians understand the call to this kind of life (and to help us!) Paul offers a couple of examples to his readers. He mentions Timothy and Epaphroditus, men with whom the Philippians would have been acquainted. Look at what he says about them (drawing on Philippians 2:19-29):

Of Timothy, he says . . .

He is genuinely concerned for the welfare of others. He does not seek after his own interest as so many others do. His one priority is the benefit of others and the priorities of Christ Jesus. He serves for the furtherance of the Gospel. He has demonstrated this attitude over time–he has “proven worth.”

Of Epaphroditus, Paul writes . . .

He is a worker and “soldier” for the faith and good of others. His concerns were for the hearts and lives of others, even when suffering physically himself. He longed for the good of others. He risked his very life for the furtherance of the work of grace in the lives of others.

What does this mean? It means that Paul’s call to do nothing from selfishness is not unattainable, that Paul’s longing that we adopt a way of thinking about life that mirrors Jesus’ own attitude is not a “good idea” but not the way people really live. By grace, because of the Spirit, through their connection with Jesus, Timothy and Epaphroditus and Paul (and others!) have lived non-reciprocal lives. And by grace, because of the Spirit, and through our connection with Jesus we could live that way too.

Laboring in the Hope of a Miracle

I recently watched the movie The Miracle Worker, an old black-and-white film starring Anne Bancroft and a young Patty Duke, that tells the story of Annie Sullivan and Helen Keller.

When Annie Sullivan, herself a visually challenged fresh-out-of-school teacher arrives in the Keller home, young Helen–who has been blind, deaf, and mute since infancy–is a terror in the home and on the verge of being sent to an asylum. Annie grew up in such an asylum and has no heart for seeing Helen end up there. She believes that she can open the world to Helen if she can just communicate–through finger-spelling–with this child.

With love, patience, tenacity and grace, Annie ultimately enters into Helen’s world, Helen’s head, and Helen’s heart. Helen learns to communicate. And the world changes in a burst of insight for the brilliant but blind and deaf child.

What was so compelling for me in the film was the lengths that Annie went to bring Helen the help she needed–but wasn’t even aware that she needed. The abuse, the hardship, the sorry, the sacrifice–all in the hope that one child’s darkness could be pierced and good could come to her.

There is one particularly telling exchange between Annie and Helen’s older brother James. He is suggesting that Annie has already done all she can to help Helen and, perhaps, it is time for her to stop trying so hard for what seems like an impossible task.

James: Sooner or later, we all give up, don’t we?

Annie: Maybe you all do, but it’s my idea of the original sin.

James: What is?

Annie: Giving up.

Now although the theology may not be right, the passion behind the idea is powerful . . . and biblical. Notice how Paul describes his labor for others in the hope of God doing glorious and miraculous things:

We proclaim Him, admonishing every man and teaching every man with all wisdom, so that we may present every man complete in Christ. For this purpose also I labor, striving according to His power, which mightily works within me. For I want you to know how great a struggle I have on your behalf . . .  (Colossians 1:28-2:1)

Annie was passionate about Helen coming to understand the world that was dark to her. Paul was passionate about others coming to understand what life in Christ is really all about. Sacrifice, suffering, abuse, hardship–neither of them were deterred. Annie, for the sake of knowing the world around Helen. Paul, for the sake of knowing the Savior.

The picture of Annie gave some color to how I was reading Paul’s labor of love. Labor, striving, struggle . . . all for the good of others. And it causes me to ask: Why do I give up so easily in my pursuit of seeing others “complete in Christ”?

Beyond all . . . Put on Love

Jesus explained to his followers one of the things that would mark them as his: “By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have  love  for one another” (John 13:35). He described this love in sacrificial terms: “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13).

The apostle John recognized the importance of this kind of love in the lives of the followers of Jesus in writing, “We know love by this, that He laid down His life for us; and we ought to lay down  our lives for the brethren” (1 John 3:16). The apostle Paul, in describing the kind of relational life we are to live out with one another wrote of putting on love “beyond all.”

So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you. Beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity.  (Colossians 3:12-14)

I want to be one of Jesus’ followers who is marked out by this kind of sacrificial loving that willingly gives my life away for the good and benefit of others. I want to share in the kind of love Jesus has extended to us. But . . .

It will be hard to wear love if I am seeking to extract payment for wrongs suffered at the hands of another or hoping to make good on some wound done to me by another’s overlooking me. I will have to wear forgiveness in order to wear love well.

It will be hard to wear love if I am not going to support the success and growth of another, unwilling for them to taste goodness and grace even if it is at my expenses. I will have to wear forbearance in order to wear love well.

It will be hard to wear love if I need to have things happen according to my time-table and if I expect that others will keep to my schedule. I will have to wear patience in order to wear love well.

It will be hard to wear love if I resort to using force to get my way or if I cannot let the Lord bring about needed changes apart from my making things happen. I will have to wear gentleness in order to wear love well.

It will be hard to wear love if I am concerned about what you think of me and if I am on a hunt for getting others to affirm how significant and valuable I am. I will have to wear humility in order to wear love well.

It will be hard to wear love if I cannot extend myself to be involved in the meeting of basic needs and the extending civility to those I come in contact with. I will have to wear kindness in order to wear love well.

It will be hard to wear love if I am resistant to the concerns and hurts of others and am unwilling to be touched by their pain and feelings. I will have to wear compassion in order to wear love well.

I would like to wear love well. I would like to live in relationship with others the way my friend and savior and master does. So, I will put on a heart of compassion and kindness, I will put on humility and gentleness and patience, I will don forbearance and forgiveness . . . and so I will come to wear love.