The Extra That Plagues Us

In our adult Sunday School group this week, the opening discussion question was to describe a trait in one of your parents or grandparents that you admire and wish to emulate. The answers to the question dominated the discussion for the rest of our meeting. Across fourteen group members, there were two commonalities.

One was just how "other-centric" the previous two generations have been. They not only had a heart for others, they also had a mind for them. They planned service. They sought service, looking for opportunities in the likeliest of places instead of waiting until a need arose to respond. They prayed for and spoke about their love for their neighbors, both known and unknown.

The other characteristic that prevailed was a certain stoicism among them. They did what needed to be done. They worked long, hard hours for their families at work that wasn't fun or easy. They sacrificed. They endured. And through it all, they didn't complain. They faced the tasks and duties in front of them and saw them for what they were: necessary obstacles that would only be removed if they removed them themselves. Talking about their displeasure or discomfort was futile, and therefore absent.

After hearing all that everyone had to say, and recognizing the unscripted connections across our parents and grandparents, we sat back and asked what had become of us.

The group was full of individuals I would describe as wise, loving, passionate Christians. And yet nearly all of us agreed that we lacked the characteristics described. We are too quick to be frustrated, too ready to voice our complaints, and more often than not too self-focused to anticipate others' needs before they occur. What happened? What was in our way? Or more accurately, what was causing us to put ourselves in our own way so much?

The easy answer is technology, and primarily Facebook. Social media asks us to advertise ourselves, to brand ourselves and make our pictures, our vacations, our political views, and our parenting techniques front and center for the world to see. It's difficult to think of others when the opportunities to scream, "Look at me! Look at me! Like me! Agree with me!" dominate our day.

But it's not Facebook's fault. Not Twitter or Instagram's either. Those common whipping posts are merely tools of the time, used or misused according to the inclinations of the user. Facebook can be used to learn about the needs and desires of others, to celebrate and support their lives (or the virtual ones they are willing to offer). Twitter can be used to widen a worldview, to stay informed and challenged and growing and connected. If we are using them improperly, it is our own sickly hearts to blame.

So what are the causes? I don't know for sure. Too much money, probably. Too much leisure. Too many activities. Too many channels. Too many things to do and not enough of them really worth doing. We have more of everything, and we seem to be less personally satisfied and less altruistic. That should probably tell us something.

But I also believe that the two qualities described in our predecessors go hand in hand. With one comes the other. Whatever the root causes, when we are self-focused, we have more to complain about. The more we complain, the more we see and talk about and worry about ourselves. And then we're too busy cleaning up our own messes to be of any use to others.

Therein lies the solution, perhaps. Choose one quality, and the other will follow. If I commit to complaining less and stoically facing the day regardless of random odious tasks, perhaps I will shut up enough to listen to others, recognize their needs, and realize the opportunity for service and real joy. Or if I commit to seeking my neighbor's good and planning for ways to serve those in need, I will have realized that I really have little that's worth complaining about.

The extra that plagues us with the temptation to chase empty living isn't going anywhere. If we seek to matter in our homes and in our work, and matter in a way that causes us to be remembered decades later in a gathering of friends, we must purposefully follow in the memorable steps of those before us. They certainly made mistakes that we will wish to avoid as well. My glasses aren't permanently rose-colored. But they got these two qualities right. And we would do well to take notice.

On Quotations and Tweets and Headlines. . .

I've always been a quote guy.

I love inspirational quotes. In my classroom I often use them as writing prompts. When reading a novel like The Great Gatsby or Pride and Prejudice, I'll pull out single sentences or phrases to present to the class in order to dissect in terms of meaning and value. We often started basketball practice by giving a player a quote related to basketball or life or both and asked them to comment on its application for our team. I collect quotes on reading and writing and Christianity and leadership, tucked away in random notebooks and computer files to find, or not find, some day. Several quotation collections stand ready on my bookshelf in my living room, or in my office collection, or in my desk drawer at school.

When I write, I use quotes. Several of my blog posts will begin with a quote from this book or that Bible verse or some news article. Quotations will occasionally color my sermons, shining wit and wisdom onto the audience from the projector screen above.

Twitter has revolutionized our thinking in many ways, and I must confess to adding to the social media noise. What can be said in 140 characters? A lot, apparently. Because everyone is finding a way to say it. Anything too long need not apply. Multiple clauses beware: we have neither the time, nor the inclination, to tolerate your complexities. Jubilation, inspiration, degradation, and emulation abound, requesting a favorite or retweet of approval, a personal public claim of tribe and creed and philosophy.

Roy Peter Clark writes in his book How to Write Short: Word Craft for Fast Times this blog-worthy (and tweet worthy) quote: "Americans love to be inspired by two-minute blasts of good writing." I couldn't agree more. I am one of them. Give me a succinct snippet of truth over my lunch hour any day. I just question our willingness to hang in there for a full two minutes.

Brief quotes, verse of the day apps, and book jacket excerpts are all well and good. I refuse to disparage them here. I preach concise writing. Foundational statements that can be quickly recited are necessary bones on which to build a company, a community, or a life. But we are tempted to believe life is as simple as those brief quotes, or those 140 character thoughts, or those 30-second news clips or talking-head diatribes, or even headlines. We want that to tell the entire story. We want it to be that simple. But it's so much more complicated than that.

These short bursts will not carry us through or address reality. If we are not careful, if we are as intellectually lazy as we are tempted to be, they will instead mask reality, serving as barriers to both speaker and listener, keeping questions and complexities at bay. They will inspire us for a moment without changing us for a day. They will confirm our assumptions and question nothing. They will tell us all we want to know - just enough to be confident, not enough to require more of us. The motivation will last as long as the source.

Can you describe yourself appropriately in one sentence?

Perhaps, then, prayer and Republicans and Muslims and joy and parenting and perseverance go a little deeper as well.

I remain a quotes guy who thinks they matter. I will continue to advocate for succinct writing and saying more with less. But those two minute blasts that Clark was talking about only really matter as a glimmer of the whole. Fitzgerald's final line pointing our boats against the current carries the most depth to those who have read of Gatsby's exploits. John 3:16 means a whole lot more in the context of the entire gospel message. The tweets of professional athletes are much deeper if. . . well maybe that's as deep as they go. Strike that.

To be responsible citizens, to be personally growth-minded, and most importantly to see truth and God more clearly, the headlines and tweets and storehouse of Google search results must only serve as reminders, as pictures of the mountain, not the mountain air itself. And I've never breathed in mountain air that wasn't worth the journey.