Traveling in Place

Goals, Priorities, and Grace

Yesterday I had an interesting conversation with a colleague in ministry. My friend was feeling a bit out of sorts, like she had lost the rudder on her ship and lacked a sense of direction and purpose. “I think I need to set some goals,” she said.

“Why?” I asked. “How would setting goals give you a better sense of purpose?”

“Because then I would know what was important and stop wasting my time on things that really don’t matter. I think that’s when I lose my way – when I get bogged down in stuff just because I don’t know how to say ‘no.’”

“So,” I asked, “are you talking about setting goals or priorities?” She thought for a moment and then nodded. “Priorities,” she said. “That’s what I need – a clearer understanding of what God is really calling me to do.”

I think the distinction between goals and priorities is critical – especially, though not exclusively, for people in pastoral ministry. Here’s why. When churches define their mission in terms of measurable goals, we turn these sacred communities into decidedly secular projects. I grew up in a religious tradition that was obsessed with numbers. Every year, Sunday Schools were strongly encouraged to set goals for higher attendance. Pastors were pressured to set goals for worship attendance, financial giving, number of baptisms, and so on. One’s success as a pastor was determined almost entirely by these harsh measurements. Looking back on that experience, I recognize how the pressure to constantly set and achieve measurable goals was a form of law that was every bit as contrary to grace as the legalistic application of the Law of Moses during the time of Jesus.

The Thin Line Between Distraction and Denial

The country of Yemen, a haven for Al Qaeda terrorists, is now devolving into chaos, further destabilizing the region and increasing the threat of global terrorism.

Newly-released data shows that, while the American economy is recovering at a brisk pace, the middle class is shrinking at an alarming rate. Income inequality is at record levels, threatening long-term stability.

The Super Bowl-bound New England Patriots are embroiled in controversy over “ball-gate,” the illegal deflation of game-time footballs in order to make them easier to grasp in cold weather.

Remember the Sesame Street song that goes, “Which of these things is not like the others? One of these things just doesn’t belong”?

I’ll add another question: which of these matters is currently garnering the most attention from the American public?

We’re approaching our nation’s unofficial national holiday, Super Bowl Sunday, which is as much about parties and TV commercials as it is about football, but it also illustrates the incredible hold that big-time sports exercises over the public imagination. This isn’t just an American phenomenon. In much of the rest of the world, Soccer is the reigning obsession.

Update on Life in "the Fifties"

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

I’ve hesitated to share these thoughts for fear that they would be relevant only for people roughly my age. But the more I stewed over it, the more I realized that intentional reflection on any season of life helps to bring clarity to the whole spectrum. So, it is with all humility that I contribute these words to a larger conversation about the gift of life itself.

I’m now one-third of the way through my fifties. As I’ve written before, I find this to be an odd decade of life. For one thing, it is fraught with danger – physical, emotional, and spiritual – more for men, I suspect, than women. This is the decade when lots of restless men foolishly sink themselves into debt by buying fast cars, big boats, and other testosterone-inducing toys, or engage in extra-marital affairs with women young enough to be their daughters. Even men who refrain from such irresponsible behavior begin to realize during their fifties that they’ve probably ascended the professional ladder about as high as they are going to go, and wonder if their lives have any lasting meaning. Self-doubt may slip into self-loathing and a morose attitude that is not endearing to loved ones.

This is also the decade when lots of men (and women) have to start paying for years of ingesting too much sugar and fat. It’s the time when heart trouble and other physical maladies manifest themselves and force us to face mortality. A friend’s doctor called this decade “the fatal fifties” and observed, “If you make it to 60 without a lot of health issues, you’ll probably be around awhile.”

Walls and Ways

January 6 is Epiphany, the day for Western Christians to remember the story of the Magi visiting the Christ-child. “Epiphany” means “revelation.” The star that led the Magi to Bethlehem was revealing Jesus to the world.

For several years now, Christian olivewood artisans in Bethlehem have been carving a different kind of nativity scene. It has all the traditional pieces – Mary, Joseph, the baby in a manger, shepherds, sheep, and three Magi riding on camels.  But it also includes one other piece – a wall separating the Magi from the stable to represent the 25-foot steel barrier that runs the length of the border of the West Bank and separates Jerusalem from Bethlehem. The “Separation Barrier” (simply called “The Wall” by most people) was built to protect Israelis from Arab terrorists. Erected through the middle of many Palestinian farms, it has resulted in economic disaster for many peaceful Arab citizens who are robbed, not only of their land, but also markets for their goods, health care, good education and rights of citizenship.

If the Magi were coming to visit the Christ-child today, they would face some serious security issues. They were all from Persia, which is present-day Iraq, so it isn’t hard to imagine what they would look like – dark skin, dark hair, and facial features associated with the Arab world. Today, they would be profiled as potential terrorists. They would have a very difficult time getting to Jerusalem to inquire of Jewish authorities where the Messiah was to be born. If they somehow got through one of the checkpoints in the Wall to do that, they would then have to pass through another checkpoint to get to Bethlehem, but more likely, they would be detained, and might be deported or imprisoned.