Win with grace

Another one of Ortberg's criteria for being the kind of player that other people want to sit next to -- also known as living with grace -- is learning to win with grace.

He tells a story of Abraham Lincoln. After Lincoln one the presidential election, he placed his political rivals on his cabinet -- an unheard of move today. One of those men, Edwin Staton, had been the Attorney General. Lincoln, who had many reasons to particularly dislike the man, appointed him as Secretary of War. Lincoln set aside his pride and his hurt feelings, and not only appointed the best man for the job, but learned to depend on him. When Lincoln died, Stanton was crushed.

Lincoln won, but did it with grace.

Do we do that today? Are we more prone to feel self satisfied, proud or self righteous when we win? Or do we win with grace? Do we place loving the person in front of us over the everything else?

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,

To win gracefully means to love our "enemy."

Image: From Jesusquest 08

Why forgive?

I'm reading, and about to finish, John Ortberg's book, When the Game is Over, It All Goes Back in the Box. Chapter 19 is called, "Be the Kind of Player People Want to Sit Next To." He explains that monopoly experts say that the number one key to winning the game is to be that kind of player -- the one that other people want to sit next to. Even the smartest players will lose if they do not develop a relationship with those with whom they are playing.

In life, this is called living a life of grace. Ortberg breaks it into three components. Learn to lose with grace, to win with grace and to forgive with grace. I think each of those might make a post, but I'm thinking today about forgiving with grace.

Why do we forgive?

He says that when we stand at the foot of the cross, we become aware of how much we ourselves are in need of forgiveness. "At the cross, I remember that for me to expect to receive ultimate forgiveness purchased at the ultimate price from heaven yet withhold it from someone who has hurt me, is the ultimate contradiction." I agree with that, and certainly a realization of my own sins will motivate me to forgive the sins of others.

I started thinking about that, though. I'm not sure that it would speak to someone against whom a huge sin has been committed. Now, before you start, I know that sin is sin, and there are no gradations. Certainly, though, there are differences in the earthly consequences of sin. My harsh words to a friend are sin. The murder of a child is sin. Comparing their earthly consequences, though, shows that the pain of one is so much more than the pain of the other.

If I commit the first sin and am the victim of the second sin, when I stand at the cross, am I going to be motivated to forgiveness?

Why do we forgive?

I was reading an article in Christianity Today written by Philip Yancey called "Ongoing Incarnation: Would Christmas have come even if we had not sinned?" He says, "Those who root their identity in Christ have a holy mission to reclaim territory that has been spoiled. The Christian ministers to the poor and suffering not out of humanistic motives, but because they too reflect the image of God; insist of justice because God insists on it; ..."

Why do we forgive? Because God insists on it. It is a response to the idea that we are recreated in Christ -- that we reflect Christ to the world -- to the idea that we are dead to sin and alive in Christ. We do his will -- forgiveness -- because he insists on it.

When I teach classes, and we talk about grace and forgiveness, two of the most difficult concepts for people to believe is that God forgives even the most horrible, terrible sin -- and in fact has already done so, and that we are capable of doing the same. He has forgiven the murderer, and we are able to do it, too, because Christ is incarnated -- because he has given us his spirit.

Why do we forgive? It's not because we realize how terrible we are. It's because we realize how glorious God is, and that through Christ and his spirit, we have been made sinless and blameless, and not only that, but we are given the power to forgive. God insists on it.

Teach us, Lord, full obedience,
Holy reverence, true humility;
Test our thoughts and our attitudes
In the radiance of Your purity.

Note: Hymn lyrics from "Speak, O Lord."

Living in the Box

I found this Meme on Cheesehead in Paradise.

Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more. (No cheating!): That would be John Ortberg's When The Game is Over, It all Goes back in the Box. I'm sitting here on the couch, with tons of books sitting around, but that one was in my computer bag, leaning against the couch.

Find Page 123 and find the first 5 sentences. Page 123 is actually the first page of a chapter. The first 5 sentences are the introductory paragraph of the chapter called "Fill Each Square with What Matters Most."

Post the next 3 sentences. The next three sentences are from a quote by Lewis Smedes:

I bought a brand new date-book yesterday, the kind I use every year -- spiral-bound, black imitation leather covers wrapped around pages and pages of blank boxes. Every square has a number to tell me which day of the month I'm in at the moment. Every square is a frame for one episode of my life.

I can't let the story end there, because it is a long quote, and a good one. Smedes goes on to say that each square will eventually be filled with his activities for the day -- classes, lunches, meetings. Many things won't make it onto the calendar, but will be squeezed into the day -- cups of coffee, lovemaking, prayers, and hopefully, good deeds. He lives one square at a time, and the lines of the squares are the walls of time that organize his life. Each box has an invisible door that links it to the next box. The door opens, and he is pulled through to the next box.

One day he will walk into a square with no door to the next square. "One of the squares will be terminal. I do not know which square it will be."

Control Issues

Did you read the comment on yesterday's post? Thanks to bob for leaving it (No, I don't think it's Rob/Bob; it's bob.). He says that while he believes that someone should have stood up to protect the youth and their participation as communion servers, he does wonder if a pastor would stand up to an older person in the church who was probably a bigger doner.

I've said the same thing myself -- not about this issue, but about other issues. Thinking about this today, and expanding it out somewhat, I've put together a list of stewardship thoughts. JtM, in addition to being a teacher at our church, a guest blogger and a great friend, is also a stewardship guru, and I've learned a few things from him. We'll give him credit for the good thoughts on this list, and I'll take the blame for the mistakes:

• Don't assume that just because you THINK someone is a big church doner that he or she is. Someone who doesn't give of time and talents may not be giving the gift of funding, either. Unless we KNOW (and I hope none of us do know) who is giving what, then assumptions can be incorrect.
• Don't reduce stewardship to just money. When we do that, we reduce people to just their money. I've thought about this, and I think that we do a disservice to each other when we reduce stewardship to money. We think of people as only what they will donate, and we ignore our own responsiblity in nurturing everyone in faith -- especially that person we think of only for his/her money.
• Donation amounts cannot (although, yes, bob is right -- sometimes they do) be the controlling factor in our churches. God must lead what we do, or we might as well close the doors.

I'm reading the book "When The Game is Over, It all Goes Back in the Box" by John Ortberg. One of the things he advises is that we need to resign as Master of the Board. We think we are in control -- of our lives, of what happens around us. We control small things, but we can't change the length of our lives, the decisions our children make, the health of our family -- we can't even control whether it is going to rain or not. When we use things like money to try to manipulate people, we are pretending that we are in control when it is all an illusion. As a church, and as church leaders, we need to remember who is really in control.

Of course, I say that, but I've never been faced with the situation. I hope I would heed my own advice.

To Count or Not

I mentioned before that I am reading the Ortberg book "When the Game is Over, it all Goes Back in the Box." The chapter I am reading now talks about living richly toward God -- giving of ourselves to God. He also talks about how we keep score in life, just as we do in the games that we play.

He mentioned that people keep score in golf, and it reminded me of a statement that a friend made once -- that when he plays poorly at golf, his response is to be disappointed in himself. On the other hand, Steve and I learned a wondeful lesson from this friend and his wife (our other friend). When they play miniature golf, they don't keep score. We tried that this summer, and it was wonderful. Steve (who is our score-keeper) is releaved of that duty, the boys aren't depressed when they don't do well, and everyone's attitude is much more pleasant.

I wondered if this friend ever plays golf without keeping score. Radical idea, isn't it?

JtM and I are once again co-treaching a class, this time on Yancey's Prayer book.

Sitting at lunch, thinking about this, my mind wandered to our class. Usually, I am the one who keeps attendance (or Steve does), and I count the number of people who attended each Wednesday, who had been there this week but not last. I've been worried about this class. Registration has been smaller than for previous classes.

I wondered what would happen if I did not take attendance. I realized that I use counts to judge the vitality of the program. I decided today, in Wendy's, that I would not record attendance for the class. This is hard for me, but I think I've been relying on the count too much, so no counting. Just gratitude for who joins us on this journey.

I think this might be one way to live richly toward God -- to give him my trust.