Just tell me the rules!

Have you ever reached that point? You can’t see a way forward or you’re not sure which way to turn and you just want a step-by-step guide?

The Internet thrives on this human desire for an instruction manual. You can get rich without labor, lose weight without sweat, and find the perfect mate without risk. Just send $19.95, and if you hurry we’ll throw in a set of steak knives.

We all know it doesn’t work that way, right? But when the storm hits and the water’s rising, I suspect we’d all like Seven Simple Steps To Drain The Swamp.

I’ve been thinking about Rules, Games and Life and my observation that life doesn’t work like a game. Today I’d like to take apart our natural approaches to rules. I see two general tendencies: rulers and rebels.

Rulers

make rules to force compliance with their version of absolutes. They construct elaborate codes to address every contingency, then add new layers of rules about rules to close loopholes. Rulers derive power by controlling others’ behavior.

Rulers don’t create unified, growing long-term communities because their circles are based on coercion and force. People tend to enter and remain out of fear, so rulers retain control by fostering apprehension among the people in their circles.

Rebels

defy authority and actively assert autonomy from rulers.

Rebels often have an interesting relationship with rules. They believe rules were made to be broken and loopholes to be discovered and exploited. Yet they’re quick to assert their rights and demand the protection of laws when it’s expedient. They frequently justify choices by citing technicalities that make their behavior “legal.”

Articulate, charismatic rebels attract incredibly cohesive communities. People rally when confronted by a common threat, and “the man” provides an easy, convenient enemy. Accomplished rebels identify and demonize the enemy, skillfully amplifying the threat of an amorphous “they” who’s out to get “us” because we won’t adhere to their expectations.

Rulers and rebels have a lot in common.

Both groups derive their identity from their relationship to rules. Rulers create and enforce, rebels defy and resist. Rules unite their communities and define the borders of their circles.

Both groups are highly invested in identifying “us” and “them.” They undermine proper order and trample obvious moral standards. They demand arbitrary compliance with random, unnecessary expectations.

Both groups need an enemy to unite their communities. No enemy, no one to fear. No enemy, no one to defy.

Ruler/Rebel is a continuum. Most folks probably live somewhere near the middle. They’re sometimes rulers, sometimes rebels.

It’s also interesting that the extremes resemble each other. Extremist rebel leaders encourage compliance with their non-conformist mantra, while extremist rulers actively oppose competing sets of rules. Religious and political personalities, pundits, talk show hosts, and celebrity media types often control by rebellion. Their rhetoric is more about opposition than promotion of an agenda.

A Third Option

To me, life seems like a very wide road with a lot of latitude for choice. Yes, there are boundaries, those white lines that define the edges. But unless I want to rob banks or sell heroine to kids, those lines don’t limit my choices much. I don’t find myself frequently wanting to commit murder or cheat widows out of their savings, and I’m betting that you don’t either. So “what’s legal” doesn’t really impact my choices.

The point is that I’m relatively free to choose my own lane.

Rulers use fear to narrow the road. They’d like us to believe that anyone outside their particular lane is on the road to hell and wants to take the rest of us along. Followers remain in the “straight and narrow” due to fear and obligation.

To me, their arbitrary restrictions seem irrelevant. Acknowledging their silly lines only feeds their sense of power.

Rebels actually take the rulers’ imaginary markings seriously. They purposely live at the edges and congratulate each other for violating borders that don’t even exist.

Seems like the third option involves simply ignoring the rulers’ fear-mongering.  Their lines have no relevance unless I choose to acknowledge their existence. This also makes rebelling sort of silly. What’s the point of consciously defying imaginary limitations?

WDJD? (what did Jesus do)

Jesus reserved his harshest words for those who turned worship into exhaustive, detailed lists of expectations and requirements. He knew that following rules out of fear could never lead to open, authentic relationship. He doesn’t care about religion, because He wants pure hearts.

But Jesus wasn’t into rebellion, either. He chose the path of service and sacrifice, not because He had to or needed to. He chose His path because He loved you and me.

One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” [Matthew 22:35-40]

When I understand that no one else can define the “right” lane for me without my permission, I’m free to follow Jesus. When I stop worshipping—following or defying—human-created rules, I’m free to choose agape.

Agape means real freedom. It’s not about conformity or non-conformity, it’s about choosing surrender. I believe Jesus invites us to follow Him along the blue line, the line of love. I believe it’s the path for which we were created, the path to intimacy and authentic freedom.

I don’t follow His lead very well. I often try to define my own path and tell Him where we should go. I picture Him smiling as I struggle furiously to make my way work or explain why I really know what’s best.

I’m thankful for grace, for the knowledge that He forgives my futile rule-making and silly rebellion. I’m thankful that Jesus never leaves His path of unconditional love.

I’m thankful that He continually, gently invites me to rejoin Him.

Please leave a comment.

Still seeking a special gift?

Click here to learn about a creative devotional, a wonderful anthology for dog lovers (including a story about Monte) and a true tale of hope and new beginnings. Thanks for your support and for passing along this idea to your friends.

• Please use the icons below to share this article.
• Want to receive free updates? You can follow by RSS, or email updates.

You might also like:

Right Or Not Right?

Eyes On The Prize

Who’s In First?

What are your keys for building—or destroying—your relationships?

I ran across a list the other day, one psychologist’s list of relationship killers. No groundbreaking information, but it got me thinking about my relationship with Jesus.

It’s clear that relationship is God’s primary intention. Jesus’ central mission was to restore open, transparent interactions with God, others, and self. So this simple list prompted me to wonder what attitudes or self-talk might be getting in the way.

I’m convinced that whenever I feel distant from Him, I’m the one who moved. So here’s a list of five ways I might damage my ability to maintain a close, authentic relationship with God.

CRITICIZING

I spend a lot of time and effort telling God what He’s doing wrong. I don’t use those words, of course. Instead I say something like, “If I were God, I’d …” The implication’s clear—He’s getting it wrong. If only He’d do it my way…

Maybe I’d do better to say, “God, I don’t get it. From my perspective, this doesn’t make sense. But I want to trust that You know best—please help me to trust that you’re working for good in all circumstances.”

It’s also interesting that God doesn’t criticize. That may be a foreign notion to folks who’ve been taught to view God as a cosmic critic, but I think He’s much more interested in pointing the right direction than highlighting my errors. Certainly His word shows me when I’ve made a mistake, but God’s always about encouraging me to follow the correct path.

Because of mercy and grace, His focus is on future success rather than past failure.

The antidote to criticism is encouragement.  Rather than enumerating “wrongs,” God continually invites me to follow Jesus toward what’s right.

COMPLAINING

On the night before His horrible death, Jesus talked to His Father honestly about His fear. He clearly stated His desire to avoid the horrors He faced.

Jesus didn’t complain about a clearly unjust fate, and He didn’t expect God to meet His demands. But He also didn’t hesitate to tell God exactly what He wanted.

Maybe I’d experience a closer relationship to Jesus if I followed His example. Instead of complaining about perceived injustice and unfairness, perhaps I ought to tell God my desires in an attitude of trust and acceptance.

The antidote to complaining is asking directly for what I want without any sense of entitlement.

DEFENDING

I defend myself when I feel attacked. So if I become defensive toward God, I make Him the adversary—not a really good plan.

God never attacks. I DO have an enemy who seeks my destruction, and defensiveness places that enemy between me and God.

When I’m open and honest about my failures, I adopt an attitude of faith that places God between me and my true enemy.

That’s a better arrangement.

The antidote to defensiveness is listening to feedback and acknowledging my failures.

WITHDRAWING

God never moves, never changes, never pulls away. But when I listen to the enemy’s lies and believe that I’ll never be good enough, I tend to withdraw into feelings of guilt and shame.

Whenever I try to hide from God, I hear His quiet voice calling, “Rich, where are you?”

It’s silly, because He knows right where I am. He’s just waiting patiently for me to come home.

The antidote to withdrawal is entering through the always-open door of God’s love.

BLAMING

Blaming means deflecting responsibility for my choices. It’s an avoidance reaction to fear, and it reinforces an attitude of weakness.

I may blame God for the unwanted consequences of my actions; I may blame Him for the consequences of evil in a fallen world. In either case I’m lying to myself, attempting to make whatever I don’t like “God’s fault.” Blaming tries to make God the bad guy.

He’s not.

The antidote to blaming is responsibility, or response-ability. It’s exercising my personal power to choose and then facing the consequences of my choices.

These harmful attitudes deny the very core of what I know to be true about God:

• His very essence is agape—unconditional, sacrificial love.
• Everything He created is good.
• He works for good in all circumstances.
• He paid the price of His Son to restore me to relationship with Him.

I guess I should work a little harder on the antidotes.

Do any of these get in the way of a close relationship with God for you? Can you identify other attitudes that cause feelings of separation?

• Did you enjoy this article? Please leave a comment .
• Please use the icons below to share this article.
• Want to receive free updates? You can follow by RSS, or email updates.

Related articles:

What If I Just Let Go?

The God Of “Re”

I’d Really Like To (Excuses Part 1)

Have you ever pondered the sacrificial love represented in this familiar scripture? I have, and I don’t think I get it.

My small group is doing a study of the different names given to Jesus. This week’s topic was Son of God.

Several folks approached the study from a parent’s perspective and marveled that God was willing to sacrifice His own Son for our salvation. Their meditations reminded me of a quote from Tony Dungy, former NFL coach. Speaking at a Super Bowl breakfast in 2006 just a few weeks after his son James committed suicide, Dungy offered a powerful view into a parent’s love.

[Dungy] said he has received dozens of letters from people who heard him speak at his son’s funeral or at a Colts news conference on the peace and assurance he has in his son’s salvation and eternal destination. Dungy told of two people having received the gift of sight from his son’s donated corneas and of the youth to whom he has talked who are wrestling with similar problems as his son.

“If God had talked to me before James’ death and said his death would have helped all these people, it would have saved them and healed their sins, but I would have to take your son, I would have said no, I can’t do that.

“But God had the same choice 2,000 years ago with His Son, Jesus Christ, and it paved the way for you and me to have eternal life. That’s the benefit I got, that’s the benefit James got and that’s the benefit you can get if you accept Jesus into your heart today as your Savior.”

As imperfect humans, parental love may be as close as we get to complete, unconditional love. Most parents would quickly give their own lives to save their child, but like Dungy they cannot imagine offering their child’s life in place of another. But, as Dungy said, that’s exactly what God did. That was His plan. That’s how much He loves us.

I confess—I really don’t get it. I know the story, I understand the words. I’ve read a variety of theological analyses. I comprehend the process—in my head.

But at the heart level, I don’t understand that degree of agape. I don’t know how a Father could love me so much that He’d send His only Son to die, in spite of my continued personal failure, simply so I could spend eternity in His presence.

I can talk and speak and write about that kind of love, but I don’t really get it.

John 3:16 reminds me to stop making it so complicated. God loves me so completely that He allowed His Son to suffer a gruesome death in my place. As a result, I get to be reconciled to Him and live forever in love.

If you’ve messed up, you can claim a new beginning. If you’re lost in darkness, you can step out into light. Whatever mistakes you’ve made, whatever tragedy you’ve encountered—God wiped it all clean at the awesome price of His own precious Son.

I don’t have to understand it. I only have to accept it.

What are your thoughts as you allow the reality of John 3:16 to really sink in to your soul?

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. [John 3:16]

Did you enjoy this article? I encourage you to leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net.

Receive free updates via email:

Subscribe in a reader

Related articles:

Father And Son

Fifteen Lessons I Learned From My Dog

The Real Power Of Forgiveness

Agape.

That’s it. If you want to distill the entire notion of Christmas into a single, simple concept, it’s Agape.

Self-sacrificial, intentional love. That’s the message of Christmas.

I was thinking this morning about the idea of approaching Christmas intentionally (10 Ways You Can Enjoy An Intentional Christmas) and I had the idea that I could make choices this week based on two simple criteria.

• If it expands agape, do more of it.
• If it doesn’t, do less of it or skip it completely.

What can you choose that will bring agape into your Christmas celebration?

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross! [Philippians 2:5-8]

Did you enjoy this article? Please leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net.

Receive free updates via email:

Subscribe in a reader

Related articles:

10 Ways You Can Enjoy An Intentional Christmas

Agape

The virtues of men are of more consequence to society than their abilities, and for this reason, the heart should be cultivated with more diligence than the head. Noah Webster

What’s your idea of friendship? I recently heard a speaker talk about loving people with no strings attached.

His reference prompted me to examine my own relationships. How frequently am I a friend because I expect something in return? Even if it’s just acknowledgement, a pat on the back, a thank-you—do I tie my friendship to conditions?

This online community, our circle, is a good place to begin. I share here because I’m passionate about it. I’m not trying to make money or become famous (though I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to either of those outcomes!). I write Bouncing Back because I want to connect with like-minded folks who want to explore issues of life and faith.

So, do I expect anything in return? Have I attached strings, spoken or implied, to participation in the circle?

I like it when readers respond. I enjoy receiving comments and emails, and it’s gratifying when you take time to recommend something to others via a re-tweet or a Facebook post. The whole point is connection and two-way communication; that’s what makes the circle organic and fulfilling.

But do I expect those responses? Is it an implied condition of full participation in the circle?

I feel good when readers comment on the e-books and pass them along to others. I get a rush from interacting with audiences at speaking engagements. And, yes, I appreciate people buying, reading, and talking about Relentless Grace. If I didn’t want people to read and engage with this stuff, there wouldn’t be much point to writing it.

But am I disappointed when those things don’t happen? Am I sending my ideas out into the universe and subtly expecting some sort of return on my investment?

I hope not. I want my friendships, here and elsewhere, to flow from service without strings. I hope I’m asking, “How can I help?” without wondering, “What am I going to get in return?”

Knowing Rich as well as I do, I know my approach isn’t that pure. A thin line separates enjoying feedback and expecting it, and I’m sure I inadvertently cross that line too frequently.

Unconditional love is tough; perfectly unconditional love is probably beyond my capability. But the notion of agape is central to living a life of purpose and substance.

I need to constantly look for and eliminate those seemingly insignificant strings.

The greatest use of a life is to spend it for something that will outlast it.

What are the strings you unconsciously tie to your relationships?

Did you enjoy this article? Please leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net.

Subscribe to receive updates by Email

Related articles:

Agape

Who Are You?

What Do You Expect?

Why Do I Bother?

Substance Or Style

I am a follower of Jesus.Please leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net. 

I shouldn’t need to say that–my actions and words ought to convey such a foundational aspect of my identity. But I fear that’s often not what really happens.

You’ll notice that I didn’t identify myself as a “Christian.” The broader culture associates that term with such a broad range of attributes that it’s become nearly a meaningless description. Christian connotes political rhetoric, judgment, condemnation, and exclusion. Christians are known more for what they oppose (and for being angry about it) than for what they support.

When Jesus was asked about the most important attribute of His teaching He replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind … And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22)

Another time, Jesus tells us that it’s not enough to love the lovable. We’re actually supposed to love our enemies. (Matthew 5)

If I claim to follow Jesus, however imperfectly, then my direction is clear. I must strive to demonstrate love–agape–in every aspect of my life. And I must love everyone, even those for whom I don’t “feel love.”

It’s a simple teaching to understand, but a very difficult one to actually follow. That’s just one of the many blessings I’ve received through the story of Relentless Grace. Each time I recall or tell the story I’m reminded of people who extended friendship at a time when I wasn’t very friendly in return. Whenever I wonder why I ought to love someone who treats me unkindly, I think about the impact of self-sacrificing agape in my own experience and how those acts of kindness still ripple through my life.

Christianity is too often perceived as complex and contentious, a human-created mess of rules and judgments framed in anger and condemnation. In that sense, I don’t wish to identify myself as “Christian.”

But I do wish to follow Jesus. I’ll never accomplish that desire perfectly, but that’s another message of Relentless Grace. I’m not loved because of my accomplishments. I’m loved, by grace, because God chooses to see me through Jesus and chooses to love me despite my faults.

Following Jesus means striving to extend toward others the love that’s been extended toward me. Everything else is detail.

“Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (1 Corinthians 13:13)

Question: What’s your reaction to the idea of loving someone who treats you badly?

Subscribe to receive updates by Email

I recall the first time I encountered the idea that love is a decision rather than a feeling. I didn’t like the notion of removing the romance and mystery from “falling in love.”

As anyone who has ever experienced that fall will testify, I suspect there’s little chance of altering the delightful, unpredictable confusion of eros. And I’ve come to believe that there’s no black-and-white dividing line between the feeling and decision of love. My wife and I are “in love,” but I’m eternally grateful that my wife has decided to love me even on those frequent occasions when my behavior doesn’t advance her sentimental, romantic feelings toward me.

Agape certainly incorporates feelings as well as choices. When I decide to love another person unconditionally, I experience an entire range of feelings. But I notice that those feelings tend to be different, less chaotic, and possibly more mature than the wonderfully uncontrollable emotions of erotic love.

That’s an important distinction when describing the sort of love demonstrated by the characters of Relentless Grace. Agape doesn’t always feel good, especially in the short term. When we decide to love others self-sacrificially, we will inevitably encounter folks who return our kindness with bitterness. That’s clearly the experience of the amazing characters in my story.

Agape is more of a character trait than a feeling. We choose to love, just as we choose to be honest or truthful, because it’s the right thing to do. These characters loved an unlovable person with no expectation that their kindness would be reciprocated, without any certainty that I’d ever understand or respond to their actions.

We choose to drop a pebble into the pond and allow its impact to ripple away from us. Agape trusts that the cumulative effects of those small ripples impact the world in powerful, positive ways, even when we often don’t see the eventual results. Agape doesn’t seek to fix people. It simply accepts them wherever they are.

Agape is an act of wisdom, courage, and maturity that seeks something greater than personal satisfaction. I suspect it’s the ultimate manifestation of the abundant life for which we were created.

“Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (1 Corinthians 13:13)

Question: What are your thoughts about love as a character trait?

 Please leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net. 

Subscribe to receive updates by Email

Our culture is confused about love.

Certainly there’s no shortage of references to the concept. We sing about love, read about love, and dream about love. We search for it (often in all the wrong places), celebrate when we find it, and grieve when we lose it. One of the biggest holidays of the year commemorates our apparent obsession with love. Christmas centers on toys and Easter prompts new clothing, but Valentine’s Day is all about love–and chocolate, or possibly a love of chocolate.

Maybe that’s the problem–we use the word so much that it’s almost become meaningless. Someone once said that the difference between a friend and a lover is that when a friend says, “I love you,” you understand precisely what he means. I love chocolate, I love my wife, and I love the Yankees, not necessarily in that order and hopefully not in the same way.

The ancient Greeks used three different words that we translate as “love.” Eros connoted erotic love, the wonderfully confusing, ooey-gooey feeling that seems to appear and vanish with the wind. Philos described familial love. The distinction clarifies how I love my brother, though I’m still not sure where chocolate fits.

But the word used in the Bible for “love” is agape. This depicts self-sacrificial love, the kind of love that’s a choice rather than a feeling or an obligation.  When I claim that Relentless Grace is about LOVE, this is the sort of love I’m describing.

Agape is the love that radiates outward from its source. As anyone who’s ever “been in love” knows, eros contains no organized pattern. Erotic love is a chaotic, intense crashing of waves that toss us in a dozen directions simultaneously. Philos is no less confusing, because families include a variety of confusing, conflicting dynamics. We love our families, but few of us would characterize them as a neatly organized series of concentric circles.

Agape is love born of a conscious decision to care for another. Agape involves giving, not receiving. Agape tosses a stone into the pond without knowing with absolute certainty where the ripples will travel. Agape is a way of living, a faith that this sort of love always works for eventual good.

Relentless Grace is a story of agape. The characters loved an unloveable person; their unselfish kindness still ripples across the surface of my life.

“Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (1 Corinthians 13:13)

Question: What are your thoughts about the distinction between love as a feeling and love as a choice?

Did you enjoy this article? Please leave a comment, visit my website, and/or send me an email at rich@richdixon.net.

Receive free updates via email:

Subscribe in a reader