It’s been over a decade, but I still remember one particular trip to my optometrist. I sat in the waiting room, flipping through outdated magazines. Across the room from me sat a teenager with special needs and an older man who appeared to be his grandfather. The younger man was engrossed in a puzzle book, Sudoku puzzles to be exact. He would work on a puzzle, solve it, turn the page and begin again. It was clear that he enjoyed the activity. He was well into the book and moving quickly through the puzzles, when something changed. A clear sense of discomfort registered in his eyes and his body tensed. He rubbed his forehead and focused again on the page in front of him. The book’s next puzzle didn’t operate by the same rules that the others had. What had just moments before brought him comfort was now a source of stress. The confidence he enjoyed had disappeared into self-doubt. I wasn’t the only one to notice this change, his grandfather recognized that something was amiss and leaned over to glance at the puzzle his grandson was working on. When he realized that this young man that he loved was stumped, he began to slowly and patiently explain how the new puzzle worked. The boy didn’t understand at first, the panic hadn’t worn off and was affecting his ability to think clearly. But as the grandfather continued to calmly talk through the problem, the young man’s body relaxed. The numbers began to connect and a comprehending smile stretched across his face.

Sitting there that day, I related immediately to the teenage boy. I had developed tactics to deal with the predictable challenges of life that allowed me to feel comfortable. But life isn’t always predictable. When old answers no longer satisfy new questions, doubt creeps in. In those moments I’m not just left with a difficult puzzle to solve, but with questions about my ability to solve it. It’s in those moments that God slowly and patiently speaks to my heart, walking me through the unfamiliar challenge.  His patience overcomes my panic and I’m able to face the problem in front of me.

Now, ten years later, I also relate to the grandfather. I aspire to be as patient and relational as he was that day. When my young son stumbles into a problem that feels bigger than he is, my first instinct is to plough the path clear ahead of him. Perhaps what he needs most isn’t always a clear path, but a patient guide willing to walk the path with him until things make sense again.

That’s what God does for us. He doesn’t normally wipe away all of our problems with one large swipe of his arm. Rather, he joins us, step by step, as we face new challenges and develop strength and wisdom we hadn’t known before. Like everyone else, I enjoy it when I have the right answers and know the best path forward, but when answers aren’t forthcoming and the path is hidden from sight, I am grateful that I am loved by a God that is bigger my understanding. Someone who walks with me, patiently expanding my horizons, even when it’s uncomfortable.

The post Unsolvable Problems and the Presence of God first appeared on Michael Ramsey.

A groan went up from the class. It was time for the second major test of the semester, and our professor repeated what she had said prior to the first exam. “You are responsible for the required reading, and that includes all illustrations, their descriptions, and all footnotes.” That meant that every place where ink covered the paper in the past 200 pages was fair game. There was no way out, we were responsible for it all.

We can be tempted to hate responsibility at times. It feels like a weight around our neck. It’s scary. We feel cornered and often look for a loophole or way out of having an outcome depend fully on us. Responsibility also reminds us that we are connected to others, and that what we do matters to more than just us. That can be a frightening thought as well.

So, why do we hate responsibility so much? Why do we spend so much energy trying to avoid it at times?

Being responsible means that we can’t blame others

When we are responsible for something and things go wrong, we have no one to blame but ourselves. It doesn’t feel good to be wrong. That’s why it’s so tempting to blame others when things go poorly. Blaming is toxic. It breaks down trust in relationships, and it rarely solves the original problem. It’s easy to blame others though, especially when they have failed or been part of the problem. Being responsible means I own my mess without needing to make you own yours. We choose to blame no one but ourselves, and that’s not always fun.

Being responsible means that we can fail

Things don’t always work. Plans fall through. Even if we do our best, things can go wrong. Taking responsibility for a project or assignment means that I may fail at that project or assignment. One of the reasons that many of us avoid stepping up to new challenges is our fear of failure. The thing to remember is that while we may fail that doesn’t mean that we are failures. In fact, most of the great achievements in life come on the heels of many previous failed attempts. Who we are is bigger than what we do. When we understand that failure isn’t terminal, we are set free to learn from it and try again.

Being responsible means that we can let others down

One part of responsibility that scares many of us is the thought of letting other people down. We don’t want to cause pain to others or inconvenience them. So, we avoid situations where we have the power to do that. Avoiding the possibility of failure however, also precludes the possibility of success. We can’t make a difference in the lives of others without the risk of damage. But the risk is worth it, because the difference you can make is very real and much needed.

May you learn and know that you were created to be responsible, and that you can be the difference that someone desperately needs in their life.

The post Why We Hate Responsibility first appeared on Michael Ramsey.

“Opposition inflames the enthusiast, never converts him.”

-Johann Fredrick Von Schiller

Disagreement is a common everyday experience. We all come from different backgrounds and have had different experiences. We have talked to different people and visited different places. We were raised by people with their own unique beliefs and each teacher we’ve ever had came with their own unique set of beliefs and opinions. So, of course we disagree. How could we not? What is not as clear is why we are so tempted to dislike the people with whom we disagree.

We try to keep the hatred at bay. We try to keep our disagreements centered on issues, but our hatred shows itself when we stop attacking arguments and start attacking people. The exchange stops being, “your argument isn’t logical or factual” and becomes “what sort of person could believe that?!”. Why does this happen?

Everything starts with how we understand ourselves. We come to believe that our opinions aren’t just something we hold, but something that defines us. So, people who disagree with us aren’t just proving us wrong, they are proving us worthless. We feel that our very identity is under attack, so we lash out. Since we feel our person has been attacked, we feel justified in attacking or hating the other person in response.

How can we escape this toxic cycle?

Organizational psychologist Adam Grant offers a different way to view disagreements. He writes, “Disagreement often comes across as disrespect, but it can be a sign of respect. When someone argues with you, take it as a cue that they value your viewpoint. If your opinion didn’t matter to them, they wouldn’t bother to try to change it.” This sort of mindset is indeed helpful, but a lasting solution needs to go deeper.

Our only hope is to have our identity rooted in something deeper than the opinions we hold. If we believe that our value is larger than our opinions, we will feel less threatened when others disagree with us. This will allow us to disagree in good faith, avoiding ad hominem arguments, while respecting those we debate against.  It will also allow us to handle the insults and attacks of insecure people who need to feel that they have won an argument to feel good about themselves.

The process of solidifying your identity deserves more space than I can give it here. A general principle to consider is that our lives are only as stable as what we ground our identity in. If we define ourselves by our job, for instance, getting fired isn’t just discouraging, it’s crushing.

I’ll save further talk about identity for other posts, but if you want to learn more, I encourage you to check out my good friend, Neil McLamb’s website at the link below. He and his wife Melissa do a wonderful job discussing identity and related issues.

So, how do we stop hating those we disagree with? We must learn that our value runs deeper than our opinions or positions. You are more. Losing an argument isn’t fun, but losing yourself is debilitating.

May you learn to know and trust that you are more than the arguments you make and opinions you currently hold!

Grace and peace.

Neil and Melissa’s website: http://safecandc.com

The post Why We Hate Those Who Disagree With Us first appeared on Michael Ramsey.

Lent is a time of reflection, specifically a time to examine our limitations, our brokenness, and our failings. Its purpose isn’t to create shame or drive us to depression, but to awaken us to reality, and to the all-encompassing good news of Easter and God’s good grace. An important thought to consider during Lent is our finitude. Our limits. Where we start and where we stop.

Our culture loves the idea of transcending our limitations. It’s really inspirational. Why run 3 miles when you can run 4? Why work until 5pm when you can work to 7pm and get that much more done? Why give 100%, why not give 110%? Pushing ourselves farther than we believe possible can be very helpful. It reminds us that we are capable of more than we normally assume. It allows us to grow and to dream new and bigger dreams. There are boundaries, however, that we cannot overcome.

24 hours.

That’s how much time you get in a day. Not 25 hours, not even 24 hours and 2 minutes. No matter how hard your work or how efficient you are, you are limited to 24 hours each day. Time management skills will only help you do exactly that, manage the time you have. You can’t add minutes to your day.

Sleep.

You may be one of those people who only needs 4 hours of sleep a night. (If so, I’m envious). You may need 7 or 8 hours to avoid looking and sounding like a zombie. Whatever that number is, and research offers a variety of answers concerning that, you can’t forego sleep. Everybody needs it, no exceptions. If you rob yourself consistently enough, you will begin to suffer mental and physical breakdown.

Money.

Most everyone has a budget, and we all have financial limits. You may spend all of the money you make and borrow more, but eventually people will stop lending you money. There are limits.

As much as we hate to admit it, we all have limits, the ones mentioned here and many more.  Acceptance and appreciation of our limits is a valuable lenten meditation. As much as we hate to hear it, there are things we can’t do. We are finite. God alone is infinite.

Here are some questions to consider during this season of Lent:

Are you trying to be limitless in order to convince yourself that you can control more in life than you can actually control?

How can you limitations improve your relationship with God?

May this Lenten Season strengthen you as it leads you to the unspeakable joy of Easter.

The post Limitations For Lent first appeared on Michael Ramsey.

My first Ash Wednesday experience came via drive-thru. God bless the Presbyterians.

It had been a long week. My nephew and I had gone to fill a prescription. I had hoped to participated in an Ash Wednesday service this year, but circumstances had made it impossible. Winding back through downtown we passed by a local Presbyterian church. They had a tent set up outside manned by two elders administering ashes for Ash Wednesday. I was grateful for their creativity and pulled in. To hear the words as the ashes were applied to our foreheads, “from dust we were formed and to dust we shall return” was humbling. My wife had recently fallen and fractured a vertebra in her back, leaving her unable to get out of bed or move around on her own. She was in constant pain, and two overnight trips to the ER hadn’t seemed to help. Add to that my two-year old and I passing a nasty stomach virus back and forth between us and our family was spent. We had gone from a normal active life to scratching to get through each day. Mankind is fragile indeed.

Lent is a time to remember our fragility, to own the fact that we are mere seconds away from being sick, injured, or panicked. We accept that even though we feel strong enough to do everything, we can quickly become so weak that we are unable to do anything. These thoughts can drive us to God. They humble us so that we can become willing to receive mercy and care from Him. For my family, that care came through our church family and friends. They rallied to bring meals, cards, and calls. We were grateful for their generosity. We are generally more comfortable on the giving end of things, but sickness and injuries had reminded us that we all need to receive from time to time.

Thoughts of our fragility are hard to take, and we are not called to carry them every day. To obsess constantly over our fragile bodies and delicate minds would create anxiety and paralyze us emotionally. Lent is a time of introspection, but that time is limited. We must remember that the fragility of the crucifixion gives way to the joy of Easter. Yes we are fragile, but our needs are met by a loving and giving Savior. He does not look down on our weakness, but joyfully gives. Our fragility is a means of receiving good things from God. Jesus once taught his disciples, “those who are well have no need of a physician.” (Mark 2:17) Likewise, those who are always strong have no need of the care and mercy God has to offer. So, we embrace our fragility not in despair, but in hope. In hope that in our weakness, God is strong, and that as we regain our strength we can use it for the benefit of others.

The post Reflections For Lent 2019 first appeared on Michael Ramsey.

The definition of determinism is that all events, including human action, are ultimately determined by causes external to the will. Christian determinism and Calvinist schools of thought would say that the external cause is God. While I disagree with some of the tenets of this philosophy, I will have to admit that I have felt pulled against my will at times in life. More specifically, I feel that I have been predestined to stop at every bakery that crosses my path. I feel pulled into them. It can’t be healthy, but who can fight predestination?

One of the things I love about bakeries is that they sell themselves. All you have to do is walk in and you are engaged. The incredible smell of fresh baked breads and pastries pulls you forward, inviting you to have a closer look. It’s a hard call to resist.

Imagine then, how absurd it would be for the baker to be standing outside of his shop handing out pamphlets about the 5 laws of quality scones. What would it be like if the baker lectured you concerning the proper temperatures needed to make cookies both crispy and chewy at the same time? What if the baker said that you couldn’t enter his bakery until you fully understood the proper ratio of flour to eggs for various sizes of sponge cake? It wouldn’t be very enticing. In fact, it would conceal the beauty of the product being offered.

Yet, that is what many of us have been taught to do as  Christians. We dive into the minutia of how to interpret the Bible. We talk about how the end of time will end. We haggle over our stances on marriage, politics, and a thousand other things. Often, we make others feel that they need to fully understand and agree with us to have a place in our lives.

Paul wrote to the church in Corinth, “For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing” (2 Corinthians 2:15). Our lives, words, and actions are to be inviting to those around us, an aroma that awakens them to something good that they weren’t expecting. The way we relate to others shouldn’t be abrasive and demanding but marked with love and grace. While it’s good for the baker to understand the intricacies of his profession, it is not necessary to fully understand all the ingredients that come together to make a doughnut to be able to enjoy it. Demanding intellectual assent to a set of doctrines from people before they have had the opportunity to enjoy God is awkward and off-putting. It’s hard to love facts about God until you’ve loved God.  Love, forgiveness, and mercy are enticing aromas. They are not a strategy to reach others, just a natural consequence of being loved by God. When we love others authentically with no agenda, when we forgive those who have wronged us rather than seeking to get even, our lives become a scent of something other-worldly, and it’s more powerful that than a thousand well placed words.

The post An Inviting Life first appeared on Michael Ramsey.

While studying at seminary, I attended a local church. I enrolled in an evangelism class they offered that would study a curriculum and then go door to door in surrounding neighborhoods. The thought of it terrified me. I am an introvert by nature, and the idea of going to a stranger’s home unannounced seemed incredibly difficult. At that time however, I felt that spiritual growth involved doing difficult things, so I joined the class.

We were given a large green binder, packed with possible scenarios and sample conversations that we could practice. There were cards with verses on them to memorize and homework to complete each week. Once we had mastered the material, we would meet weekly for a semester, split in groups of three or four and evangelize the community.

There was one main question that we were to work toward in our conversations:“One day, long from now, when you die, if you were to meet God and He were to ask you, ‘why should I let you into my heaven?’ what would you answer?” It was designed to bring the conversation to a point of decision. Was this person a Christian? Did they think they were a Christian, but were mistaken? I knew the answer we were looking for because I had the large green binder, and we were trained to address any answer that didn’t fit what the binder said we should expect. Years removed from those door-to-door days, I have been thinking more about that question and how it must have sounded to the unsuspecting soccer moms and retirees we encountered.

Why should I let you into my heaven?

If God were to meet me after death and ask me that question, I think I would be taken aback. After all, it doesn’t really fit the way that God has related to me throughout my life. Jesus instructed his followers to refer to God as “our” Father.  My experience with God has been with a Father who welcomed me in spite of my poor answers and unworthy behavior. He welcomed prayers from me when my motives for praying were flawed. He welcomed my efforts to serve others, even though they were sporadic and often self-serving. The question we were taught to ask looked for a rational, logical answer to a question that has little to do with reason and logic. It would be like summarizing our life together by asking my daughter, “and why should I include you in my will?”. The question isn’t relational or familial. It’s more like a question you would field when interviewing for a new job, rather than when talking with your Father.

None of the biblical writers gave us a clear list of the order of events we should expect after dying. My thoughts about what it will be like are only a guess, like everyone else. I imagine that Peter will be there to announce those arriving in the afterlife. “Ok, this is Michael Ramsey, the one from North Carolina”. At which point, God will say, “oh yes, we’ve been friends for quite a while, in fact, he’s like a son to me. Welcome home.” At this point, I feel sure I will feel ashamed at how poor a friend I’d actually been. Wondering how I could be welcomed after somehow managing to resemble both the prodigal son and the legalistic older brother from Jesus’ famous story. God will then talk about the weak and overlooked people that I’ve managed to help along the way. But I’ll know deep in my heart that I’m not worthy of any compliments or congratulations. I will know that I am there for one reason and one reason only: God’s good grace.

I’m not sure if any of our door to door efforts years ago helped anyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. God always seems to produce something good out of my poor and clumsy efforts. I hope that those people have found the same welcoming, grace-filled God that I know. He is bigger than our incomplete answers and broken obedience. He patience seems to know no bounds. If they have met that God then I know that they are looking forward to meeting him face to face just as I am, not because of our worthiness. I’m not worthy, no one is.  But because of His grace and love.

The post Seeking Answers and Finding Relationship first appeared on Michael Ramsey.

Life is filled with ups and downs. There is always a new mountain to climb or a new challenge to face. However, when we feel that we’ve finally come to a puzzle too complex for us to solve, we panic and start to search. We search for new skills to develop. We look for new insight. We read books. We talk to friends and people we admire. This is oftentimes a good instinct. Seeking new solutions to old problems can be very beneficial. There are times however, when new skills aren’t the answer.

One letter collected together with others in the New Testament is known simply as The Letter To The Hebrews. It’s unknown author wrote to Christians facing persecution and intense adversity. In the latter portion of the letter he wrote a phrase that is often overlooked due to its simplicity, but its relevance makes it especially apropos today. The author pointed out to his readers, “for you have need of endurance…”(Hebrews 10:36).

Sometimes in life, you are doing the things you need to do. You are not off course, even though it may feel like it. There isn’t a new solution or approach that will wrap everything up in a nice neat package. Rather than wasting energy running around seeking new answers, we most need to endure. Stick to the course. Trust in the direction that we are going.

Endurance doesn’t call for making a new decision, just reaffirming one we have already made. When things don’t come together as quickly as we like, we start to get nervous. We felt sure that we needed to start this business, or that this relationship was a healthy one. But when the results we are hoping for are delayed, we are tempted to change course. Sometimes a course change is necessary, but more often endurance is called for.  Henry Ford offered, “Unless you have courage, a courage that keeps you going, always going, no matter what happens, there is no certainty of success. It is really an endurance race.”

Endurance isn’t easy but it’s crucial to a life well-lived. May you know when to change and when to endure, and may you find strength in the waiting.

The post Changing Direction Isn’t Always The Answer first appeared on Michael Ramsey.

The final post in this series focuses on the question of how ministers are able to get their congregations and people watching on TV to give enough money to buy jets and million-dollar homes for the minister. To understand the answer to that question, we have to understand a shift that has happened in many churches over the past 200 years.

The question of what a Christian is, or how someone becomes a Christian has been much debated throughout the life of the church. Is it marked by belonging to a church and being active in membership? Is it defined by the rules that one follows? Does it begin at baptism? Most recently for many evangelical churches it has been believed to be a decision or commitment that one makes, normally in the presence of other Christians. That decision is often made by walking to the front of the church at a prescribed time and saying a prayer that the pastor guides you through. At that point, if you are sincere, you become a Christian. The “invitation system” has become more and more prevalent in churches over the past two centuries. Like all things, it has brought with it advantages and disadvantages.

This understanding of conversion has led most churches to focus on the moment of decision and the future security that it can bring. Everything builds to that moment as the most important in a believer’s life. It makes sense then how many ministers have leveraged emotion, guilt, shame, soft music, low lights, and repeated pleas to entice people to make that decision. In many circles anything that leads people to making that decision is ok, because the decision itself is seen as so important. And that’s where the trouble begins.

What if we need a new building to help people make this important decision? Then let’s build a building. What about a bus to help people get to church to make that decision? Let’s buy a bus. A professional band? Billboards throughout the city? Jets to help the minister get from place to place so he can help others make that decision? Let’s pass the plate.

I’m not saying that all of these things are bad. If people are one decision away from honoring God completely and having their future forever changed then you would expect ministers to go to any lengths to secure those decisions. And sincere believers will give all sorts of time and money to that end.

But what if following Jesus involves a decision, but is actually much more than that? What if being a Christian is choosing a way to live life? What if it is actually a series of choices that we make every day to follow God and to not play by the rules of this world? Well that would require time and community, and jets and chandeliers may not have a lot to do with it. In fact, the way people begin their Christian life often shapes the way that they live out their Christian life.

I believe that living life as a Christian is more than a one-time decision, and that it is simple and costly at the same time. It’s a daily renewed commitment to an unpredictable relationship with God. When we believe that conversion is nothing more than a decision in time, then sending someone to gather as many of those decisions as possible makes sense. And if they need a jet to do it, so be it. But if life change is involved in becoming and living as a Christian, then things like feeding hungry children and caring for the poor become more of a priority than jets and multi-million dollar buildings.

I don’t know what’s to come of ministers who have used the money given by Christians to buy jets or thousand-acre ranches to build a home on. That’s none of my business. I do know that living as a Christian is at once less complicated and more difficult than they have made it sound. You can live and grow as a Christian in a church of thousands with a huge stage and professional lighting, and you can do it in a one room building with no air conditioning. All are invited, no jets required.

The post How To Get Someone Else To Buy A Jet For You first appeared on Michael Ramsey.

I ended my last post with a question. How are so many Christian leaders able to get people to place their hopes on things that God has never directly promised them? Prosperity ministers are able to convince us that God has promised us things that He hasn’t promised by preying on our normal desires. Of course, we would all like wealth, greater health, to prosper at our jobs and in our community. Those things aren’t bad. There is nothing wrong with having those things or working hard to try to get them. We have to remember though that they are not promised to us by God. It also means that a life filled with contentment that is productive and pleasing to God is possible without those things as well. When ministers lead people to believe that our natural desires are actually God-ordained rights, problems arise. They seek to convince us that God wants us to have the things we want, because that’s what a good God would do.

But is it?

A similar question would be: do parents want everything for their kids that the kids want for themselves? I have a two year old that has a pretty good appetite. His favorite food currently is yogurt, which is ok, because most yogurt is relatively good for you. If he had his way, he would enjoy yogurt for every meal, and for all snacks in between. We don’t allow that, not because we don’t love him, but precisely because we do. That much yogurt wouldn’t be good for him. He doesn’t know that, but we do, and so loving him looks like giving him what he needs rather than just what he wants.

It’s a simplistic analogy, but God does much the same for us. A loving God would never give us everything we want. In fact, think back to when you were 16 years old and list the things that you wanted very badly. Aren’t you glad you didn’t get all of those things? Hoping for things is good, wanting things is fine as well. As a Christian one of the things that gives me most comfort, however, is that I can discuss my desires with God knowing that He knows and wants what’s best for me. It’s good to know that he might say no to something that I might want, because He knows it wouldn’t be best for me in the long run.

At the heart of the prosperity message is an arrogance that assumes that I know exactly what is best for me. I have some ideas, but in the end, God knows better. My friends might at times know what’s best for me. The government may claim to know what’s best for me, but God truly and consistently can be trusted to know what is best for me at all times. In fact, the entire Christian life is really a submitting to that one truth. God knows better. God knows what I need and is also aware of what I want. So, I choose to trust Him, even when it feels like it goes against something that I thought was best.

I hope that helps us understand why the prosperity message is so intoxicating. But it doesn’t explain how some leaders are able to get followers to purchase jets, opulent houses, and stadium size buildings for them in the name of God and the gospel message. That will be the focus of the next post.

The post You Can’t Always Get What You Want first appeared on Michael Ramsey.