“Oh, I’m not too bad. I’m taking a few classes, working two jobs, volunteering at church and on the side I’m writing a novel. I hardly sleep and practically live on coffee, but it’s great. What have you been up to?”

“Me? Just work I guess.”

“That must be nice.” [thinks: slacker]

Have you ever had that conversation? I have many times, and over the years I have found myself playing both roles.

We take this sort of talk for granted, but if we step back and get a bit of perspective, it is a fascinating social construct with massive—and frightening—implications.

Those short conversations give us a glimpse of the way people view the world, because it is often the little day to day practices that reveal our deepest values.

You can see it play out every Monday at the office, and every Sunday in church lobbies around the world. People who have not seen each other in a few days or weeks start to catch up, and the talk quickly turns toward comparing notes on how terribly busy we all are. Volunteer positions, family commitments and work loads are listed, as each of us demonstrates just how much we are trying to juggle.

The sad thing is, we are quite proud of it.

And not very secretly proud either.

Oh sure, we complain about how we have not had a real day off in weeks, or how much work it all is. But somehow all our complaining sounds rather like bragging. It’s just backhanded bragging, like complaining that you didn’t expect learning Spanish to be so much work after you had such high scores in French, German and fifth-century Latin.

You can hear it in the voices of those recounting their busy schedules, and the guilt with which many of us have learned to speak of having free time. We’ve bought into the gospel of busyness. We’ve accepted the narrative we are constantly sold by our society—that our value rests in what we can produce, that we are loved for what we can accomplish. Full calendars become a badge of honor.

Lee, a pastor I knew quite well, was a perfect example. The only pastor at a small rural church, he worked constantly. In his mind, the success or failure of the church was on his shoulders, completely dependent on his level of activity. Between studying, hospital visits, preaching and leading worship on Sunday, teaching a few additional times each week and being constantly on call for everyone in his church, he hardly had a free moment all week. And you could tell. He was chronically tired and often dealt with long periods of discouragement. But he loved his church, he wanted to do right by them and the only way he could see to be a “successful” pastor was to work even harder despite his declining physical and emotional health. Because to Lee, like so many of us, work had become the way he measured his value.

So we push ourselves harder and harder. We sleep less, we work more and we do indeed accomplish a great deal.

But in the process we begin to forget how to sit,

and think,

and breathe,

and pray,

and read for pleasure,

and have a real conversation with a friend, or family member or spouse

and savor a drink for its flavors and complexities, not its ability to chemically induce either wakefulness or sleep.

Here’s the dirty little secret of the gospel of busyness: It promises us a full and satisfying life, but, in the end, it makes our lives emptier. It uses us for what we can contribute, and in the process we live less, feel less, even love less.

Instead of a life filled with the satisfaction of endless accomplishments, we’ve gotten ourselves a generation of chronic exhaustion, absent workaholic parents and kids who have been not-so-subtly taught that the only way to earn the attention and love of others is with grades, paychecks or championships.

But your value is not determined by what you produce. Your loveliness is not based on what you accomplish or how full your calendar is.

Work is good—it’s part of the way God designed His image-bearers—but it is not the only thing we were made for. He created us to have a balance in life, going so far as to incorporate a cycle of work and rest into the very fabric of the created order. There is a time for work in that cycle, but there is also a time for rest and community and quiet contemplation.

A life of constant overcommitment is not a sign of success, or something to be bragged about. It is a sign of imbalance, a sign we have put our faith in the gospel of busyness instead of in a God who dares us to trust Him and be willing to rest.

There is hope for the overcommitted, though; we don’t have to live this way. We can balance good hard work with rest and play; in fact we were created to live in that balance. And the sooner we realize that, the sooner we can all stop playing the game of bragging that we are so very busy.

So the next time you catch up with a friend, refrain from contributing to the cycle. Refuse to brag about busyness as if it were a virtue, refuse to act like making time to rest is a mark of shame. If the very God who designed us thought that balancing work with rest was worthwhile, perhaps we should give it a try.

Help me to be firm without being immovable.

Help me to take risks without being reckless.

Help me to be sensitive without being hyper-sensitive.

Help me to be confident without being arrogant.

Help me to be sure without thinking I can never be wrong.

Help me to empower others without abdicating my responsibilities.

Help me to be excellent without thinking I need to do it all myself.

Help me to take responsibility without taking ownership.

Help me to be wise without thinking I am wiser than anyone else.

Help me to first give the benefit of the doubt without prejudice that come from stereotyping.

Help me to always show grace and understanding without criticism or judgment.

Help me to listen and understand without being naïve.

Help me to never speak negatively about others without first speaking to them.

Help me to serve with other leaders without comparing the results of my work to theirs.

Help me to be an example without the motive of being noticed as an example.

Help me to shut my mouth so I can be frustrated without gossip and slander.

Help me with Your perspective because there is always one I don’t see.

Help me to know what you expect of me so I can care less about the expectations of others.

Help me to serve while knowing I will be often treated like a servant.

Help me to always be open to and learn from criticism regardless of the motive of the one giving it.  

Help me to not subtly influence people to think better of me by influencing what they think of someone else.  

Help me to handle “success” with humility and “failure” with grace and determination.

 Most of all…so I can be this kind of servant…empower me to seek Your face more and to more reflect Your image to a world so desperate to see it.

Over this past weekend…I had cause to look at 2 Cor. 3:16-18. Just as Jesus summerized all of the laws of the Prophets with, “Love the Lord your God…and Love your neighbor (Matt 22)” Paul makes all of spiritual things bonehead simple for those of us that need the basics.

“…whenever someone turns to the Lord the veil is taken away…so all of us who have had that veil removed can see and reflect the glory of the Lord…and the Lord makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image.”

It’s just that simple…to see and to reflect the Glory of the Lord. To get in His face and then reflect that face. To experience His love and then to demonstrate that love. To know Him and make Him known. Over and over to see and reflect.

If you are ever wondering around in your faith…looking for the way in which your religion or denomination or church would have you live out the “extra stuff”…simply get into His presence and then just get on with life in whatever way you feel most led. Be consumed not with how to appropriate your religion…be consumed with loving Jesus and then do whatever your spirit lead you to do.  

The world doesn’t need more of religion…the world needs more of the Church…but only when the Church has more of Jesus.

Apparently…many will get there one day and say… “Wait a minute…we preached in your name…we cast out demons in your name…and we preformed miracles in your name.” But He will reply with… “I never knew you.”

It’s so easy to confuse work for God with walking with God. Its so tempting to seek the work of His hands and not the glory of His face. I’m guilty of the dangerous subtlety of paying attention to the work of God while ignoring Him.

The fear that one day He will look at me and say, “Sorry…what’s your name again?” drives me to my knee in the pursuit of intimacy with Him. I guess that is the most healthy fear possible.

I love what these eastern academics say was the purpose of their pilgrimage. Even though their very occupation would suggest that the reason they headed west was to study the reason for the strangely bright star, they state that their mission was to worship him. For those who make their living out of thinking, the reason for this trip was to worship. They didn’t come to understand, but to worship. The Message states it this way, “We’re on a pilgrimage to worship him.”

What a great statement of life’s mission. We are on a pilgrimage to worship him. The reality of Jesus has been studied long before and long after he was here. People still try to understand who he was, examine that words he spoke, ponder if he was more than a wise man or religious figure. He has been studied, examined, and scrutinized.  His words have been parsed, interpreted, contextualized, and applied. However, he was really meant to be worshiped. This life is meant to be a pilgrimage of worship.

With our songs, prayers, art, time and treasure we are on a pilgrimage to worship him. With our actions and lifestyle we are a pilgrimage to worship him. Whether we dig ditches, drive a taxi, or pour concrete we are a pilgrimage to worship him. Whether we manage people, teach university students or perform brain surgery, we are on a pilgrimage to worship him. Waking up each day on this pilgrimage brings purpose to everything we put our hands and hearts to.  

Any time we encounter a persuasive and charismatic leader who has applied scripture (to their context) in a way that looks like success, the first thing we do is try to copy their extra-biblical actions in the same way they did. Out of a very right motive to be effective, we very wrongly make a formula out of our experiences or that of others. And the moment we do that, we assume the role of the Holy Spirit. When something “works” for us, we then presume to prescribe how much money people should give, how people should use their time, how people should pray or worship, who people should spend their time with, how to raise their children and the list could go on and on. You can smell a Pharisee a mile away by the stench of constant criticism on their lips.   

The problem goes waaayyy back. Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, “The teachers of religious law and the Pharisees are the official interpreters of the law of Moses. So practice and obey whatever they tell you, but don’t follow their example. For they don’t practice what they teach. They crush people with unbearable religious demands and never lift a finger to ease the burden. (Matt 23)

Do we as leaders trust the power of the Holy Spirit in the lives of other followers? Do I really think that He really needs me to change the hearts of people who are not living the way I think they should live? Am I that full of pride that I think I can talk or convince people to change? Am I that self-centered that I don’t assume that the Holy Spirit is working in people on issues that He wants to change rather than behavior that I think they should change? Wouldn’t I be a lot more free and void of unnecessary stress if I really trusted that the Holy Spirit is doing a fine job of changing people without my help in my time?

Unfortunately for me…and those around me…I relate a whole lot more to the religious leaders than the woman at the well; to that oldest son instead of the prodigal. I am terrified at the thought, after a career of “ministry”, to one day hear, “I never knew you.” (Matt 7) I suppose that it’s a good fear.

I grew up in a religious sub-culture that taught me that I would be noted as “Christian” because of what I didn’t participate in. If I didn’t swear, smoke, or drink and tried really hard to act as nice as possible, I would be “letting my little light shine”. The goal seemed to be getting through life, or at least my teen years, as “sinless” as possible. The result? I’m still a recovering Pharisee.

So now… 20 years later what is it that I now think makes a follower of Christ different from other nice, law-abiding citizens? Here it is! Get ready for it!

Love.

Yup…love…that’s it. Strikingly and seemingly not so spiritually profound. To be clear, I’m not talking about a “run of the mill” kind of love. Anyone with a heartbeat can love; and I would surmise that EVERY religion espouses “love” as a hallmark of what they preach and teach in some way. So then…why would I say that love is what separates authentic Christ-followers from everyone else?

Extra-ordinary love produces extra-ordinary love-ers. Even within the limits of my ability to comprehend and describe, extravagant, non-reciprocated and truly unconditional mercy is not the kind of  common “love” I’m referring to. Parents love their children, husbands love their wives, people can even “love” their jobs, holidays, coffee and ice-cream. We “love” all of these because of what we receive from them. And while the limits of our common love can be deep and wide (as for our children), at some point, once we stop receiving long enough, we will stop loving. God loves completely different to this; for as long as I draw breath I will never be able to understand why or how. I can only do my best to experience this love and thereby dispense this love. I can only hope that the more I experience it, the more I can live it. The more I try to find words to type to explain or express this love, the less I find myself typing.

So…when it comes to the matter of how I am different from other nice people the simple answer becomes…not so simple. People will know I am His when I love like Him. Not perfectly of course, but hopefully more and more like Him. The more my life and my love isn’t conditional upon what I receive from people, the more I extend mercy to those who let me down again, the more my acts of service are not done to elicit a similar response, the more I give without the expectation of even feeling fulfilled by the giving, the more I serve knowing I will not be served in return, the more I spend myself on those who are the least to me, the more I will give off the fragrance that followed Jesus.          

Do you really want to know if you are Christ-like? Take this little test and honestly evaluate if your Christ-likeness is anything more than just trying to be as nice as you can be. Like many, we’ve got 1 Cor 13 hanging on the wall in our bathroom as a constant examination of my heart. I’m sure you may have heard this before, but substitute your name for the word “love” in the familiar passage of scripture. _____ is patient and kind. _____ is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. _____ does not demand his/her own way. _____ is not irritable, and keeps no record of being wronged. _____ does not rejoice about injustice, but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. _____ never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.

Better yet…ask your closest friends, spouse or children how you fare against this description of the greatest One who ever loved.

Why is that?

Is it that it’s easier to see past the weaknesses, differences, and annoyances of people we don’t know and therefore able to see their need, and their vulnerability? Ask anyone to put a gift basket together for a family in need in a country we have never been too and there are all too eager to be compelled by compassion. But ask someone to write an encouragement card or empty the garbage of a co-worker that seems to constantly find ways annoy you, and it takes a herculean effort to die to self on the smallest of opportunities to someone you work with everyday. I am all too aware of my own propensity to be more patient with people I know less…and I so wish I was different.

How different would our immediate relationships be at work, home, church, community if we gave each other the same grace we give to someone we don’t know? How different would my life be if I really loved those around me unconditionally…like I loved the small orphaned baby I met today?  How different would my workplace be if I got to know the stories, the insecurities, and reasons my colleagues were they way they were? How different would our relationships be if we chose to give the benefit of the doubt every time there was an opportunity to prejudge actions and motives? Are we so afraid of being taken advantage of or losing control of a situation that we keep people in the categorized boxes we have made for them?  Are we possibly so concerned about what people think of us that we do what we can to control perceptions or never be wrong? Why is it that we so often feel emotionally unsafe with the people we are the closest too?

It would make more sense that as our familiarity in relationships grow so would our ability to extend grace and patience. It would seem right that those who know us the best get the best of us. The more we know someone, the greater the responsibility we should feel to invest in and protect those relationships.

It would seem that the early church had the same propensity for gracelessness when Paul wrote: “Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves, you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you… Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony.” (Colossians 3:12-14)

It was quite a discovery when Copernicus realized that we (those who occupy the Earth) were not the center of the universe. I know that I so often forget about this little scientific fact…and place myself,  my views, my perspective, my priorities at the core of my (and everyone else’s) reality. One of the many consequences of our over individualized society is the affinity to have the world to see the world through my lenses and filters…because after all…I am the most normal and right person I know.

But then Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, disorients me in the most refreshing way possible. “Therefore I, a prisoner for serving the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of your calling, for you have been called by God. Always be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowances for each other’s faults because of your love. Make every effort to keep yourselves united in the Spirit, binding yourself together with peace.” Paul goes on to talk about all of the various gifts he’s given to the Church, pointing out that a humility and a gracious permission to be imperfect keeps us unified in our God given differences.

We face enough opposition from the unseen world that spending time trying to change people for my benefit is such a waste of emotional and spiritual energy. Families, workplaces, churches, basically anywhere where there is more than me puts me on a crash course with…myself. Being in Kenya, where community is so much more valuable than any one person, enables me to hear Paul better than when I am at home.

Again, the purpose of writing the book is to expand the message of our vision and mobilize more churches and groups into international compassion. If you are interested in buying the book, you can call our office to order a copy. While the book is now available for sale through channels such as Blessings, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, etc, for the initial release, Hungry For Life is making it available through our office. HFL purchased an initial print run and it would be helpful if you purchased them from our office. Once this run has been sold, we will recommend people buy it through Blessings Christian Marketplace, online or in their stores.

Here are the details if you’re interested in getting a hold of a copy:
Cost: $20 (includes taxes)
Shipping: You can either pick one up from our office in Chilliwack or we can mail you one for $4.
Purchasing: You can either just stop by if you’re in the Chilliwack area or call our office and dial reception at 604-703-0223 ext 107 to order by phone.
Payment Options: Visa, MasterCard, Cheque, or of course Cash.