Plain As the Nose On Your Face

Stop. Look around. Name a dozen things you can see right now — things that belong to you or that take up your time. Name them out loud.

At least one of them is probably your god.

How do I know? Let me answer by telling you about a conversation I had last week with Kevin Dial. Kevin is very involved at our church as a small group leader, a Stephen Minister, and a participant in short-term mission trips every summer. For the last several years, he has gone to Africa to train pastors and care for hurting people. Last week, we sat down for coffee and he told me about a woman he had met in Africa who is now living temporarily in the U.S. while she pursues an advanced degree. He told me that a mutual friend visited this lady's apartment and noticed that there were idols scattered all about — physical idols, I mean — literal wood and stone carved into images of worship. This lady is a follower of Jesus, but the spiritism of her homeland has mixed with her Christian faith to the extent that idols hang on the walls of her home to protect her, bless her, and guide her.

God is pretty serious about idolatry. The first commandment is, "Don't have any other gods before me." The second commandment is pretty much a reprise of the first, "Don't worship stuff you made." God says he's jealous of idols; he wants all of our worship for himself. Some of the most dramatic and terrifying punishments doled out in the history of God's people have come because of idolatry. So idols hanging on your walls is not something to mess around with. I don't know if my friend's friend said anything to this African sister about her idols, but what he did ask her revealed something about our ours — something that may be hard for us to see from the inside. In the course of the conversation, he asked,

"So do you have any interest in coming to live in America permanently?"

To which she answered,

"Oh no. I could never live here. Americans have too many idols."

Fascinating. What the American saw — literally staring at them from her living room wall — she was blind to. And what she saw — perhaps just as glaringly obvious to her — was invisible to the American. And that's a key element of idolatry. It's much easier to diagnose in someone else. We don't see our idols, because we're used to them. They are part of us. We don't see them in the same way we don't see our own noses or our own faults — not because they aren't real or close to us, but because they are too close to us, too common to stand out. The old saying about knowing something like the back of our hands is ironic, of course, because we never see the back of our hands. We look at them every day but we never see them.

So how do we avoid the trap of the old African lady? How can we see our idols? I think we need two things.

We need a mirror. Like seeing our own faces in a mirror, it's helpful to see ourselves reflected in some other vantage point. The scriptures are a mirror; we see ourselves in the pages, sometimes trailing a parade of idols.

We need a brother or sister. It was easy enough for the American to see that lady's idols. And it was easy enough for her to see his. Sometimes we need to ask our closest friends who we're really worshipping. And we need friends who love us enough to speak truth and not platitudes.

Our idols won't be made of wood or stone. They'll be more subtle than that, but no less dangerous. Matt Maher's song "Every Little Prison" describes a few.

From validating words that only seem to serve a heart that's proud;

And all my self esteem, dressed up in vanity and doubt;

From wondering if I am relevant and liked, O God,

Deliver me. 

One other thing about idols: we keep them close. The African lady lived with them. We seldom let them get too far from us. After all, if we're willing to lose them, they aren't idols. So when I asked you to look around and name the things around you — possessions, business cards with your title on them, photos of your pride and joy, your wallet, your Facebook feed — there was a good chance you named an idol.

We can't kill our idols until we identify them. When was the last time you looked for them? Who could help you see them?

Losing Momentum

Momentum is important. I took three stabs at that first sentence. It only has three words. I find it hard to just sit down and spill out thoughts. Instead, I put them in order, lining them up, categorized and organized, leading toward some conclusion or climax. I suppose in one way that's good writing, but on the other hand it often stifles expression. Rather than spilling what's inside, I'm using what's inside to construct arguments or stories.

I like cycling. Since I was seven years old and learning to jump my banana seat Huffy off the curb in my neighbor's driveway, I've always liked bikes. If there's one thing that cycling teaches you, it's the importance of momentum. In a road race, you loath to touch the brakes because you know that every bit of momentum you spill has to be regained through great effort. Have a hill to climb? Get a run at it.

I've taken that philosophy into other areas of my life as well. A good conversation has to start with warm-up. A productive work day starts by aligning my calendar, inbox, notebook and apps.

Kids kill momentum. It's hard to enjoy a quiet evening with a book when someone is constantly coming out of their room saying they need to pee, or get a drink, or pray because they're scared. If you've ever tried to work from home with kids, you know it's hard to finish a phone call or an email without being interrupted.

But I'm starting to wonder if I value momentum too highly. So much of Jesus' ministry happened in the context of interruption. Jesus didn't get past interruptions so that he could do ministry. He saw them as the arena in which ministry happens.

This Sunday, while my friend Betsy Nichols was delivering a stellar message on trusting God in the trials of life, I wrote in my notebook, "Learn to pray in the scrum of daily life." It's easier for me to pray when there's time to ramp up - like on a retreat. It's much harder for me to pray, write, or do anything more than tread water when my inbox, my calendar and my kids are all screaming at me. I wonder if I'm missing God in those moments. I know, intellectually, that he's not only in the quiet moments, but in the loud ones too. But I seldom meet him in the midst of a crowded room or a crowded schedule. I wonder if it wouldn't do me good to practice coming out of the blocks, improving my 0-to-60 time, finding the sacred glimmer in the muddy rush of work and life.

I tried to write this post without momentum. I didn't outline it or organize my thoughts beforehand. Maybe I can do the same with prayer.

Book Review: Enemies Of the Heart by Andy Stanley

Jeremiah 17:9 asks, "The heart it deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?"

Answer: Andy Stanley.

The North Point pastor has produced another useful manuscript and shown that he understands the workings of the human heart as well as he understands the book publishing process. He navigates both with aplomb.

I read his latest work, Enemies of the Heart, the week after I happened to hear him speak at two conferences only days apart. Considering his guest speaking schedule, his Sunday teaching at North Point, his podcast, and his books, he's one of the most prolific evangelical teachers on the market. But quantity doesn't necessarily negate quality. At both of the conferences mentioned above, his was the talk that filled the most pages of my notebook.

I've never found Stanley's content especially moving. His latest book is not beautiful or terribly insightful. But wisdom isn't always flashy. Stanley's teaching on the heart is simple, accessible, memorable and just plain good advice. So though Enemies of the Heart won't make you weep or laugh, it might make you better.

Stanley writes in the style he speaks; you can almost hear his voice coming through the page. Enemies of the Heart is conversational and casual. The book is divided into four parts and 20 chapters. The paperback is 206 pages long and an easy read.

Of the four parts, only the middle two really carry the message of the book. Part One is a 45-page introduction wherein Stanley defines the heart: "that mysterious, wonderful, confusing part of you that enables you to love, laugh, fear, and experience life", and lays out the book's purpose: "I'm going to do my best to expose your heart to the penetrating light of God's truth. Like the dye used in an arteriogram, truth can help us pinpoint the blockage in our spiritual conditions."

Stanley uses the metaphor of physical hearts throughout the book. He identifies four emotions that create "blockage" in the arteries of our spiritual hearts: guilt, anger, greed and jealousy. He says that these are the most common and most harmful forms of spiritual heart decease because they create a debtor-to-creditor dynamic in our relationships.

Guilt says, "I owe you."
Anger says, "You owe me."
Greed says, "I owe me."
Jealousy says, "God owes me."

Stanley does give consideration to lust as a fifth source of heart disease, but asserts that it doesn't create the same debtor-to-creditor relationship. In every case, though, Stanley says there are only two paths to deal with the debt: either someone has to pay up (which in relational debts such as these is often impossible) or someone has to cancel the debt.

Stanley spends four chapters describing the four types of relational debt. Then he spends two chapters each on how to deal with them. That makes the book drag a bit. Again, he writes the way he speaks and some of the jokes and transitions that are easy to sit through when listening to him, is harder to fight through when they appear as "filler" in a book that could have been 150 pages.

Each of these "heart issues" is an appetite, which Stanley defines as a craving that can never be fully and finally satisfied. But Stanley says that each of these heart conditions can be conquered by cultivating a new habit. "It takes a habit to break a habit," he writes, and identifies the one habit to negate each vice. "It's much easier to behave your way into a new way of thinking than to think your way into a new way of behaving."

Here's a summary of his best points from each of the four topics.

Guilt

• "Guilt chips away my self-respect."
• Guilt can be overcome by cultivating a habit of confession. 
• The point of confession is not just to relieve our conscience; it's to lead us toward change. That's why it's important to confess to a person, not just to God. When we go public, especially to the person we've wronged, we're more motivated to change. 
• "I've never heard of a man or woman breaking a debilitating habit without public confession. Ask the folks at Alcoholics Anonymous."
• "The consequences of confession are far less severe than the consequences of concealment."

Anger

• Anger is the result of not getting what we want. 
• It's easy to believe that the only remedy for anger is payback, but that's fool's gold: it can't be done. 
• "Like all four of the internal enemies we'll be looking at in this book, anger gains its strength from secrecy. Exposing it is painful and powerful at the same time."
• Feelings of anger can be justifiable but still poisonous. 
• Anger can be your crutch for behaving badly; if you're angry, remember that your pain may explain your behavior, but it doesn't excuse it.
• Of the four issues, this one can be the most devastating.
• Anger can be diffused by cultivating a habit of forgiveness. 
• "To refuse to forgive is to choose to self-destruct."
• "You don't forgive because the other person deserves it; you forgive because you've been forgiven."
• Forgiveness is best accomplished by following four steps: 1) identify who you're angry with, 2) determine what they owe you, 3) cancel the debt, 4) dismiss the case.

Greed

• Greed is very hard to identify: it hides behind virtues like prudence, forethought and responsibility. It is the most subtle of all four conditions. 
• Greed is fueled by fear: by questions of "what if?" 
• "This is Jesus' definition of a greedy person: A person who stores up things for himself but isn't rich toward God. Being 'rich toward God' is Jesus-talk for being generous toward those in need. A greedy person is the man or woman who saves carefully but gives sparingly." 
• "If you've allowed your lifestyle to keep lockstep with or surpass your income, you'll find it next to impossible to keep greed from taking root in your heart."
• "If you're not willing to give to the point that it impacts your lifestyle, then according to Jesus, you're greedy."
• Greed is a refusal to act.
• Become both a percentage giver and a spontaneous giver.

Jealousy

• The source of every conflict you'll ever experience is the pattern of wanting something and not getting it.
• Blame is the admission that I can't be happy without your cooperation. To blame is to acknowledge dependence. 
• "God wants you to know him as the source of all good things. And when he says no, he wants you to trust him."
• Jealousy can be overcome by cultivating a habit of celebration. 

Stanley includes an appeal to parents to model these four healthy habits for their children.

Enemies of the Heart is a worthwhile read, though not a stirring one. In this book, Andy Stanley shows himself again to be a steady source of wise counsel. He's not a storyteller, but a writer of proverbs; like Solomon, but with more speaking engagements and fewer wives.