I’ve been waiting for this ever since they released Logos Bible Software for iOS – highlighting and notes are now available on the mobile app! And better yet, it fully synchronizes with the Desktop app. Awesome.
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I’ve been waiting for this ever since they released Logos Bible Software for iOS – highlighting and notes are now available on the mobile app! And better yet, it fully synchronizes with the Desktop app. Awesome. In my Bible reading yesterday morning, I came across one of my favorite passages in the Scriptures, Matthew 9:35-39. As Matthew recounts this story, he sets the context by telling his readers what Jesus was doing: (1) going everywhere he could (“all the towns and villages”), (2) teaching where they were already gathered (the synagogue), (3) preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and (4) healing every disease and every sickness. I think there’s something neat about those four in that it’s a great “practice what you preach” sandwich–the inner two describe his teaching and preaching ministry, and the outer two describe his on the ground, active seeking out of people and helping them in a holistic way. He taught and he healed, connecting the spiritual and physical realities of the gospel of the kingdom. My favorite part of the passage, though, sits in verse 36–”When he saw the crowds, he had compassion (ἐσπλαγχνίσθη) on them.” The verb translated “had compassion” is σπλαγχνίζομαι, defined as “have pity, feel sympathy”, and I have to say it has a nice, albeit harsh, ring to it: splanchnizomai. The noun form is σπλάγχνον (splanchnon), which literally means “the inward parts of a body, including esp. the viscera, inward parts, entrails” (BDAG, 938). Thus, the translation “had compassion” connects a deep, heartfelt emotion that goes all the way down to your guts. Jesus really felt it for these folks. They were harassed and helpless, and he was moved in his most inward parts to love them. Following the trail in a dictionary a little bit further, I found that there are two other key stories where this verb shows up: The Parable of the Prodigal Son and The Good Samaritan story. In the story of the prodigal son, the father–betrayed, spat on, and rejected by the younger son–has this response to his wayward son’s return: “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion (ἐσπλαγχνίσθη) for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.” (Luke 15:20 NIV) All he needed was to see him, and his guts were moved, he ran, and he welcomed him home. Then, there’s the Good Samaritan seeing the injured man in Luke 10:33 (ESV): “But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion (ἐσπλαγχνίσθη).” But he didn’t just feel bad for him, he did something about it–he tended to his wounds, brought him to an inn, and paid for his stay. As Hans-Helmut Esser notes,
I’ve heard it said that compassion without action is not compassion at all, but sympathy. Jesus demonstrates to us that real compassion involves active participation in addressing the needs of the hurting. Humanity and neighborliness are not qualities but action. That takes guts. A great piece from The Economist on how Fuji weathered the turbulent waters of the shift from analog to digital photography. It basically came down to forward thinking and a willingness to let something die and embrace something new. Here’s an excerpt:
I recently participated in a fascinating workshop on Improvement Science that addressed how change happens in a context of systems (used originally in health care and now being applied to education). One of the most thought-provoking assertions for me came in the form of a quote from Paul Batalden: “Every system is perfectly designed to achieve exactly the results that it achieves.” In other words, if you build a factory that makes pencils, it will make pencils! There will be some defects here and there, but by and large, it will make pencils and a lot of them. So to make any sort of change in output, you can’t necessarily blame the personnel (although they certainly play a part), but you have to look very closely at the entire ecosystem in which those people carry out their jobs. Is there an inefficiency in the eraser attaching station? (I’m making this up, I have no idea how to make a pencil). Then you can’t blame the worker for attaching erasers too slowly, you have to re-evaluate the process within the system where the erasers are attached. Or, to provide a more day-to-day example, think about your commute to work. I take the 38L (Limited stops) or the 38BX (Express bus, almost no stops) bus every day, whichever one comes first. But if I took the 38 (many stops), it would be less efficient. I can’t blame the 38 bus, I have to make a change to shorten my commute time. Same thing can be applied to driving–if 101 South from SF to the Penninsula clogs up every day during the 7am hour (I experienced this first hand), then you have to make a change: either wake up earlier and commute partially during the 6am hour, or take a different route (280 South). But don’t blame 101 South. It’s handling exactly the traffic it was designed to, driver inefficiencies included. Or, to take a current sports example, look at the relative success of the 49ers this season compared to last, with essentially the same personnel. What changed? The coach, yes, but essentially what changed was the system! (Full Disclaimer: I don’t really know anything about football, so I am completely open to correction on this analogy). This all got me thinking–does this sort of improvement science thinking apply to the church context? A common attempt to solve church problems happens on the personnel or people level–change the pastor, swap out small group leaders, use teaching or training to fill gaps in theology or thinking processes, have more prayer and worship times to facilitate people’s connection to God, and many other good things. And this is a natural way to go about things, because that’s what is right in front of us. This is undoubtedly a tricky question, because a church at its core is the people (see my post “Mischaracterizations of Church“), not an institution. However, there is value in a “living systems” approach, which sees the church as a live and active organism that moves, breathes, reproduces, and depends on its constituent parts to form a healthy whole. Moreover, when one part of the system is operating inefficiently or is experiencing some sort of trauma or unhealthiness, then the whole system suffers as a result. But what if the problem is the system? From the start, the church is not a factory. It’s not simply an input-output machine where you put a person in one end and get a result out the other. But our post-industrial mindset teds to conceive of church as that way. A better approach would be to recognize the organic nature of the church as a living system working synergistically. As Alan Hirsch aptly puts it in his book The Forgotten Ways, “the church in its most phenomenal form organizes itself as a living organism that reflects more how God has structured life itself, as opposed to a machine, which is the artificial, inorganic alternative to a living system” (Hirsch, 180). What exactly does this sort of approach look like?
If we take an improvement science approach to a church organism, then, it would involve identifying unhealthy or inefficient parts of the system (not the people, per se), and correcting them. So if people aren’t growing in their prayer life, a first move might be to evaluate what things are in place that are supposed to foster a healthy environment for growth. Moreover, it’s not simply a “More is Better” approach–it may not be that more preaching or more prayer gatherings is what’s needed to help the overall health of the church organism. What may be needed is a complete re-conception of the system itself. That’s where I think re-constructionists like Hirsch and an improvement science approach can be quite helpful. Instead of applying band-aids or swapping personnel, a living systems improvement approach would require deep thinking and reconfiguration. It would mean asking a lot of hard questions and examining every cog in the church, comparing it to known kingdom values, and removing or changing those parts that don’t conform. That process can be quite jarring, but I think it’s worth it f it means healthier, more Christ-centered disciples. Not to leave God out of the equation, I think where the application of improvement science principles breaks down is that it can’t account for a transcendent God that constantly surprises us and works as He wants to work. We simply cannot systematize God, and even if we create the “perfect” environment for spiritual growth, ultimately nothing will happen without a work of the Holy Spirit. Simultaneously, as responsible disciples, our task is to listen to God, do what He says, and create the best environment possible in our churches with what we’re given. And that takes work on our part. I think this also breaks down a bit because the church IS the people, and any structures or systems associated with it–when operating organically–are quite intertwined. That makes it hard to just make a systems change that is distinct from the people themselves. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this!
At the same time, I know there’s a lurking unhealthiness to the whole economy of Likes. When I post something and I get relatively few Likes, or (gasp!) none at all, I subconsciously (or perhaps consciously) start to question myself. Was I not witty enough? Was it a poorly composed photo? Was my blog post just meaningless meandering with no point? (Quite possible) And then if that happens over a string of posts, then I get discouraged and feel less inclined to participate. Or, worse yet, sometimes I wonder if I’m posting something solely for the Like. I was reminded of this love/hate relationship I have with Facebook Likes when I was reading Jesus’ comments on prayer in Matthew 6:5-6 over the weekend–
I know, writing and posting stuff on Facebook is NOT the same as praying. But it did give me pause and wonder about whose affirmation I thrive on. I like being liked. No doubt. But does my heart truly resonate with the truth that the only Like that really matters is God’s? The whole “living for an audience of One” idea, where God’s view of you is the only one that ultimately matters. That’s hard, though, especially when we don’t feel like we’re hearing God. There’s another part of the puzzle, though, and I think it involves a reorientation away from individualism and toward seeing ourselves as unique individuals part of a larger whole. In fact, right after Jesus’ admonition to pray in private so as to keep your motivation in check, he provides his model prayer, the Lord’s Prayer (Matt. 6:9-13). Notice that the way the whole prayer is phrased is in a communal manner, with all the petitions in the first person plural: Our father in heaven… Give us this day our daily bread… Forgive us our debts, as we have forgiven our debtors… Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one… There’s a beautiful richness that comes from living life as part of a community, with mutual encouragement, and constant reminders that we’re a part of a greater whole, and that God uses and works through collections of people. While I don’t think facebook is a substitute for face to face communities, I do think it plays a part in the overall collection of people in our lives. And our communities help us grow in maturity. One of the most helpful pieces of advice I heard long ago as a young worship leader was that when people tell you “good job” after a worship set, you can legitimately receive that affirmation and simply say, “thank you.” No need to say “it was all God” (and if it truly was, it would’ve been perfect, right?”) or resort to some form of false humility. Just a plain self-recognition of your hard work combined with how God worked through you shall suffice. Not claiming any more credit than you ought, but just accepting some legitimate encouragement. That’s how communities of individuals function. Certain people do certain things well, and others do other things well. And the community affirms others in that community through various means–even a Facebook Like. I think that there can be a healthy approach to this built-in desire for external affirmation in the form of a Like. Yes, we do need to embrace the real truth that God deeply loves us as He made us, and that in the grand scheme of things, that’s all that matters. But at the same time, He designed us to thrive in the context of communities (including extended virtual communities like Facebook), and receiving affirmation through such channels is fine and healthy. Just don’t make that your top ambition. Live how God wants you to, share what you want, and receive affirmation where it’s due. So I don’t mind if people Like this post (or not). And I’ll still greatly enjoy it when people Like my photos and other stuff I post on Facebook. And I’ll keep doling out Likes for things that make me smile or laugh. But my worth comes from Jesus. At the same time, because I am embedded in a community of people, I can receive that affirmation in a variety of ways, through a variety of people. Thanks. |
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