In praise of single-tasking

I am not all that perceptive, and it can take a while for something to make an impact on me. But eventually even the obvious can catch my attention. I have been babysitting our granddaughter Abigail once a week since the middle of October, and here’s something I have learned: Babysitting a granddaughter is easier than parenting two sons – at least so far. When I was with Jacob and Joshua when they were growing up, I rarely was able to devote my full time and attention just to them. There was always something else to take care of such as church work or laundry or household concerns of one kind or another. I was feeding Abigail a few weeks ago, and it was taking a bit longer than I had anticipated. But I wasn’t the slightest bit impatient since I had nothing else to do or nowhere else to go. I didn’t have to rush her through her meal so I could pack her up and run some errands. The only item listed on my agenda that day was: “Watch Abigail.” I am often an impatient person, and it is usually because my mind is already moving beyond what I am doing to what I need to be doing. It is rare to have only one item on my agenda for an entire day, but on Mondays that’s the way it almost always is. I bring along my laptop, and when Abigail takes a nap I sometimes do some writing, sermon research, or return some emails (if I am not taking a nap at the same time that she sleeps). But I never assume I will have the time to do any of those things so I am not uptight if I don’t get them done. On one day of the week, all of my time, attention, and devotion are directed to one person. I am not in any hurry to move from one activity to another. I am not saying that it isn’t tiring because I can be exhausted by the end of the day after my drive home. And the more mobile she gets the more interesting things will become. It can be tiring but it is as simple and uncomplicated as a day could be. My priorities are clear and not in conflict when I am “single-tasking.” How many of us are ever able to give a full day of undivided attention to just one person without looking at the clock and thinking about what comes next? How many of us are able to direct a day’s worth of time, attention, and devotion to God alone? For most of us most of the time, the answer to each question is “never.” Most of us have a hard enough time focusing on God for one hour during Sunday worship without our attention wandering to other things that we will be doing that day. Most of us have busy lives with crowded schedules that do not easily lend themselves to prioritizing a single person for an entire day. Numerous studies have suggested that multi-tasking (which most of us do on a regular basis) just doesn’t work very well. Our performance is less than ideal when we are not focused. One report suggests that we damage our brains and our IQ decreases when we attempt too many intense multi-tasking activities at the same time. I am under the impression that Jesus didn’t do a lot of multi-tasking. He seemed to be focused on the moment – on one thing at a time and one person at a time – regardless of how much demand there was for his time and attention. And there was always someone or something needing his time and his consideration. Jesus may not have always given people everything they wanted – some went away unhappy or upset – but he always gave them his full attention. And many people probably had never been looked at that deeply or completely in their entire lives. You can argue that Jesus helped transform the world as much through his ability to honor and to elevate individual people as he did through any particular teaching or commandment. Jesus regarded every person from the prostitute to the priest as deserving the best of what he had to offer. If you want to transform your own world, try simplifying and eliminating rather than complicating and adding. Do fewer things but make sure they are the most important things. If you can’t give things up easily (or if your boss keeps adding), then at least do one thing at a time. And try the same approach to your relationships. Pick the ones that are the most important to you and give them more of your undivided time and focused attention. Go deeper with them rather than cultivating too many surface level relationships that will bear little fruit. Certain people are worth more of your life, aren’t they? Make a decision to spend concentrated time with God. It is a new season – a season of new life. Make your own life more life-giving (for you and for others) by eliminating multitasking and replacing it with “single tasking.” And try taking those naps when possible. You won’t regret it.

What's Trending Now?

Let me tell you something that never fails to bug me. I’ll be watching the local news (yes, I still watch TV news, and I read a hard copy of a newspaper almost every day – in other words I am old), and the reporter will say, “Let’s see what is trending right now” or “Let’s see what is blowing up on the blogosphere.” Invariably this is a lead-in to something that a certain percentage of those on Twitter, Facebook, and other social media seem to be in an uproar about at that second. An hour or two later, that trend will likely have died down to be replaced by something of even less importance. For a few minutes last week, the huge trending story according to a local Cleveland news program was the question of whether or not Beyonce had lines and blemishes on her face. Some unretouched photos of her had been released which seemed to indicate that Beyonce might have a few pimples. Now the Beyonce complexion scandal was a welcome relief from yet one more weather person standing outside in a parka announcing: “Cooooooooold, it will be cooooooold. Bundle up the kiddies.” That’s a story we’ve all seen too much of in recent weeks. But it seems obvious to me anyway that even the expression “trend” indicates something of little lasting importance. A trend is a fad, isn’t it? Something that is popular today and forgotten tomorrow. With so much around us every day that is trending, I am more interested in what is of lasting importance. Something that will be here today and tomorrow (and maybe was even around yesterday). In one scene from the movie “Birdman” which won the Best Picture Oscar this past week, Riggan Thompson (played by Michael Keaton) is arguing with his daughter (played be Emma Stone) about what is important and relevant. Here is part of the daughter’s rant against her father: You hate bloggers. You mock Twitter. You don't even have a Facebook page. You're the one who doesn't exist. You're doing this because you're scared to death, like the rest of us, that you don't matter and, you know what, you're right. You don't! It's not important, okay? You're not important! Get used to it. How do we separate the important from the irrelevant? Does a presence on the Internet through Facebook, Twitter, or a blog indicate that someone or something is newsworthy and noteworthy? Or is it all just something that is trending now but is ancient history later? As some of you know, I was in the Boston area in early February working with a couple of churches. One of the churches recently celebrated its 300th birthday. In other words, that congregation is older than the United States of America by over 50 years. By the standards of churches in Europe and other areas, three hundred is not very many years old, but I was still impressed. That is a congregation that hasn’t been just a trend or a fad or a passing fancy. It was born many generations ago and has been successfully passing on the faith. But the members of that congregation know that despite three hundred years of ministry, they are not guaranteed to last even another generation without constant and continuous effort. And they now have a Facebook page. If YouTube had been around during the time of Jesus, I am sure that clips of some of his teachings would have made their way onto the Internet. Some who Jesus healed would have written their memoirs and appeared on TV to promote them: “I was Blind but now I See” or “Living with Leprosy – The Secret of Softer Skin.” I am sure that even the Resurrection may have trended for a time online. But I am also certain that after awhile, cute camel videos would have replaced the Sermon on the Mount clips. So often, we are attracted by that which amuses us rather than that which challenges and changes us. Lent has just started and Easter is a number of weeks away. During this season, I encourage you to spend some of your time and invest some of your heart in consciously connecting with that wise teacher Jesus of Nazareth. He shared a message that has outlasted all of the messengers who have brought it to others. What is trending now in your life? What is of lasting value now in your life?

Keep Your Motor Running

I was out running in a strange city early in the morning, and even though I was enjoying myself I was wary. I hadn’t checked out the route with anyone, and I kept waiting for someone with a weapon and evil intentions to jump out at me from the shadows. As the sun began to rise, the shadows began to shrink, and my field of vision grew larger. I relaxed, but I still steered clear of any areas that seemed at all suspicious. I was almost back at my car which I had parked in an empty lot about an hour earlier. But as I grew closer I saw that my car was not all alone. Someone had pulled up a mini-van right next to my car, and the engine was running. I wasn’t sure what to think, but I was grateful that the min-van was not between me and my car’s driver’s door. I was almost at that door and was pulling out my key when the side door of that mini-van slid open and a smiling man in a three piece suit leaped out. He came towards me, and I noticed he had a leather book gripped in one arm. I didn’t know if it was a Bible, a Koran, or a catalog from Amway or Land’s End. But I knew that the man who I had never met before and who was jumping out of a van with the engine still running in the early morning hours wanted something from me. Before he spoke a word, I put my right arm up with my palm towards him and said: “I’m good.” Now if he knew me, he would have known that was an untrue statement. But it was the first thing that came out for my mouth. What I meant was some jumbled version of: “I don’t know who you are or what you are selling or if you are trying to kidnap me and throw me in the back of the van. But I am freaked out and a bit scared. So back off.” Apparently he couldn’t adequately translate “I’m good” because he kept coming and asked: “Do you know who you are?” I am sure that if I hadn’t known who I was that he would have had the answer for that question either in the leather book or the back of his van. But thankfully for me, his question was one to which I knew the answer. I replied: “Yes, I do” as I opened my car door and climbed in. He didn’t wait for me to start my car but jumped back in the van, and it sped off presumably to park next to another car all by itself in a parking lot, to keep the engine running, and wait for the owner of that car to return. I am thinking that probably the dressed up man and his driver had the best of intentions. Maybe they were Christian evangelists and someone had sold them on the “park next to a solitary car, keep your engine running, then jump out when the driver approaches” school of evangelism. Maybe they were an Amway sales team. Maybe they were human traffickers n the market for 58 year old men (a limited market to be sure). I don’t know who they were, and I admit that I was already in a suspicious state of mind when I encountered them. You might even say that I was a bit paranoid. Had I been walking into a church foyer on a Sunday morning, I would not have been startled if a smiling and suited man had walked towards me holding a leather book, although his question “Do you know who you are?” is generally a better question for a hospital emergency room than as a conversation starter with a new person. So what’s the point of my telling this tale to you? In the days following that incident, I have asked myself about how we share our faith with others. Many people who don’t go to church are suspicious and wary of organized religion. Sometimes their feelings are based on personal experiences, but other times their views are uninformed yet very real. I think most people do want to know who they are and do want to know where they fit it, yet they are apprehensive about a slick and smiling salesman trying to sell them the answer. Is our local church a safe place to explore life’s biggest questions, or are we a community that drives people away? Do are methods of sharing our faith startle people and make them uneasy? Or do we create an atmosphere that encourages open conversation about what matters most in life? Let us avoid the “park next to a solitary car, keep your engine running, then jump out when the driver approaches” school of evangelism.” It doesn’t even work on ministers. AMEN

The Monk and the Strawberry

I first heard this parable many years ago, and I was drawn to it in recent weeks. You may know it. There once was a monk who was out picking fruit in the morning to bring back to the monastery for breakfast. As he was grabbing an apple, he heard a snapping sound behind him – someone or something was approaching. He turned his head slowly and saw a tiger coming into the clearing. He didn’t know whether the tiger had seen him or not so he carefully and quietly began to back up and out of the clearing. The tiger detected his movement and turned in his direction. Soon the monk was running and the tiger was chasing. The monk ran until he had to stop – he had run to the edge of a cliff. He thought that the tiger would end up having him for breakfast. As the monk looked over the side, he saw a vine leading down the wall of the cliff face and began to climb down as he held on to that vine. He figured that he would head down to the ground far below and would be safe from the chasing tiger. But as he went down, the monk looked down as well and saw a second tiger waiting to pounce on him if he went all of the way down. So he stopped. He couldn’t go up, he couldn’t go down – each way would lead to death. As he wondered how long he might be able to hang on to that vine, a small mouse poked his head out of a hole a few feet above the monk’s head and began to nibble and gnaw at the vine. The monk looked around hoping he might find something else to hold onto. As he looked, he saw another vine just within his reach – a strawberry vine. He knew it wouldn’t hold his weight, but it did hold the weight of a succulent strawberry. The monk reached over, grabbed the strawberry, and put it into his mouth. It was the best strawberry he had ever tasted. As I recall, the first time I heard this story it ended right there. It was literally a cliffhanger much as the parables of Jesus often end with all a lot of questions unanswered. But I read a longer version of the story this week which picked up where the other ended and also provided “the moral of the story.” It went something like this: Refreshed by the strawberry, the monk kept searching and found a tiny ledge which would serve as a foothold. He maneuvered to it and managed to put both feet on it just as the vine was nibbled through and fell away. He was able to remain there safely for a long time. After a while, both the tiger above him and the tiger below him grew bored and went away looking for their meal elsewhere. The monk carefully climbed down and made his way back to the monastery where he shared his harrowing tale. The monk said, “I learned something important today. Too often I spend time worrying about things from the past that have already happened – like the tiger above. Or I worry about other things that might happen someday – the tiger below. And I also allow daily concerns to nibble and gnaw away at me. If I stay focused on those things, I won’t take the time to notice and to savor the wonderful strawberries that come my way.” Jesus made the same point many years ago when he said:”Do not worry about your life, what you will eat and drink or what you will wear. Seek first the kingdom of God and all these things will be given to you. Do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” We all have tigers in our lives, don’t we? And we also have gnawing fears and concerns. Don’t spend so much time on those things that you miss the strawberries. Where will you find your strawberry today? Jim

Real Bibles Don't Bend

It was a few days into Vacation Bible School, and I had led my third session of the evening. My video lesson took place in the Lord’s Worker’s classroom which I delightfully shared with Brenda and Fran who prepared and served the snacks. I knew that my lesson would always take a back seat to the snack, and I was ok with that. On Sundays we serve coffee and donuts. In worship we have communion. In church, there has to be food in some form just about every time we meet. So the kids had had their snacks and their lesson, and we were just waiting for the bell to tell us to go to the sanctuary for closing activities. I was sitting in the teacher’s chair at the front of the classroom and noticed an attractive looking softbound leather Bible at the podium. I picked it up, and it opened to the first chapter of the Song of Solomon (also called the Song of Songs). I started to read it somewhat absentmindedly. It begins with “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth – for your love is more delightful than wine.” A young girl noticed what I was doing and asked: “What are you reading?” There was no way that I was going to tell her exactly what I was reading so I said, “The Bible.” “Are you sure?” she replied. “Yes, I’m sure,” I said and turned to the front of the book, pointed to the title page, and read “Holy Bible.” “What does ‘Holy’ mean? she asked. I was beginning to think that I should try to get her another snack, but I told her that “Holy” meant sacred or special. She thought for a moment and proclaimed, “That’s not the real Bible.” “Sure it is,” I said. “Nope,” she replied. “Real Bibles don’t bend.” Just then the bell was ringing to end the session. And I knew that I had probably heard the most profound and provocative thing that I would hear all week. At some level, I knew that she was referring to the fact that that particular Bible was softbound rather than hardbound. And I assumed that the Bible in her home was a hardbound one. But at another level, I knew that she had shared an important truth for all of us. And I didn’t have to dig that hard to find the treasure in her words. Many people try to manipulate the Bible to fit their own goals, agendas, and viewpoints. Rather than the Bible informing and shaping their beliefs, they already know what their beliefs are before they open their Bibles. They search for just the right verse(s) to justify their actions. They try to bend the words of scripture into the shape that works the best for them. But “Real Bibles don’t bend,” do they? The Bible does not bend but the Bible is alive. I believe that the Bible is not just a rigid set of outmoded rules but is the living Word of God which brings new life and guidance to every generation of believers. The Bible is both ancient yet fresh at the same time. The purpose of the Bible is to change us and bend us to God’s will rather than giving us ammunition to back up our own self-centered perspective. I always learn something valuable at Vacation Bible School, and it usually comes from the children. Jim

Your Children's Children

I was reading Psalm 128 this morning which contains this blessing: “May you live to see your children’s children.” Since our granddaughter Abigail Joy was born on July 23, this is the first time I had read this passage and heard it as a blessing realized for our family. Abigail is Jacob and Heather’s first child and the first grandchild for Holly and I. Some of you have a lot of experience in being grandparents or even great grandparents, but it is all new to us. One of the things that I am noticing about myself is that I am thinking longer term than I did before. I certainly cannot predict the future – what will or will not come to pass – but the year 2032 has gained a new meaning for me. That is the year that Abigail will turn 18 and likely will be graduating from high school. I don’t know what the world will be like in 2032, but the fact that someone I love will be turning 18 that year makes me feel invested in it more deeply than I previously was. Whether I am around by then remains to be seen – by then most of my future will be in my past – but I want the best possible future for Abigail. I was thinking of my grandmother recently and how she took her husband’s paychecks from Republic Steel in Niles, Ohio and used some of the funds to buy stocks and bonds. She was a strong willed woman, and I am sure that my Pap didn’t have all that much to say about the matter. The regular bills including house payments got paid on time, but funds were regularly set aside for the future. I am not sure how long Grandma Bane invested in the future, but I am certain that it was way before my birth in 1956. When I went to Harvard Divinity School in 1978, funds were available from her to pay my way. My grandfather’s labor and my grandmother’s stewardship of his wages made sure that one of their “children’s children” could become a minister. And when she died, more funds were there to help a young couple cover some of the costs of raising their first child Jacob – one of her “children’s children’s children.” So often there is so much immediacy and urgency in so many parts of our lives that it is really hard to think much beyond the day, the week, or the month. But children and grandchildren and great grandchildren are reminders to us that there is a future to be lived - if not by us then by those we love and care for. This future is in God’s hands yet I know that God invites us to invest what we have to make it the best possible future for others. JIM

Weighing In On Fat Tuesday

My wife Holly gave me a new set of bathroom scales for Christmas. I love Holly, but I have not yet warmed up to these new scales even though we have a daily up close and personal encounter with one another. Here’s the problem: My old set of scales could be counted on to give me a range of daily readings from which I could choose the number that I wanted. While on the scale, if I posed like Ralph Macchio of the Karate Kid facing down his enemy, I could usually cajole that old scale into taking a few pounds off that we both recognized were there. We both knew it was a lie, but that old scale wouldn’t bring it up and neither would I. It was a lie that friends keep between themselves for the sake of the relationship. But the new scale (a more upscale scale – an electronic version) doesn’t understand my need to have some flexibility in my daily weigh-ins. I stand on it and within a few seconds a number (which I rarely like) is illuminated. If I step off the scale and then on again, the exact same number lights up as if the scale is saying: “How dense are you, anyway? You couldn’t read it the first time? Try me again, Tubby, if you have the guts, and I know that you do.” If the reading on my new scale is too disheartening, I sometimes seek out my old friend who usually gives me at least one lighter option. But I have to tell you that as much as I love that second opinion that I am beginning to understand that it isn’t all that helpful or healthy for me. As hard as it is, I am beginning to accept the new set of numbers as representing the way things really are rather than the way that I want them to be. It is not easy to be confronted with the facts, is it? It is hard to face the truth about ourselves whether that truth is our weight or something else. Most of us prefer to have at least a couple of options from which we can choose, from which we can construct the version of ourselves that makes us look the best. But if we want to be healthy, and if we want to be free, the truth has a way of grounding us in reality and providing us with a clearer sense of who we really are and what we face. Jesus tells us that the truth will set us free, and after we get over our shock and denial, we begin to recognize his wisdom. One of the many things that I appreciate about Lent is that it can offer us a daily reality check about how we really stand with God and with one another rather than how we like to portray ourselves. Those who give up something that they value for Lent will be faced with deprivation and denial and the inevitable question: “Do I love this thing more than I love God?” Those who create more silence in their lives for this season will end up hearing voices that they usually don’t hear – either the sound of their own heart or the voice of God. If you are willing to listen and to be open to the facts about who you are and where you stand, the season of Lent can lead you “from the unreal to the real, from darkness into light” as they say at the end of a yoga session. Lent can be an up close and personal encounter with God. Entering into Lent is not for the weak-hearted or for those who love the darkness more than the light or the lies more than the truth. If you allow it to do so, Lent has a way of accurately assessing you even if you are tempted to stand in a Karate Kid position to obscure the facts. So on Fat Tuesday, let us gather as many opinions as we can about who we are. But let us have the courage to step on a set of more truthful scales tomorrow.