Paying the Price

I enjoy reading memoirs—of the rich and famous, not so much, but of ordinary people who have achieved extraordinary things or have faced extraordinary difficulties. Recently there has been an outbreak of stories written by people smarting from injury. Among financiers, politicians, religious leaders, sports figures, and entertainers, there are a number who have confessed to wrongdoing, and have brought hardship not only to themselves but also to the more ordinary folk who trusted them. Now some of those others are writing about their experiences. Revenge? I can't say. Truth to set the record straight? Maybe. Money? Quite likely.

We love our heroes, and we choose the ones whose achievements are most closely aligned with our interests and values. If they exude charisma, so much the better. But if they fall, it is a very long way down, and we are quick to focus our attention on another hopeful. That may not be entirely fair, but that is part of the workings of leadership.

People sometimes try to negotiate the price they pay for failure. They didn’t figure on it costing them their career, their family, or their civil freedom. There are people in prison today or held captive by their own fear and regret who didn't plan on that outcome at all. "If I had known, I wouldn't have . . ." But they simply followed the alluring call of money or sex or power, and now must bear the consequences of their so-called "indiscretion."

I read a little of what one disappointed wife wrote; she does not seem bitter, just hurt. She accepts that her husband has done wrong, but she was dismayed by how quickly the flow of money and the recognition vanished. Didn't his accomplishments before failure count for anything? Weren't his relationships dependable enough to withstand the blow?

Well, perhaps not. When the charismatic person at the top takes a tumble, the whole framework is endangered. Although understanding and mercy may be extended—and in some cases, even Christian forgiveness—we are uneasy about the governor or pastor or banker who demonstrated that his/her own interests were ahead of ours. They may be ever so full of remorse now that they have been exposed, but few of their constituents or congregants or customers will want to go on as if nothing had happened. We accept that these leaders are human and make mistakes, but we do not any longer want them trying to lead us. We now know that they don't know where they're going.

King Saul in the Bible was just such a leader. He disobeyed God by carrying away some of the spoils of battle when he had been clearly instructed to destroy everything. "Yes, but I did carry out the mission . . ." "Yes, I know what God said, but the people wanted . . . " "Yes, I know I have sinned, but just excuse that because now I am ready to worship . . ." "Yes, I know I was wrong, but just honor me before the people . . ." He didn't plan to lose his kingdom and eventually his life, but that was the price he paid for failure.

I am supposing that most of us are not the extraordinary people at the top in the world of finance or politics or religion or sports and entertainment; most of us are looking to others for leadership in these areas. But the truth about the cost of failure is true for all of us. All my life I have heard, "You are the best Christian somebody knows." While we all make mistakes and have areas where we fall short, that does not justify abandoning what is right, along with those who are counting on us to demonstrate that for them. The price of integrity is small compared to the price we would pay for failure.

MaryMartha

Art from http://www.sxc.hu/

True Colors

Fall "fell" quietly during the night while I was fast asleep, I think, so this is the first full day of fall. With temperatures in the 60's, we are already experiencing some seasonal weather. Crisp brown leaves are falling onto the porch, the ivy on the trellises is turning red, and I noticed today that the elm trees have some yellowing beginning to show under the green.

You did know that the brown or red or yellow is already there, didn't you? When the leaves stop producing the chlorophyll that makes them appear green, we can see what color they really are. As the warm days get shorter and the nights get longer and cooler, the growing season winds down. Chemicals with long names continue their activity or even increase it, and thus we see the varied autumn yellows and golds, browns, red, orange and almost purple.

People too "show their true colors," we say, when they display what they are really like or what they are really thinking. That is not always the same as what they have been saying! Often at a time of particular need or even crisis, a person's true colors shine through. When we see what another is capable of in a tight situation, we are sometimes quite surprised. And sometimes we are dismayed. When it's you or me in that critical moment, we may be amazed at our own personal resources. Or disappointed.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote, "Into each life some rain must fall," meaning we will all endure some difficult, dreary times when gusts of adversity blow and our hopes fail and fall like dry brown leaves. Autumn comes to us all, not only as a season of the year, but as a season of life—not just once, but many times as one cycle of our growth winds down but before a new one begins. Remember that it is often in this "down time" that we show our true colors.

MaryMartha

Unauthorized Biographies

Many celebrities, past and present, are the subjects of "unauthorized biographies," which simply means the book was written without the permission or perhaps even the knowledge of the person whose life is depicted. Of course, if the author wants to avoid lawsuits, there are certain rules to be kept: the material cannot be libelous or an invasion of privacy, and must not infringe on a copyright or constitute a breach of contract.

So the Bible is clear full of unauthorized biographies! Did God ever ask any of the men or women whose stories we read, "Do you mind if I publish this?" He just had His inspired writers tell it like it is! People with admirable qualities are held up as examples; sometimes, like Rahab the harlot, they have only one stellar quality and are remembered for that. (See Hebrews 11) Many of the stories very honestly show both the strengths and the weaknesses—even the sin—of the individuals they present. A few of them:

* Abraham--great in faith, but impatient and not always truthful.
* David--a man with a God-heart, yet he committed adultery and murder.
* Saul--anointed Israel's first king, then fell to greed and pride.
* Peter--eager follower of Jesus, but also denied Him.
* Martha--loved and served the Lord, although hurried and worried.

Others less well-known who might be commended on some counts, but not on others:

* Demas--joined Paul on a missionary journey, then abandoned it for the world's attractions.
* The Ephesian church--patient and hard-working, but left their first love of Christ.
* Diotrephes--a church member, but inhospitable and wanted first place
* Euodia and Syntyche in the Philippian church—and could not get along with each other.

How much richer the Bible record is for including flaws and failures! What if God had approached each individual to ask, "Do I have your permission to publish this?" Great portions of the Scripture would never have been written. After all, you wouldn't want every detail of your whole life displayed for posterity, would you? (Nor would I!) Without the whole truth, we would have only the accounts of success, wealth and popularity. We would have perfect saints, exclusively, with whom to compare ourselves as we seek to serve God. How discouraging! God was so wise just to go ahead and include in the Bible story a lot of unauthorized biographies!

MaryMartha

"I Want to See"

A blind beggar was sitting beside the road that led into Jericho when Jesus came walking by. The man could hear the noise of the crowd going past. "What's happening?" he asked someone. "Jesus, the man from Nazareth, is coming this way!" they answered excitedly.

With that, the blind man began shouting, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

“Be quiet!” the people at the front yelled at him. But he only shouted louder, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Of course, Jesus heard the commotion. He stopped. "Bring that fellow over to me," He directed. As the man came near, Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?”

An audience with Jesus! The Miracle-Worker is asking him what he wants! Perhaps, "Jesus, make someone give me the coins that will buy what I need for this week."

Or, "Jesus, make the man at the marketplace be generous toward me. He could help me if only he would."

"Jesus, make someone clear this roadside where I sit. Every day I stumble."

"Jesus, make my family accept me. Make people be kind. Make people listen to me."

No, none of these. The blind man was wise enough, brave enough, to tell Jesus what he really needed. "Lord,” he said, “I want to see!” So then Jesus said, “All right, receive your sight! Your faith has healed you.” Instantly the man could see, and he followed Jesus, praising God. (from Luke 18:35-43)

Perhaps sometimes we too come to God with a litany of what others should be made to do! It's better to get to the point: "Lord, I want to see! Change me!"

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Hollow Chocolates

It can be pretty disappointing to children when they discover, after the Easter egg hunt, that the chocolate eggs they found and the huge chocolate rabbit awarded to some lucky person were not solid candy. They were hollow, made mostly of—nothing.

I read a review recently, although the book itself is not a new one, of a well-known celebrity who was called "a hollow man." He was "monstrously callous," the biographers wrote. He "double-crossed his way to the top"; his memoirs are "a pack of lies." Greedy business dealings. Rotten behavior. Neglect and coldness toward friends and family. The antithesis of his public image. The reviewer wasn't convinced, however, because some very ambiguous evidence was presented in the worst possible light, resulting in a nasty "hatchet job."

Still, it got me thinking about people who are something like the hollow chocolate candy. After you get through the sweet surface, they are mostly—nothing. Good looks and smooth talk do not a fine person make! Jesus had some harsh words for the people ("frauds," He called them) who presented an attractive outside but were very different on the inside. "You're hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You burnish the surface of your cups and bowls so they sparkle in the sun, while the insides are maggoty with your greed and gluttony. Stupid Pharisee! Scour the insides, and then the gleaming surface will mean something. You're hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You're like manicured grave plots, grass clipped and the flowers bright, but six feet down it's all rotting bones and worm-eaten flesh. People look at you and think you're saints, but beneath the skin you're total frauds." (Matthew 23: 25-28 MSG)

We can't change anyone else, but if we suspect any hypocrisy in ourselves, here is the remedy: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life." (Psalm 139:23, 24 NLT)

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture marked MSG is taken from The Message. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group. Scripture quotation marked NLT is taken from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. United States of America. All rights reserved.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Crossing the Bridge

Sometimes we come slowly to a new place of awareness; we sort of grow into a better understanding without a crisis provoking it. Sometimes we're not faced with a deliberate decision to re-do our way of thinking. But that will not always be true; at times there may be a crisis or we may face a decision.

Several years ago, as we contemplated our lives of faith, a friend and I began to pray, individually and for each other, "God, transform me into a new person by changing the way I think." (See Romans 12:1 in The New Living Translation.) What a trip this has been! I had no idea that there were huge portions of my mental processes that had never been liberated from accumulated warping. Where I am now is like being in another country: I do things differently here, I speak differently here, I view things differently here. And God isn't even finished yet!

I'll explain. I always thought I could "get by" on a certain amount of sleep, far less than doctors recommend, just because there was so much I was expected to do. I told myself it didn't matter whether or not the food I ate tasted good, just so long as there was enough of it for everyone. When I had to deal with major trauma, I said it didn't hurt too much--just what I learned to say as an eight-year-old when I stubbed my toe. I confused setting appropriate boundaries with being selfish. I thought helping others achieve their goals excluded my own, and I believed that for others to be happy and well-cared-for meant that I needed to be overburdened and poor.

Many times, I looked across the way to this "other country." From over there, it didn't appear to be all that different, but I just knew anyway that it was better. There was clarity of purpose here, and a sense of self worth, permission to dream, and freedom to take care of myself. I don't know exactly when I first crossed the bridge because it has not been a single experience, but rather something that's repeated over and over. But I suppose it must have been when I started praying about God changing the way I think. I soon began to face in rapid succession a series of situations that forced me to evaluate everything: my relationships, my work, my health, my faith.

What is the bridge? I propose that the bridge is truth--not necessarily ultimate truth like the Gospel of Jesus Christ, although there is that too--but the truth about myself, my past and present life, my future, my faults and failures as well as my giftings and successes. Reality can be a real wake-up call (or the more descriptive, "kick in the pants")! In the Scripture or other books and articles, on a regular basis, I find truth. In messages my pastor preaches or in conversation, I hear truth. When I am reflecting on daily events or experiences, I discover truth. "This is the way life is, and there is the way it can be. This is the way you are, and there is who you can become." And then I must choose: accept this "bridge" to better knowing and better being . . .

Or close my eyes and walk away.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Perception Is (Not) Everything

An almost two-year-old watched as his grandfather boarded an airplane in Kansas City and took to the air, bound for Texas. A week or so later, the child went with the family to the airport again to meet the traveler as he returned. On the way home, the boy seemed a little restless and perhaps concerned. Finally he asked, "Papa, how did they squeeze you?" He had watched his full-sized Papa walk out to the huge plane, but as it headed off into the sky, it became obvious to him that the plane and his Papa with it were growing smaller and smaller! Papa explained that distant things only appear to be small because they are far away from us. He and the other passengers sat in regular seats, and everything stayed the same size as always. The youngster was quite relieved to learn that Papa did not get squeezed at all! Because of his limited experience, his perception was narrowed to what he could see—and was therefore inaccurate.

A former employer told me, more than once, that when it comes to the people we serve, "Perception is everything," or as we often hear, the customer is always right. In the circumstances where we worked, that may have been perfectly good policy. But as you can see from the little story above, perception is not really everything. What people think is true becomes true for them, but that is not necessarily the same as the real truth. We could be as mistaken as the little boy who saw his grandpa disappear.

Do we believe everything we read in the newspaper or hear on the news, forgetting that those who write and speak are reporting their (or someone's) perception, which may or may not represent the facts accurately? Are we to accept without question every morsel of information about other people in our lives just because someone perceives it as the ways things are? And for ourselves, do we form into reality what someone else thinks we are worth? Do we accept as our destiny the sad prediction someone has made about our prospects for success? That is their perception, and may not be valid at all!

Yes, good customer service may well be driven by "Perception is everything." But caution and discrimination are needed if we really want to live in truth.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Off the Hook

Not long ago, I was trying to communicate online with a customer service rep about my account. "You'll find that information in the notes on the page," he e-mailed me.

I couldn't see any notes.

"On the left side of the page."

I still couldn't see any notes.

We finally figured out that although we were both reading my record, we were literally not on the same page. "Okay," he wrote in closing. "I'll let you off the hook . . ."

I wasn't offended, having dealt satisfactorily with this firm for a long time, but I was surprised. Was I on some kind of hook? What hook would that be, anyway? Was I supposed to be feeling embarrassed or guilty? The incident provoked me to think further about some social "hooks."

Children catch each other on hooks all the time. "I know something you don't know!" they call in a sing-song taunt. Or, accompanying an exaggerated sorrowful shaking of the head, they say, "N-n-n-n-n, you're in
tro-u-ble . . ." Or "You're just the teacher's pet."

Adults tend to be more subtle, or shall I say "less honest"? An adult may complain about some difficulty, then sigh and say, "But then I can't expect you to care about my troubles." "You got a new car? Some people are just lucky." Or even, "If you don't know what's wrong, I'm sure not going to tell you."

Do you see the hooks? Sometimes without thinking, but just as often with calculated purpose and predictable results, other people throw out bait that would hook us into feeling ignorant, threatened, unfairly favored, selfish and uncaring, guilty, or just plain stupid. If we bite the bait, we end up taking responsibility for their happiness or success.

"Off the hook" brings to my mind a fisherman releasing his catch, literally letting the fish off the hook. When I looked up the phrase in a dictionary of American slang, I found that was indeed the description: not holding another person to their error, failure, or offense just as one would free a fish from the hook on which it has been caught.

I don't think we can wait for other people to let us off the hook. We would be wiser not to take the bait in the first place. And for sure, let's not be guilty of manipulating others into tending to our own personal agenda by any less-than-honest implications.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Sometimes Anger Is Okay

It has been fun for me to share with you some of the "Things Mama Taught Me." I have to tell you, though, that she was wrong about some things. She taught me (not so much verbally as by the way she conducted herself) that being angry is not okay. Sunday School and church and a conservative Christian college soundly reaffirmed that idea. Only in relatively recent years—say, the last decade or so—have I learned that sometimes anger is not only okay, but is clearly the appropriate human response to injustice or mistreatment. It would have been better if, instead of never to be angry, my mother had taught me how to be angry.

Mama was wrong about anger because she herself had been not correctly taught. She was the product of her parents' teaching and her religious instruction just as I am. The Septuagint, Vulgate Latin, Syriac, Arabic, and Ethiopic versions render Psalm 4:4, "Be ye angry, and sin not," which apparently is how the Apostle Paul understood the verse, quoting it in his letter to the Ephesians. (4:26) Then why did Paul instruct the believers in verse 31 of the same chapter to "put away anger"? Looking at the Greek words—I don't read Greek, but I have a good concordance—I can see that the two words translated "anger" mean something different. The first, used in verse 26, is becoming provoked or exasperated. The second is much stronger: violent passion, implying punishment; vengeance; wrath. Modern versions express the dissimilarity well:

"Go ahead and be angry. You do well to be angry—but don't use your anger as fuel for revenge. And don't stay angry. . . Make a clean break with all cutting, backbiting, profane talk." (MSG)

"And don’t sin by letting anger control you . . . Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander, as well as all types of evil behavior." (NLT)

There is an anger that usually produces sin: when it is without reason, when it is quickly stirred, when it exceeds appropriate bounds, when it produces bad effects in words or actions, or when it continues unreasonably long--not to mention a "sin" I may not so quickly recognize, that is, the wrong against myself if I carry repressed fury in my heart. All kinds of physical ailments can be triggered or exacerbated when anger becomes the controlling emotion.

That last sentence holds an important key. Anger is an emotion. It is possible to feel it and then decide to let go of it. We may be justifiably angry, we may "deserve" to feel angry, and we may just want to stay angry! But at some point, for our own spiritual, emotional, and physical health, we must learn to let go. During an angry time of my own, a wise friend reminded me that "Resentment [anger] is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die." (Malachy McCourt, Irish-American author and actor) We may have every right to be angry, but that doesn't give us the right to be cruel to others or to injure ourselves.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture marked MSG is taken from The Message. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group. Scripture quotation marked NLT is taken from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. United States of America. All rights reserved.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Things Mama Taught Me: "Be Sure Your Sin Will Find You Out"

My mother said that to us many times, and although I may not have recognized it as Scripture—it is, and it's found in Numbers 32:23—I certainly believed it. I knew from experience that was how things worked! God seems to have blessed mothers with extra-sensory perception, extensive peripheral vision (maybe even eyes in the back of their heads), keen olfactory detection, and the hearing of a songbird. They just know things!

As a child, I read a story that proved to me without question that wrongdoing cannot be hidden. Now I never hear this Scripture quoted without thinking of that little story that went something like this:

Jimmy's mother was getting ready to bake; she covered a bowl of dough and put it on the back of the stove to rise while she did some other household chores. "Don't touch this bread dough," she told her young son. "Don't even lift the towel and look."

Jimmy couldn't help but be curious. Just what was so important about that bowl of stuff that he couldn't even look? But Mommy had said not to. He left the kitchen and played in the next room for awhile, but then he came back to the kitchen. "I sure would like to look," he thought. But Mommy had said not to. He went away again, but pretty soon he came back. "Just a tiny peek won't hurt," he said to himself. He lifted a corner of the checkered towel from the bowl.

Wow! The bowl was clear full now with a large, puffy white lump. Jimmy just had to stick a couple of fingers into it . . . Poof! The soft white stuff fell back down into the bowl. Jimmy waited, but it didn't come back up. He waited and waited—nothing happened.

"I've got to hide this mess," Jimmy decided, "but I can't put it in the trash 'cause Mommy will see it there. I know—I'll bury it." He got his sand shovel and went out to the flower bed in front of the house. He couldn't dig very deeply with his little shovel, so he divided the white stuff into three smaller pieces and put each part into a shallow hole behind the plants. Then he scraped dirt back over them and took the bowl back into the kitchen. He washed and dried it carefully and put it away. Now the kitchen looked just as it had when Mother left it—almost.

Later in the afternoon, Daddy came home from work, and Jimmy could hear him and Mother talking in the kitchen. Soon they called him to come there as well. Daddy was holding Jimmy's shovel. "Did you leave your shovel out by the flower bed?" he asked.

"Um, hmm, I guess so," Jimmy admitted.

"And I am wondering what happened to the bread dough," Mother said. "Do you know anything about it?"

"Uh, no," Jimmy answered, but his heart began beating very fast.

"Come with us," Mother said. "We want to show you something." Jimmy followed his parents out of the kitchen, through the hallway, and out the front door. They stood in front of the flowerbed, and there Jimmy saw three lumpy white globs of dough rising from the small holes he had dug, each crowned with a sprinkling of dirt!

Jimmy began to cry and hid his face against his mother's legs. "I'm sorry, Mommy," he sobbed, and he told her all about disobeying and poking the bread and burying it and not telling the truth. Daddy was kind, but he was very stern when he explained that wrong cannot be kept hidden, and "Be sure your sin will find you out."

If something is to be hidden, let it be God's Word! "Your word I have hidden in my heart, that I might not sin against You."

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Whole in One #7: Improving Singleness with Some Lively Virtues

Few people are born with the traits we find attractive in them. No matter what their marital state, individuals who want to be healthy and whole usually must work at developing characteristics that will lead to that goal. Here are seven “lively virtues”—lively because they are full of life and growing; virtues because they are active, powerful qualities. I will share four of them today, and three more tomorrow.

♦ Purposefulness. A single person can defeat much loneliness or boredom simply by doing what needs to be done! It’s all too easy for the person living alone to get lazy to some degree in the absence of outside pressure to tidy up the house, do the laundry, and keep the refrigerator stocked with something besides Coke and sandwich meat. It’s all too easy to slip into the habit of requiring noise: the TV, radio, CD player, or computer.

Establish purpose in your life by setting and striving toward realistic, meaningful goals—or else, as time goes by, there is nothing to show for it but advanced age and a little accumulated experience! Some people are accustomed to goal-setting as part of life at work or school, but it is a new concept to a lot of people. To them I would say: Develop a plan of action to encourage the growth of your inner self. Decide on some long-term goals too. Seriously and prayerfully, what would you like to do before your life is over? Earn $100,000 a year? Live near the ocean or the mountains? Write a book or learn to play an instrument? Complete your college education? Serve God and the church in some significant way? Determine what steps you will have to take to get you from where you are now to where you want to be, and commit yourself to taking those steps, one at a time

♦ Constancy. This firmness of mind can be described in a number of ways: faithfulness, consistency, dependability, commitment. I don’t have to tell you that this is a Scriptural quality. But we are not born with it, and I’m sorry to tell you that God doesn’t just zap us with it either! It is instilled by training or discipline. Develop firm habits of prayer, Bible-reading, meditating on the Word, attendance at public worship. Try other classic disciplines too as a means of discovering grace (not obtaining grace): Silence, simplicity, fasting, giving, study, journaling, and others.

♦ Honesty. This is openness, guilelessness, candor. The most serious byproduct of dishonestly is that the “game” becomes more real than reality, and then the player himself/herself becomes unable to trust anyone. Honesty takes courage, but to experience others’ acceptance of you as you really are is an important and enormously warming human experience—worth the risk. The acceptance has to come from within yourself first, then from those around you who deserve you at your best—open, sensitive, and genuine.

♦ Sexual Purity. Many people have come to believe that abstinence is just not possible in today’s world. It does appear that the gap between sexual activity and genuine relationship is becoming wider and wider. More of the very young are becoming sexually active, while at the same time, many grownups have intimate relationships but delay marriage in order to finish their education or become established in their careers. Is it asking too much to say, ”Wait for marriage”? God says it is not. And because He invented sex, He gets the last word. Such a stand may seem out-dated and even quaint, but here is His Word on the matter. “There's more to sex than mere skin on skin. Sex is as much spiritual mystery as physical fact. As written in Scripture, ‘The two become one.’ Since we want to become spiritually one with the Master, we must not pursue the kind of sex that avoids commitment and intimacy, leaving us more lonely than ever—the kind of sex that can never ‘become one.’ There is a sense in which sexual sins are different from all others. In sexual sin we violate the sacredness of our own bodies, these bodies that were made for God-given and God-modeled love, for ‘becoming one’ with another.” (I Corinthians 6:15-18) Although any sin is sin in the eyes of God, the effect of sexual sin on our present lives is more serious; it damages in a way that, say, theft or lying or anger, do not.

Delayed gratification is a valuable tool in dealing with all of life, and it works in sexual matters too. It produces purity and no bad memories. No relationship is completely devoid of sexual overtones, so get your sexuality in clear perspective: It is a basic ingredient of being human. Julia Duin, author of Purity Makes the Heart Grow Stronger (1988) and presently the religion editor for the Washington Times, says, “Unlike food, sex can be subjected to a long-term, even permanent fast. . . Abstinence from sex, like abstinence from sugar, results in a disciplined ability to do without it altogether. Abstinence becomes habit.”

This celibacy does not mean you are a sexless creature. You can develop your feminine or masculine energies in other ways, giving you the freedom to have deep friendships with the understanding that they won’t result in actions you will regret. It gives a deeper sense of your own value, knowing that you are worth God’s best, whether that is a mate or God alone. One further thought from Julia: “One major stand Christians can take that will make people stop and take notice of us is our refusal to indulge in casual sex that our secular generation considers to be a moral right.”

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Thanks to Julia for permission to quote from her book. Scripture quotation is taken from The Message. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Things Mama Taught Me: "Is It True . . . Kind . . . Necessary?"

There are many versions of these tests for words we speak, attributed to a variety of speakers: Ann Landers, for one, and Eleanor Roosevelt, the Rotary Club, a guru named Sai Baba, and a very old poem before any of those other possible sources existed. But this is the one I heard my mother often repeat, and she probably heard it from her mother.

First of all, is what I am about to say true? Mama was super-conscientious about telling the truth. (Maybe that’s why she never said very much!) The rationale for that is very clear. Her Bible—the King James Version, of course. Proverbs 12:22 says, “Lying lips are abomination to the LORD: but they that deal truly are his delight.” In Ephesians 4:25, she read, “Wherefore putting away lying, speak every man [every person] truth with his neighbour: for we are members one of another.” The ultimate rule was one of the Ten: “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.” (Exodus 20:16) We could take this to mean only giving false testimony in court, but Bible scholars do not see it that way. One of them writes, “[This] commandment concerns our own and our neighbour's good name. This forbids speaking falsely on any matter, lying, equivocating, and any way devising or designing to deceive our neighbour. Speaking unjustly against our neighbour, to hurt his reputation. Bearing false witness against him, or in common conversation slandering, backbiting, and tale-bearing; making what is done amiss worse than it is, and in any way endeavouring to raise our reputation upon the ruin of our neighbour's. (Matthew Henry’s Concise Commentary) The test can be interpreted then by asking, “Am I intending to deceive?

Next, is what I am about to say kind? There are many things one could say which would be absolutely true, but are best voiced with the greatest care or even left unsaid. “That dress makes you look really fat!” “You’re not studying hard enough. You can do better than a B!” “You’d better get out and wash the car; it looks dreadful!” Mama didn’t speak words like these. Again she had the Scripture as her guide. “A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.” (Proverbs 15:1) And she read in Colossians 4:6, “Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man.” A word of explanation about “salt” in that last verse: Grace is the “salt” which seasons our conversation, and keeps it from being corrupt. Though our speaking will not always be about grace, yet it must always be with grace. Even the ordinary should be spoken of in a Christian manner.

Last, is what I am about to say necessary? I would qualify the word necessary a bit to say “helpful,” “beneficial,” or the Scriptural term, “edifying.” Mama knew the world could do with less banal chatter, and so she didn’t add much of it. It isn’t wise to say meaningless things just so there’s no dead air (a radio term meaning unexpected silence, sometimes caused because the broadcaster has run out of intelligent things to say). Now here’s an interesting Scripture! “Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding.” (Proverbs 17:28) That may be where Mark Twain got this piece of advice, "It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt." Another verse in Proverbs says, “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.” (25:11) The Apostle Paul wrote, “Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.” (Ephesians 4:29) If it serves no good purpose, it’s best to leave it unsaid.

These are very stringent tests, aren’t they? Maybe our speaking is not going to meet them all the time, but certainly, these little “guards” at the gate of our lips can help us be more aware of the words we let pass through. “Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer.” (From Mama’s Bible, Psalm 19:14)

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

The Courage to Grieve

One of my blogging friends wrote something a couple of weeks ago that I have been pondering ever since. She used the words, “the courage to grieve,” and I have not been able to escape their personal implication. I have had some significant losses in my lifetime: a marriage, my parents, a brother, a grandbaby, a husband, some dreams. I think I have grieved appropriately in each case—differently, of course, but even today in ways that are still suited to the loss.

What I have not known until recent months is that there are some “deaths” I have not even recognized, let alone suitably grieved. Doing so takes courage, because I have to admit that parts of me were allowed to “die” when I was very young. That is no one’s fault in particular, certainly not my parents’ since the only way they knew to raise me was the way they had been raised. That was fairly uncomplicated: you fed and clothed the children and kept a roof over their heads, you bandaged them if they were bleeding, you saw to it that they learned to work and to read, and you took them with you to Sunday School and worship.

I am very grateful for all I was given; it is no small thing to have raised a big family during the Depression and war years. Given their economic situation, education, and religious culture, my parents certainly provided us with every advantage they knew how to supply. William Hodding Carter, Jr., a prominent journalist in the twentieth century, said, “There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots; the other, wings.” (Someone has rephrased it a bit to make it memorable as a rhyme: You can give your children but two things, one is roots and the other wings.) My parents gave us impressively strong roots. I felt safe and provided for; we were probably poor, but I didn’t know that! I readily absorbed our cultural and religious values. I learned early to take a lot of responsibility.

While they gave us sturdy roots, they didn’t know anything about giving your children “wings.” I absolutely believe that I was loved, but I never felt that I was valued. I was obedient, smart, and creative, but my mother never said, “I am proud of you.” Photos show a sweet little girl with dark eyes and long curls, but my father never told me, “Honey, you are so pretty.” They did not encourage me to find out how to do what I really love doing. They didn’t help me learn how to make good decisions—and live with the results. They did not give me the freedom to make mistakes or teach me to enjoy my successes.

You must not think this is an indictment against my parents. They did not nurture me well because they did not know how. No one had built self-confidence in them. No one had appreciated and guided them. No one had encouraged them to discover their gifts. No one had helped them find a sense of purpose and a passion for life. I have hesitated a long time to even write these things about them, but I am doing so because there may be some of my readers who will think, “Yes, I know what she’s talking about. I lost something back there too. I am grieving the loss of— “ Maybe innocence. Maybe faith or self-confidence, security or privacy. Maybe enough to eat. Maybe a dozen things. Or only one that really, really matters.

It is not dishonoring to those who brought us up to look honestly at the job they did. Evaluating it does not mean forgetting what we hold precious, but may mean taking a more clear-eyed view. We can be truly thankful (or not) for our heritage, but that does not eliminate the “holes” from those early years—and nearly everybody has them. Few people had a perfect childhood and youth, and so there are many of us who have empty places inside that never were filled up sufficiently. We may try to ignore these places, or scold ourselves for being silly enough to re-visit the distant past. “Those things don’t matter now,” we tell ourselves.

But they do matter. That is one of the reasons why some of us find ourselves so conflicted about who we are presently. We did not know who we were back then. Grieving for something that is missing—either lost or never was—is a way of acknowledging that the long-ago nurture was something valuable and precious to us. That’s why it takes courage to grieve; it says that we are quite vulnerable and not ashamed to admit it. Grieving for these losses in an appropriate way has an amazing power to heal.

So what would be appropriate grieving? Whatever is appropriate for other kinds of losses. Talk to someone. Cry if it makes you feel better. Pound on something (but not people). Keep a journal or write a letter. Read. Rest. Exercise. Sit in the sun. Treat yourself kindly. After awhile my process of grieving has yielded new understanding and new growth toward wholeness. If you need to grieve some early losses, so will yours.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

My thanks to Kimberly George who writes an inter-generational dialogue with another member of the Evangelical and Ecumenical Women’s Caucus, an international organization of women and men who believe that the Bible supports the equality of the sexes. The particular post I refer to is located at: http://eewc.com/72-27/2008/10/15/remembering-grieving-and-the-pursuit-of-wholeness/

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Never Saying "Sorry"

"Love means never having to say you're sorry," is a popular line from the 1970 romance novel/film by Erich Segal. Love Story became the top selling work of fiction for all of 1970 in the United States, and was translated into more than 20 languages. The quotation above is perhaps even more enduring than the book itself. In 2005, the American Film Institute compiled a list of the top 100 movie quotations in American cinema. The "never saying sorry” line was #13.

The quote is often parodied. For example, a character on Rugrats says, “Being bad means never having to say you’re sorry,” and John Lennon is supposed to have said, “Love means having to say you're sorry every fifteen minutes.” Segal’s original meaning of the quote in his novel, “Love is not ever having to say you’re sorry,” is all but forgotten: not being sorry that we (the young couple) had loved and “lost,” not having regrets or blame. In the film, the line is used another time as the husband is about to apologize for his anger. His wife then responds with the famous words about never saying “sorry.”

When I first heard the words used that way, I knew instinctively that they were not true. Are we really so sure of ourselves that we think we are never going to make a mistake, even in a close relationship? (Maybe especially in a close relationship) I am with Lisa of The Simpsons. When the family was watching “Love Story,” and heard Jennifer say that love means never saying “sorry,” Lisa said “No, it doesn’t!” And I’m with the bag-of-rocks music professor (Ryan O’Neal) in “What’s Up, Doc?” who responded with “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

Part of being mature is being able to recognize when offense has been taken, even if unintended, and being willing to take responsibility for it. Perhaps a simple, humble explanation will help, or perhaps not. Perhaps something can be done to make amends; perhaps not. But at the very least, one should have the respect and courtesy to say, and to mean it, “I am sorry.”

(And by the way, don’t add, “But you . . .”)

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Things Mama Taught Me: "Tell the Truth"

On Being Honest with Myself

My mother was an honest woman. When I was a youngster, she told me she’d rather die than live a lie, and she maintained that life of integrity into old age. In her declining years, she told the family members who checked in with her regularly, “When you tell me it’s time to move to Sunny Villa (not its real name), I will go without making a fuss.” So inevitably, the time came when she could no longer safely live alone, and we said, “Mom, it’s time.”

“Oh, I’m not ready to leave my home yet!” she told us.

“Mom, you promised us that when the time came, you would go without a fuss. Do you remember?”

“Yes . . . yes. Well, all right then.” And, true to her word, she went without a fuss. It was not easy for her, but there was no fuss.

So I grew up valuing honesty, telling the truth because that was the example lived before me. There is one person, however, to whom I have found it difficult to tell the truth.

Me.

Sometimes I haven’t recognized the truth, even though it was right there. Through many years of my adult life, and without realizing it, I surrounded myself with people who used me. Organizations that deceived and cheated, that took serious advantage of me financially (in the name of God). Strong leaders who used the subtle power of approval to build a personal following, who controlled my time and my job and my money and my friendships, who ordered my life with should’s and must’s while they covered up their own private wrongdoing (in the name of God). “Friends,” a lot of them, who were only takers because I was so ready to give, who laid unfair claims on me by their unending neediness (in the name of God). Because I was absolutely sincere in my intentions, no one shook me and said “Wake up, girl!” But the time came when the pressure became too great and could no longer be contained neatly. A family member intervened. “This is abuse,” she said, and my façade began to crack.

Over a number of months after that, I began to realize that not only was the present situation abusive, but also that I had permitted, again and again, unreasonable and unhealthy demands to be made on my life. I discovered that Christian women—mothers, wives, friends, employees, members of a faith community—can and must establish boundaries to protect themselves from destructive relationships.

It may be hard for some people to reconcile the teachings of Jesus about love and forgiveness and self-sacrifice with the necessity to preserve one’s health and sanity. I know how difficult that can be; I found it so difficult that I missed making the connection for most of my adult life. Our Lord never intended for loving God and others to exclude self-care. He told His followers that the two greatest commandments were to love God with all one’s heart and mind and strength, and to love one’s neighbor as oneself. It is very hard, maybe impossible, to love and care for others appropriately unless we have a proper respect for ourselves.

Jesus Himself did not minister non-stop to needy people. One time He told all His disciples to come with Him to a quiet place to take a break; they hadn’t even had time for lunch. People were constantly coming and going—people with genuine needs, people who apparently thought Jesus and the disciples should be meeting those needs. (Seeing Jesus’ crew leaving in a boat, the people hurried on foot from the surrounding villages, and beat them to their remote resting spot—but that’s another story.) And once, the Scripture tells us, Jesus was tired from a long walk and sat wearily by a well while His disciples went to a nearby city to buy groceries. So Jesus was not at all insensitive to His own needs or those of His followers. May I put it bluntly? Jesus did not teach His followers to be stupid.

The Apostle Paul echoes Jesus’ teaching. He says, “Husbands ought to love their wives as they love their own bodies. For a man who loves his wife actually shows love for himself. No one hates his own body but feeds and cares for it, just as Christ cares for the church.” (Ephesians 5:28, 29) Here Paul makes the simple assumption that people (women as well as men) need to care for themselves. It is just expected. Permitting ourselves to be manipulated by others into caring for them, not along with but instead of caring for ourselves, is not Jesus’ way.

So I am learning to tell myself the truth—the hardest person to whom I must tell the truth.. It is a journey not yet complete. I have shared this much of my story, not because I need catharsis, but because I wonder if there is a reader somewhere who will recognize herself in a part of my experience—and begin to tell herself the truth.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture quotation is taken from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. United States of America. All rights reserved.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Trash in Our Baskets

A friend sent me some kids’ cute sayings the other day. Maybe you’ve heard this one: A four-year-old was heard praying, “And forgive us our trash baskets [trespasses] as we forgive those who put trash in our baskets.”

That brought back to mind an experience of a few years ago. People in the neighborhood were busy raking their lawns, getting ready for the first greening of spring. I decided that the first thing on my agenda was gathering up some of the trash that had accumulated over the winter. So armed with a big plastic bag, I began to pick out the items that had been caught in the clumps of long grass next to the fence.

A plastic bread wrapper. Wait a minute, this is definitely not mine--I don’t buy this brand! Impatiently, I shoved it into my trash bag. A receipt from the lumber yard for eight 2 x 4’s, some nails, and a T-square. I knew nothing at all about that! Part of a paper cup from the ‘burger place, some foam packing “peanuts,” a tennis ball. None of these were mine, I was positive, but into the bag they all went.

I raked under the bushes that surround the porch. Elm and redbud leaves, of course, but catalpa and huge maple leaves? Those didn’t come from any trees of mine! I raked them up anyway, but I started to ponder having to clean up all the stuff in my yard that didn’t even belong to me. What would happen, I wondered, if I just refused to pick up what wasn’t mine?

Obviously, disowning items that became “mine” by default would not be the solution, since ignoring trash will not make it go away. No one was going to come and rake my yard just because the stuff wasn’t left there by me. If I wanted the trash removed, I would have to do it. Regardless of whose trees or habit of tossing litter actually created the mess, it was now in my yard, and therefore now my problem.

So then I began to think about how my spiritual yard gets stuff in it too. There are thoughts that threaten my peace, and snarly attitudes that demand to be given a place. There are tasks that consume more attention than they deserve, and questions that clamor to be heard. My conflicting motivations and my personal temptations all leave something behind. Trash. Clutter. Where did all this come from? I hate to admit it, but this “heart trash” is really mine!

When I go out into the work world or to the grocery store or to the shop where I get my car repaired, I may see and hear things that totally distract me. The clutter can even enter my own living room through the TV or a book or a visitor. A rigorous raking is just what my heart needs—not annually, but often! It must be bagged and hauled off, even if I was unaware that it had been accumulating. Once it comes into my life, I am responsible for its removal, regardless of its origin.

I need to pray often the childish prayer, “Forgive me my trash baskets, as I forgive those who put trash in my basket!”

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Infected Words

For fifty years, from October 2, 1950, to January 3, 2000, Charles M Schulz, instructed us in the values and vicissitudes of daily life through the Peanuts comic strip. I was a dedicated reader as I was growing up—and still love the classic reprints. Who could forget Lucy holding the football for Charlie Brown, Linus and his blanket, Charlie Brown pining for the little red-haired girl, Pigpen, Spike, Woodstock, Peppermint Patty and all the rest? One particular strip, only one, has stayed in my mind all these years.

Linus: I think you should stop saying 'nyaah nyaah nyaah' to Charlie Brown. Those 'nyaah's can hurt!
Sally: Oh, don't be ridiculous!
Linus: Well, they do hurt! Those 'nyaah's can get down in your stomach and really hurt!
Sally: You're crazy! A few 'nyaah's can't hurt anybody!
Linus: They can if they become infected!

My parents used to tell me to rebuff my older brothers' taunts with “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words/names will never hurt me.” I dutifully repeated that, but I knew it wasn’t actually true. Words do get down in your stomach or your heart and hurt; they can even get “infected.” This infection is what happens when someone is offended by another’s words and begins to harbor anger or bitterness, perhaps even refusing to ever speak with the person again. It is what happens when something said is remembered and replayed over and over again, sometimes for years, the hurt never lessening, the unfairness of it all becoming greater as time passes.

So what should we do? First, if we are the ones doing the criticizing, fault-finding, ridiculing, name-calling, minimizing, “joking” at another’s expense—the answer is simple: Stop it.

If we are the ones receiving the criticism, ridicule, painful jokes, etc., the answer is more complex. We may need to lighten up. Just because someone says something doesn’t make it true. Examine, “What is really the truth about me?” and then we need to practice telling ourselves the truth. We may need to speak honestly: “I feel hurt when you say things like that. Please stop.” We must forgive, or the harm we do to our spirits and our bodies can be greater than the original hurt.

Linus, you were absolutely right.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

(For some Peanuts nostalgia, go to this source: http://people.cs.uchicago.edu/~dinoj/peanuts.html)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com