decisions

Maybe The AI Is Reading My Mind

The app that hosts our website is called Jetpack, and every day, it gives a writing prompt. Apparently, in the virtual world, more (posting, words, videos, content, clicks, advertisements, etc) is always preferable. Sometimes, that’s true, but as I post once/week, I am probably not their ideal client. Today’s prompt is, “Do you need time?”

I only discovered this prompt when I opened my computer to write, and it’s often surprising how well these prompts connect to my intention. (Now that I think about it, I wonder if the prompt is universal, the same for every Jetpack creator, or if it’s uniquely generated for each user. Maybe its not a beautiful coincidence at all. Maybe it’s the AI reading my mind, or at least using my previous data in an algorithm to know what I’m thinking even before I do… Scary, but let’s move on anyway, we can talk about The Machines taking over another time.)

I meant to write about a mass email I got this week. It addressed the question, “Does AI make us dumber?” (Maybe we’re talking about The Machines now, after all.) And Mark Manson’s conclusion was, “What’s happening is the same thing that happens with every new revolutionary piece of technology – we stop exercising some mental muscles because the tool makes that particular task easier (citing miracles like GPS, calculators, and the internet)…The question isn’t: “Will AI ruin our brains?” The real question is: “What thinking do we still need to protect – and what are we better off outsourcing?””

Now, this is a topic we discuss a lot. What do we keep, what do we leave behind, and what is the cost of leaving those things behind? Where are we spending our time, and is that where we want to be spending our time? Are those answers in line with our values? Do we really need more time, or have we just mindlessly allowed the time we have to be sucked by the leeches we ignored? What thinking do we need to protect?

Last night, we had a dual in-person/virtual teaching at the church and online, and it reminded me of the Manson email. Before COVID, we (as a church and as a culture) had very few options for online connection, now we do, and what happened was that, before we knew it, we had allowed the technology to direct our lives, the tail began to wag the dog, and we replaced a life lived IRL with screens and message boards.

Last night was very cool, as a supplement. We integrate lots of ways to stay in touch, but the actual in-person community needs to be protected, it simply cannot be left behind. Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should. Jeff Goldblum’s character in Jurassic Park says, “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.”

My brother in law has been using an AI tool to turn his poetry into songs that sound like they could be on the radio today. It’s amazing. He asks it to, and it does. And it’s also not difficult to make the leap to what this could mean to the music industry, to the work of real humans playing real instruments. The truth of that creative expression desperately needs to be protected.

Facebook is such a wonderful space to follow people, groups and companies that are interesting to us AND it is a breeding ground for abysmally inhuman behavior. We have to constantly decide what kind of Facebook we want, what needs to be protected, and what needs to be relegated to the trash heap of history, tradition and/or pseudo-progress. Yes, we can, but now what? Will we?

My point is, maybe we will, maybe we should, but we have to be making those decisions. In every area of our lives.

I was watching a People’s Court case while I ate my breakfast today, and a woman was asked why she wasn’t paying her rent. I fully expected a shoulder shrug, and mumbled, “I don’t know,” but instead, she answered, “I had other bills I decided to pay first.” Maybe it was a bad decision, but it was totally hers. Her life wasn’t happening to her, she was living her life (at least this part of it) on purpose. And that’s really the opportunity for us, isn’t it? We’ve been given these lives by our Creator, now what? Will we simply squander our days, jobs, relationships, sleepwalking through the moments, dreaming of “more time,” or finally live the time we already have with purpose and intention? The choice is ours.

The Questions

It’s the questions, isn’t it? We study the Scriptures, words and contexts, digging deeper and deeper into the meanings and interpreting it however we interpret it. Then, hopefully, we can integrate the lessons and/or practices into our lives, and this integration invites us into new versions of ourselves. This is the beauty, opportunity, and responsibility of a sermon.

This week, we studied the example in Ecclesiastes of a person who has all the money and material wealth and can’t enjoy it. Admittedly, this is not a difficult jump to make from ancient wisdom literature to 2025 America, so the job of the teacher is fairly simple. (I find this to be the case with most of the Bible – we have not progressed or evolved nearly as far as we like to believe. The Israelites continued to relive the same loops through the Old Testament, and so do we.)

I think about this a lot. But on Monday mornings, I sit with my notebook, thinking about, in this case, what are my values, and are my answers consistent with my life? And then, where have I chosen a different #1, a different, inferior WHY to inform and animate my life? These are the nagging thorns in my mind that keep me up at night.

We can read verses and passages, close our Bibles, and remain unaffected. We can even commit these same verses to memory, without ever letting them make the giant leap from our heads to our hearts. But I find it’s these questions that create the bridges. They’re like keys that unlock closed doors. When was the last time we meditated on words written thousands of years ago? I would suggest (maybe I would hope) very recently. If we have ever been conflicted about the long hours at work that keep us from home, from our families, and have calculated the cost of our careers and hobbies, that is simply today’s form of the Jewish Talmud.

The Talmud (in probably offensively simple terms) is an extra-Biblical text where rabbis wrote about and commented on the Scriptures. Essentially, it was where they worked out what this meant for their lives, how it would/could be expressed in real life. We do this, too, every day. We just don’t have a cool name for our seeking.

Solomon details the meaninglessness of the idolatry of our stuff. And tv shows and blog posts ask us to stop to look at the hold our own things have on us. Whether we realize it or not, we’re diving into a practice that has existed as long as we have. What do we believe? Do we, really? And if that’s true, if we do actually believe that, what does that mean for our lives? It’s easy to see how vital this testament of faith & self-discovery can change every little part of our lives. And it should. Maybe the passive, detached distance we too often choose is the exception. And maybe the disruption we all feel is that this exception, being on the outside, just dipping our toes in, is no longer good enough.

Although

The note in my personal Bible, for the book of 2nd Chronicles, chapter 18, verse 1, reads, “Although Jehoshaphat was deeply committed to God, he arranged for his son to marry Athaliah, the daughter of wicked Ahab.” And as far as interesting, loaded sentences go, that’s pretty terrific.

The 2 kings mentioned were the leaders of the north and south kingdoms of, what was and would be, the nation of Israel. Jehoshaphat was a good, moral king, Ahab was not. In fact, Ahab was probably the worst of them all. But sometimes political interests are more important than religious, spiritual ones. (Obviously, we wouldn’t know anything about that, but just try to use your wildest imagination to put yourself in this ancient time.) Jehoshaphat followed the God of his ancestors, but even so, he decided this alliance was important/valuable/necessary/whatever word describes why & how we would ever rationalize shelving our principles for political viability and gain. I’ll choose “necessary,” because that is what I often hear as explanation for the ways we decide the words of Jesus just aren’t practical, here, now. So, this alliance was necessary to rebuild a powerful, re-connected Israel.

Of course, it didn’t go that way, wasn’t necessary at all.

I am not a king or a politician, so this doesn’t relate on a strictly apples to apples basis, but I do know very well about rationalization. And I do know the truth of the “although.”

Although I love Jesus, I can be really judgy, sometimes. Although I am absolutely clear on His commands to NOT judge, I can still choose to do it. Although I am deeply committed to my fitness and physical health, I often eat like a 6-year old. (I am the walking, talking, weightlifting illustration of the harsh truth, “you can’t out train a bad diet.” I wish you could. I would have the best abs.) I see other drivers on the road who have Jesus fish on their cars; although they love Jesus, so much that they’d advertise it on their bumpers, they have cut others off and raged behind the wheel. Although some pastors love Jesus and have given their careers to spreading the Gospel, they can deliver some of the most hurtful speech about others who are under His grace, just as they are. Although people love their spouses, they… You get the idea. How many ways do we live out the “althoughs?”

This is one of the very cool things about the Bible. We can’t relate at all to choosing politics over faith, but we can easily translate that into lots of other areas of our lives. It is timely – real people (Jehoshaphat, Athaliah), real times (hundreds of years B.C.), real places (Israel), and real tensions (arranged marriage between heirs, political maneuvering) – these things are specific to a time. We live in 2025 in a small town in Pennsylvania, our kids choose their own partners, we never get politics mixed up, never elevate it to an idol that would direct our steps with our friends and families.

But it is also timeless – the “althoughs” and the constant struggle in our hearts, decisions, and relationships between God and all of the other, lesser things that would take His place.

Who would guess that something Jehoshaphat did or said thousands of years ago, would have the ability to ask such vital questions of us? Isn’t it fascinating that Ahab and Athaliah have meaning in our careers and marriages, that 2 wicked characters would invite us into a deep dive into our own days and moments?

I have a book called God Is In This Place, and it dissects Genesis 28:16 (maybe I mentioned that verse before;), using 9 chapters to interpret it in 9 very different ways. It has crossed my mind to take a passage or verse, probably a parable of Jesus, and teach it several weeks in a row. The Bible is often compared to a diamond, with facets that change the look of the stone with each small turn.

There are so many perspectives of the life & rule of Jehoshaphat, but today, we’ll just be knocked out by the warning of his own “although,” and hopefully not make it our own.

No Why

Today’s site prompt is “what bothers you and why?” That’s pretty prescient of the AI prompt generator, because I opened my iPad to write about a thing that does, indeed, bother me.

First, you should know that lots of things bother me. I am bothered when people hog equipment at the gym, then don’t spray & wipe that equipment off afterwards, rudely leaving their disgusting germs all over for the rest of our immune systems to find off. It’s a wonder that we all don’t have a perpetual case of pinkeye. But what REALLY bothers me is when (usually the same) people leave their weights on the bars. Yes, that actually happens, can you believe it?!!? We live in a society, a fact that has managed to go unnoticed by these monsters. I’m bothered by a lack of spacial awareness in public, poor sports officiating, and the New York Giants, among many others.

The last paragraph was all mostly a joke. These things do bother me – probably a better word is annoy – but it’s a superficial wound, a paper cut that is forgotten immediately after the initial cut. I don’t really care too much, I’ve never had a day ruined by any of these trivialities. The problem is that we just don’t have enough words, sometimes. The “bother” of the least paragraph is not the “bother” of the next one.

In Acts 12, king Herod Agrippa “began to persecute” some believers of Jesus. The apostle James was “killed with a sword.” Then, when he “saw how much this pleased the Jewish leaders,” he captured and imprisoned Peter to do the same to him, in a very public fashion. That night, “an angel of the Lord” appeared and sprung him from his cell. It’s a cool story, with a cool scene of Peter showing up at the place where all of his buddies were praying for him, as they were praying for him. The prayer was answered immediately, spectacularly.

Hallelujah! …except for one thing. Why was Peter rescued and not James? We can talk and put forth all sorts of hypotheses, but the truth is that we have absolutely no idea. There is no why.

Why do terrible things happen to one and not another? Why is this happening to me? Why is this not happening to him/her? Maybe you remember the singer-songwriter we hosted, Olivia Farabaugh, who was miraculously healed from a chronic disease. I’m so thankful she was, but why do others still suffer with that same chronic disease? They may believe in healing and have faith that can move mountains, too. James believed.

John the Baptizer was sitting in jail, about to be murdered, and sent word to Jesus, asking if He was the One for whom they were waiting. He answers, yes, and blessed are those who don’t fall away because of Him. Essentially, John was asking IF He was the Messiah, and IF He was going to rescue him. John was His cousin, also His friend and witness. He’d been faithful his whole life and, with everything he thought & did, pointed to Jesus and His Kingdom. Yes, Jesus was the Messiah, and No, He would not be breaking him out of prison. Why? Only He knows?

We all have some deeply loved friends who are carrying more than anyone can handle, crying enough tears to drown the world. Why them? Why doesn’t God step in and help? Why does He do it for some and not others? Why didn’t He save James from that sword? I wonder how many burned up in the same furnace where Shadrach, Meshach, & Abednego were delivered. Why? Why is this happening to me, him, her, them?

There is no why. And that bothers me. My pride and driving need for control makes me want those answers. I want to understand. I want it to make sense to me. I want there to be a why, and I want to know what it is.

The other side of my own idolatrous coin is faith. There is a why, we just might not get it. We have to faith anyway, to trust anyway. We can certainly ask, He’s plenty big enough for our questions. But there always comes that point where, even if we don’t get the answers we want, or like, or that make sense, or any answers at all, we are faced with a decision; will we still trust that He is there, that He is good, and that we are still loved beyond reason or limit. What do we do then?

Maybe we’re James and get the bad thing, or maybe we’re Peter and get the good. Maybe they’re both blessings, and maybe it just depends on your perspective. Maybe we don’t ever know why. Maybe it’ll always bother us like crazy, but maybe we just continue to follow Him anyway.

Trouble

Listen to this verse (28) in 1 Kings 12: So on the advice of his counselors, the king made 2 gold calves. He said to the people, “It is too much trouble for you to worship in Jerusalem. O Israel, these are the gods who brought you out of Egypt!”

The king, in this passage is Jeroboam. Israel had split into 2 (north and south), after Solomon’s death, due to Solomon’s unfaithfulness and increasing transgressions. Jeroboam and 10 of the tribes, became the northern kingdom, while Rehoboam, Solomon’s son, formed the southern kingdom with the 2 remaining tribes. (The fact that Rehoboam – and Solomon’s line – got anything is due only to the mercy of God and His loyalty and love for David.)

Jeroboam’s fear was that his people would go south, to Jerusalem, for worship, and stay there, I guess. Or leave him and pledge themselves to Rehoboam? It’s just “too much trouble” to worship God, in His way, the way He’s prescribed. This guy, right? You can see the writing on the wall a million miles away. He’s choosing comfort and ease over anything & everything else. Can you believe that???

The thing that is so maddening about these Israelites is their propensity to live such destructive loops. They cry out, lean into God, God rescues, they turn away from Him, make a mess because of this idolatry, then cry out, move towards God, God rescues, they turn away from him, make a mess because of this idolatry, cry out, lean towards, God rescues, turn away, make a mess, and on and on and on. We read this and tear our hair out, exasperated, screaming, “Again!??! How many times do they have to do this??!!??” We’re right to do this, it is frustrating. And it’s confusing – why do they keep doing it? Why don’t the ever remember? Why do they keep getting bitten by the same animal, banging their heads against the same wall?

On a completely unrelated note, what I am learning about me is that I can sometimes have an amazing lack of self-awareness. When Nathan confronted David about his Bathsheba situation, he painted a picture of a “man” that sent David into a rage. He ranted at the “man’s” transgression, only to be told, “You ARE that man!!” I am just like David, sometimes.

Anyway, back to Jeroboam and the 2 calves…

Can you believe that guy, choosing convenience and power, moving in fear and self-protection instead of faith, trust, and obedience??? He’s a perfect illustration of the idolatry of these Israelites, who continue to be seduced by their own pride and self-reliance, or just to simply follow easy, wide paths in service of their own selfish pleasure.

It’s too much trouble to get out of bed to travel all that way to to the Temple. It’s too much trouble to follow God, to put Him before us, to put others before us. It’s too much trouble to confront our bad decisions, reflect, and learn. Faithfulness is too much trouble. It’s too much trouble to delay gratification. It’s way too much trouble to take our hands off the wheel and give up our imaginary sense of control. It’s just too much trouble.

I’m happy we’re not like them.

Resurrection

The homework this week was, essentially, to pay attention. Pay attention to our lives, the small, subtle, seemingly insignificant prompts and choices that bombard us on a moment-by-moment basis. These prompts usually skate by, unnoticed, as do the choices, which we will often ignore. Then, we wake up and it’s days, months, years later and we ask, “How did I get here?” as if we’ve been blown by the wind to spaces we never meant to go.

It’s sometimes hard to see any ability to steer our own ships. We can feel out of control, swept along in the endless ticking of the clock, as the world batters us with circumstance and situations we didn’t ask for and don’t particularly like. We’re in a consistent state of fear – our internal fight-or-flight mechanism is always triggered, reacting, never ever acting out of intention. We put out the fires that spontaneously erupt.

The homework is an invitation to investigate if all of those fires are truly ‘spontaneous.’ If we really aren’t asking for the circumstances and situations, and if we don’t actually like them. Are we blown about by the wind, or are we simply acquiescing to the wind, without anchors or roots? Have we forgotten to wake up? Forgotten to lean in and engage?

Resurrection means coming back to life after death, and now is a great time to talk about what that means. Jesus Christ was killed, crucified, and, 3 days later, was resurrected. In His sacrifice and empty tomb, we are given new life. Through Him, and Him alone, we are reborn.

Now, what does that mean in our lives? Can the lives we’ve allowed to exist on life support, each day the same monotonous loop, live again? Can our relationships, our marriages, friendships, families, which have grown stagnant and distant, rise from the grave? Are we really this powerless, or is it the delusion that accompanies a death of hope? Are we made to be this afraid, constantly stressed, anxious, overwhelmed? What if the world (nations, communities, etc) needs us to show up, fully present, and we can’t, because we’re numb, checked out, fully sedated by comfort, convenience, inside bubbles of self-interest?

Everything. YES. YES. NO. NO. Then the world is missing something/someone absolutely vital and will not be whole, until we do.

The homework is my way of asking us to look around. But it’s not mine, at all. I believe the question is built into every book, chapter, verse, and word of the Bible, asking us to acknowledge our design to live, and live again. To love again. To refuse to accept death as “just what it is.” To hold a revolution against the world that continues to lie, telling us that if the tomb was empty, it has nothing to do with us, our lives, our relationships, our hearts, today. The world that lies, telling us that there are no prompts or choices, and that, instead, we are the insignificant.

The homework in the Scriptures is to open our eyes, wake up, and see them, and us, for what they are, and to see God for who He is. The homework is to see the question crackling all around us. Who is He? Who are we? And what will we do now? The homework, I suppose, is to say YES, and see that we can be resurrected, too.

Super Soldier Serum

The site prompt is, “What would you do if you won the lottery?” And that makes me think of a line from the Marvel TV show The Falcon & The Winter Soldier. There’s a guy who is supposed to be the new Captain America, and he’s debating about whether or not he should take a super soldier serum (which sounds silly to write here, but it is a superhero show), and his buddy, Lamar, tells him, “power just makes you more of what you are.” That applies to money, too, obviously. I don’t necessarily ascribe to the theory that “absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

The full quote (from Lord Acton, the 13th Marquess of Groppoli – full disclosure, I don’t have any idea what a Marquess is or what/where/who Groppoli is, but I love that I could use it in real life) is, “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men, even when they exercise influence and not authority; still more when you superadd the tendency of the certainty of corruption by authority.” Power does tend to corrupt, but I can’t go with ‘absolute/always’ of the rest. But again, speaking of words, I’m using “superadd” immediately and often.

And this makes me think of Sunday morning, and our discussion on character and judgment. We could talk forever about these 2 topics, right?

Character is the x-factor that disproves the 13th Marquess of Groppoli, and reinforces Lamar’s comments. If a man has the kind of character traits Paul is listing to Titus, maybe that’s exactly the kind of person who should have power, who would use it in service, to help, to build, to defend, to give, to love. Maybe that’s exactly the kind of person who should take a super soldier serum.

But what if we don’t have that kind of character? You know I wanted to add, “…kind of character now, today?” That’s why judgment is so linked in my mind to character. Christ makes us new, so this very moment is the perfect opportunity to begin to superadd this kind of integrity.

Judgment is making decisions about someone’s essence. For instance, to use our terms from the message, when that boy/girl that behaves violently, full of bitterness, with anger, rage and hatred, he/she IS, in the deepest parts of themselves, that kind of person, and worse, will always be that kind of person. We lock them in a box they can never escape. When Jesus says, “Do not judge,” I think He means to open that box. Whether they climb out of the box built from their own actions, or not, is up to them and Jesus Christ, certainly not me. I can hope & pray they do. And maybe that box involves the consequences of those actions or our boundaries. But we no longer hold the key to another’s cell.

And then Jesus brilliantly turns our spotlight into a mirror. “Take the plank out of your own eye.” So, we no longer have the key to another’s cell, but we do have the key to our own. We can leave. We can start anew, and write a beautiful new story. We can allow and encourage others to do the same. We can become the people who can take the super soldier serum or win the lottery and use it to bless everyone, everywhere.

Go First

Last Sunday, we recklessly dove into the deepest of water, discussing who goes first, in our closest relationships. (Maybe more than only our closest relationships.) Who loves first? Who honors first? Who respects first? Who submits first? Sure, it’s uncomfortable, because we really like when they do, but when we both wait for the other, then what?

The Bible has these passages on “household codes,” where we have some clear direction on how to deal with each other, creating healthy soil for beautiful marriages (etc) to grow. Quickly and easily, the answer is “I do,” no matter who is the “I” and who is the “you.” I imagine everyone there in Sunday is feeling a certain type of way, because it took me almost an hour to get to that last short sentence. But maybe the certain type of way is elated, maybe they hang on every word and wish it wasn’t over so soon, no matter how long it is?

Anyway. I wanted to write about this today. It is Wednesday, so there have surely been loads of opportunities to practice. Probably, Sunday afternoon gave plenty of chances to swallow our pride and step out and lean in.

Maybe you were thinking about that friend who never calls…and called her? Or maybe he didn’t do those dishes…so you did? Maybe you had a chance to withhold your affection to teach that husband of yours an important lesson… but didn’t? Maybe she was supposed to say how sorry she is and how right you are, but hasn’t yet, and now you’re faced with a sore backside and a choice… which you used to lay the offense down and move forward?

Or maybe, like my son, you took the opportunity to excuse your own behavior by quoting 1 Corinthians 13, “love keeps no record of wrongs.” Hahaha. The Bible comes in handy in many different ways, doesn’t it? If we know enough verses and are willing to disregard context, we can justify almost anything.

So, how did it go? Were you able to give some solid words of affirmation even though she hasn’t gotten you even the smallest, most insignificant, gift?? (I know, I know, no gift is small and insignificant for someone who speaks the love language of gifts, but you get the point.) Were you able to kiss her even though she hasn’t played a game or watched a movie with you in months??

This post could be called Even Though. We choose to _____ even though ______ . I’ll make dinner tonight for a crew who may not like it, may not appreciate what I’ve done, may not say thanks or clean up afterwards. Probably you will, too. Maybe you won’t want to, maybe you’ll seriously think about leaving dinner unmade, ingredients still in the fridge and cupboard. And we’ll all have a choice. Will we do it even though? Will we go first? Or will we dig in until someone recognizes my obvious high ground?

We were away on a 3 day vacation, and we all had many chances to plant ourselves in our high ground. But I think, the truth is, we all separately realized just how rare and fleeting these moments together are, and decided that missing them was just too high of a cost. Hopefully the next step for me is to realize just how rare and fleeting all moments are, and not miss any more in service of my own fragile ego, and plant something fresh and new in the ‘high’ ground.

Decisions, Decisions

I think, if I had to pick one sentence from yesterday’s message that was the hardest to say, and to hear, it would be: “If he chooses to honor her, if she chooses to honor him…” Whatever comes next, those words are so charged with meaning and possibility. What if he did? What if she did? Then what?

I also wanted to share what I heard in a video on Instagram. An interviewer asked a woman if she was married, and she said yes. At this point, it was very light, she was smiley and easy-going. He then asked her if HE was happy. “Is he happy?” This was surprising, to her, and to me. She restated the question, making sure that she heard correctly, then said, “I thought you’d ask me if I was happy.” He said he wanted to care for him, too. I know, right!??! The mood between them changed, as if he attacked her. She became silent and sullen, finally saying, “**** you,” which I guess, answered the question without answering the question.

I wonder what we’d say if we were asked the same question about our relationships. More than just our marriages, would our friends say they’re happy and valued in our company? Do they feel important, heard, cared for, by us? How about our children? Just to be sure, I told the Angel, if anyone ever asked her, that yes, I was awfully happy. She told me she was, too.

If you had the courage to ask your husband/wife if he/she was happy, what would he/she say? Do you know the answer? Would they tell you the truth? How would you react if the answer was no? Would you be offended, would you pout and make them feel like they shouldn’t have answered so honestly? Would you respond the way that woman in the video did?

Of course, I want all of us to say “Yes,” but I am fully aware that many of us would not. In that case, would the answer change IF he chooses to honor her, IF she chooses to honor him?

One last observation. What is the only requirement to changing the environment between us? Or our environment anywhere? Our choice to act. If we knew we could change the space in our homes with one choice, would we make that decision? Would we stop keeping score, cutting with our words, detaching, punishing each other with our tones or disconnection? Would we speak positively, encourage, and support each other?

And, apparently, what I meant was 2 more observations. The 2nd is…what would our lives look like IF we chose to honor ourselves? Maybe that’s an even bigger ask. We often speak to us in a more destructive manner than we would ever speak to another. We commit such acts of violence towards ourselves, whether it is staying in abusive relationships, acting as if we are absolutely worthless in countless ways.

…And all (I say “all” fully knowing it’s a Herculean “all”) it takes is a choice. And then another, and another, and another. Until everything is different, a whole new creation.

What Will We Choose?

Sunday’s message was about one thing, but it certainly felt like a far bigger bridge to cross. We were talking about the words submission & love in the context of Ephesians 5, in a conversation about our marriage relationships, but so much of it felt like a message on the power of the tongue. The way we speak to each other has the power to build, and it also has the power to absolutely demolish.

Of course, this isn’t just the words we use. There’s a lot more to communication than what would be written on a transcript. There is our posture, non-verbal cues, expressions, body language. When I give these Sunday morning talks, it’s pretty easy to know what everybody thinks based simply on how they are sitting in the pews. A person leaning back with folded arms is having a very different experience than one who leans forward with wide, open eyes. And then, there are the ones who nod off – that’s something else altogether, with little to do with the content. Some scrunch up their faces, some smile, some physically turn their bodies away from me, some write (and it’s obvious if what they’re writing is about the message or funny notes to the one sitting next to them) and others are just patiently waiting for me to finish (and others not so patiently).

This hasn’t even touched on the heart postures we hold toward each other to affect the space between us. Brene Brown wrote a brilliant reference book, labeling & defining our emotions so we have the words to communicate what we are feeling effectively. Usually, we use 3 descriptions: happy, sad, mad. That’s it. But that isn’t nearly enough to adequately convey our current mental/emotional states.

She has a chapter called “Places we go when we feel wronged,” and lists “anger, contempt, disgust, dehumanization, hate, self-righteousness.” We know these are not the same feelings, but we’d often just say ‘mad.’ Contempt is not anger. Brown cites researchers that call contempt “perhaps the most corrosive force in a marriage,” and a “strong predictor of divorce.” My guess is that we didn’t need researchers to tell us that. We have seen the look of contempt, and when we see it in a relationship across the table, we know very well how far past the edge it has gotten and now can only helplessly wait for the official end.

Paul uses submission, respect, honor, and a million others in his letters, but they’re all really just love. These words are all choices. We choose to submit, respect…or to carry the wrecking ball of contempt. Like so much of the Bible, we are left with a BIG decision: What will we choose? Will we choose to heal or to cut further? Will we choose to set down the record of wrongs or put them under our pillows in bed? We have a lot more agency in this than we believe, we do have the power to write new chapters and create new worlds (we are made in the image of our God, and have His Spirit living in us, after all), if only we have the imagination to dream this new story.