Rocky Soil

From the Parable of the Sower:

Image by: georgeparrilla

"A sower went out to sow his seed....

...seed fell on the rock; when it sprang up, it withered, since it lacked moisture....the seed on the rock are those who, when they hear, welcome the word with joy. Having no root, these believe for a while and depart in a time of testing." Luke 8:1-15 (HCSB)

A couple of posts back I was talking about 'Character Over Kingdom" which leads to a simple directive: wait.

Connected to this thought is another great line: Excavate Rather than Build.

The parable of the sower describes a kind of believer who 'has no root' - in other words he is shallow and therefore unable to withstand difficulty. It's the same basic image as the guy who builds his house on the sand instead of the rock.

As I've walked through the last several years I can't tell you how many times I've been in a conversation where somebody winds up saying something like "You're different - I've never met a 'deep' Christian." I don't take this as a compliment to me or other Christians but instead a reflection on the likelihood that a LOT of Chistendom is living in rocky soil.

I suspect that all of us, at basically every point in our lives, are not characterized by any one of Jesus' soil metaphors but by all of them at the same time. Parts of my life welcome God gladly but thwart deep roots. Other parts are plagued by crows and still others are so sun baked that nothing gets through. But I'm just thinking about the rocky soil right now.

The thing about a rocky filed is this: there is good soil under there, it just takes hard work to get to it. Rocks need only to be noticed, lifted and moved out of the way to reveal what was always there, waiting to be put to good use.

Building 'depth' requires work, patience, and humility. I suspect many who stay shallow their whole lives do so out of ignorance more often than laziness though no doubt both come into play. Still, I think the biggest enemy of clearing stones is our addiction to comfort.

What you see is NOT what you get.

Let me bring in another image - the iceberg.

I think it was Craig who I first heard say that when you meet a man (or woman I presume) the entire thing we call their personality is really just the exposed part of something is driven by experiences, hurts and motives that are far, far deeper than any of us realize.

John Eldgredge says something similar that a man's personality is typically just a very elaborate fig leaf designed to mask what he is desperately afraid of - being known. I suppose that's not the entire thought - most men would kill to be truly known by just about anybody. What they fear is being 'exposed' where their worst image of themselves is revealed to be actually true.

The iceberg image is used to make a point about all of us - our lives are profoundly shaped by things that go on way beneath the surface, often so far down that we can't even see them in ourselves. For many, many people this reality is never understood and they go through life confounded by the things that seem to go wrong over and over and over again. In the context of this blog and The Intensive the iceberg is an invitation to deliberately go deep into our hearts to see what really lives there - to ask the tough questions and not walk away until we have answers.

• What are my real motives for being in this job?
• Why do I get so angry when she says that?
• Where did my passion go?

Knowledge is power. Understanding our own motives, desires, and fears can be absolutely pivotal in the way we go forward into a better future.

But 'soul work' is hard work.

Very

hard

work.

The iceberg is an image of what's really happening in our lives an in everybody's life. It's also an invitation to go deep into our hearts to look around. The rocky soil is a picture of the alternative, of a life 'unexamined' as Socrates would say.

Both images imply this idea of work to do, things to see and understand about ourselves. And yet - so few men take the time to try.

"God will give you everything you need for free. But everything you want - you'll have to work for." - Bill Johnson

I've found that all of the good stuff, all of the stuff that changes faith from a Sunday club to a full-throated crazy-talk adventure ride, is just beyond the veil of convenience. 

So I for one want very much to be 'good soil' where God's words, every thought, every murmur, every sigh, has a place to land where it can take root. I know that will take effort and perseverance and sacrifice but seriously - is it even remotely possible that it wouldn't be worth it?

Character Over Kingdom

One of the key refrains of the weekend was "Character over Kingdom."


At the heart of that phrase is a deliberate rejection of the kind of ambition and drivenness that men can so easily get caught up in. Or, more specifically, an assertion that one would value integrity over power. And while it could apply to a wide variety of things its primary focus in this context was on work and our careers.


We have this image in American folklore of the Wunderkid, the 20-yr old millionaire. It's everything wrapped up in the "self-made man" but at a young age. It's Michael J Fox in The Secret of My Success, Tom Hanks in Big, or Mark Zuckerberg in...well, in real life. It suggests that if you're smart enough, motivated enough or just lucky enough that power and money, fame and fortune are available without the need for really 'building' anything.


It may be one of the most destructive concepts we ever encounter as men.


Stepping back just a bit from this particular thought is a broader one that my modern mind both accepts and rejects simultaneously: Life has stages. We progress from one stage of life to another throughout our years and discerning the purpose of each season is of critical importance.


On the one hand is a part of me that lets loose a deeply felt sigh of relief to even hear such an idea. It feels like such a burden lifted from my shoulders. It tells me that 'acting my age' is in fact proper. Now that might sound a little strange coming from a 40 year old. After all, I'm not 18 striving to seem older. Nor am I 60 trying to look younger with my comb-over. But there is a constant song that calls us all to be something we aren't - perhaps younger, perhaps older, but always 'other' and following that song is utterly exhausting. But on the other hand - I love that song. I don't generally want to progress through life, I want to arrive at my goal. I don't want to grow and mature and learn - I want to have my way. Working my way through the ranks, paying my dues, climbing the ladder, learning the ropes; screw all of that. I'm in a hurry.


...which leads me back to the thought at hand.

The temptation to arrange for my own kingdom, as quickly as possible and with as little work as possible, typically comes at the cost of integrity or character. At the very least, it costs me my peace and it always comes at the cost of my ability to live in the present moment - the only moment where God actually lives.


As he phrase 'character over kingdom' rolls off your tongue it feels like a no-brainer. Of course I wouldn't compromise my good name for a quick buck! At the very least I think the value of the idea is self-evident  even if we're not certain of our own moral fiber. But really the concept is much, much deeper and much, much more expensive upon close inspection.


Going back to the Wunderkid archetype. The idea contains several hand grenades. There's the notion that young success is possible and there are just enough stories in the world to make the idea seem believable - kinda like the lottery. But 'possible' quickly turns into 'should' where each year that we're still not rich starts to feel like failure which leads to desperation, resignation, or both. It also suggests that wealth and fame are the proper reward for the gifted or the lucky. If I fancy myself gifted then every year asks where my natural reward is and "what am I doing wrong?" or 'Where is God now?" If I'm not so vain to think myself gifted then I sure long for luck and I start to envy and covet those who got a lucky break while I busted my ass. As I'm young, Zuck's story seems inspirational in a 'if he can do it...' kind of way but as the 20s become 30s I will cross a tipping point somewhere and Zuck is now the image of what went wrong with me. I might blame him, or God. I might blame my wife or myself, but the Wunderkid's effect over time is to keep my eyes of of now and I spend decades wearing myself down.


Its always in weariness that we are most vulnerable and when success has seemed elusive too long I start thinking I might sacrifice a little character for the sake of the kingdom that's being kept from me. Of course, it doesn't seem that way at the time. Instead I think my situational ethics to be 'wisdom.' After all, seeing things as 'black and white' is a sign of youthful naivety. So no - its not a bribe, its a fee. Yes my assistant is a DD 22 year old former Ms. Ohio, but she's really organized and it's not like I'm sleeping her (outside my mind).


In The Masculine Journey (I think) John says something like 'anybody who actually wants to be a king doesn't know how to be a good one.' When we strive for and arrange for our own kingdom, our own power and influence, we are falling to vain ambition.


To choose character over kingdom is this: to wait.


To take Jesus' advice about the lowest seat at the table very literally and reject power until it is cast upon you*. It's a decision to forgo the striving, the ladder jumping, the short-cut-seeking to money and power that is embedded in the image of the Wunderkid. It's not in any way a rejection of gifting or the child prodigy or to diminish talent - it's not even to say anything negative about Mr. Zuckerberg. It's a reflection on the power of these stories to make us try to force something to happen in our careers and how easily that can cost us our souls.


The alternative is to wait. To live in this moment, and this moment only. Working toward excellence but not striving for it. Building with wisdom and discernment, but not giving in to ambition. Waiting for God to be a man of his word who says 'humble yourself and I'll exalt you in due time.'

"...Time is the school in which we learn, 

Time is the fire in which we burn."

(Calmly We Walk  Through This April's Day)

-----

* There's a dark side to this thought too - the way in which we can far too quickly give leadership and authority to anybody who shows even a hint of ability way before they're ready...but that's another topic.