Muscles grow when they’re stressed past normal.  Can we strengthen our souls the same way?

Breaking the Spiritual Homeostasis

Dr. Hans Seyle, in his “General Adaptation Syndrome Model,” explains that our bodies become stronger when forced to respond and adapt to physical stressors. Crossfit talks about this a lot in regards to programming for fitness.  Essentially, the theory as I understand it, goes something like this:  we lift a one-hundred pound weight overhead 5 times.  We’ve never done this before.  Our body is forced to adapt because of the stress.  We get stronger. We lift the same weight again;  this time it’s easier (because we’re stronger!) so there’s less stress and no need for our bodies to adapt (i.e. get stronger).  We lift it again and again there’s less stress so less need to adapt.  If we continue to lift this same weight for the same number of repetitions we will maintain that particular level of strength, we’ll be at a state of physical homeostasis. Unless we do something to disrupt that status we don’t grow.

The question for me is two-fold:

1. Do our souls “grow” the same way? and
2. What exercises should we do to break out of our spiritual homeostasis?

My theory for question #1 is yes. Call it what you like – soul/spirit/presence/character/self – there’s something that is in us that is us that is not the physical, mental or emotional.

So, if our souls can grow, they can workout. They can get stronger; interestingly, that should mean that they can get weaker as well.

Question #2 is really what the blog is supposed to be about.  Workouts for our soul.  If you click on the category called “Workouts” you should be able to at least stretch out a little bit.

If you have some ideas for workouts please leave your thoughts in the comments below or contact me directly.

Be strong (er)!

Is Facebook My New Church?  Wow!  Never thought I’d see the day when that title shows up on my screen.  I’m not even being facetious; this is a legitimate question for me.  Here’s a list of what I think is supposed to happen at church.  Let’s see if FB makes the cut. I’ll number them, in no priority order, to be able to address each one as necessary.

1. Church brings people together.
2. Church contributes to my spiritual growth.
3. Church, the actual act of attending, focuses my attention on God.
4. Church, the actual act of belonging, offers me mutually supportive and accountable relationships with like-minded people.
5. Church provides me a community where I can give and receive to and from others.
6. Church connects me to the body of Christ around the world.

Looking back on 20+ years of church participation and attendance the two big positives for me were spiritual growth and relationships.  The church I attended always made it a point to say that church isn’t only what happens on Sunday (or whatever day you attend), but was also the day-to-day interactions with God and people.

(Aside)  It would be pretty trippy to get a friend request from God and read updates on his status.  Gotta admit that this is what I think prayer is supposed to be:  Regular status updates, likes, happy birthdays, invitations and direct messages from and to God.

Back to the question.

If you look at the list of the off-the-top-of-my-head functions of church Facebook appears to do quite well in almost all of them.  In fact, in some, it might even be better (#1 and #6). There are problems, though, with considering Facebook a church.

Euphoric Facebook Experiences?

First, the act of browsing the most recent updates usually doesn’t leave me with a mountain-top encounter with God.  Neither does it usually leave me with a deep feeling of koinonia fellowship.  Most people just don’t turn to FB with thoughts of spiritual development in mind. #2 and #3 are not things normally associated with post-facebooking activity.

There have been times, however, when I’ve been asked to pray for someone, counseled and been counseled, and been moved by songs and videos and quotes posted by others.  I have been rebuked and instructed and encouraged.  Recently, I watched a video of a friend of mine and his daughter singing the old Vineyard song, “Hungry.” It’s a gift they have and they shared it with us.

Really, when you think about it, how many times have you been strongly moved or touched attending church?  Every time?  Awesome.  I bet it’s more like occasionally. Was it because the speaker was so dynamic or the worship team was on that day?  Probably not.  It’s more likely you yourself were ready to receive, to share, to encounter.  When you practice the presence of God (as Brother Lawrence wrote about), like anything else you practice, you improve.  Can I say you grow?   I think so.

How Accountable Are You?  Really?

Secondly, the absence of face-to-face communication can make the goal of mutually supportive and accountable relationships difficult to achieve.  Or does it? My thinking is that you are as accountable as you want to be.  Attending or not attending church doesn’t make you more (or less accountable).   I just read about a research study that found people more likely to lie and make false claims on-line, though.  I question whether they would be significantly more honest and forthright face-to-face over some coffee after church.  Maybe.

The Biggest Problem

There’s something that happens when the body is gathered together that is the biggest thing Facebook can’t provide.  When a group of people, who are loving God and loving each other, come together to lift their voices in song and praise – man! – it’s untouchable!  No online website/community will ever be able to replicate that experience for me.

Ultimately and bottom line, my perspective is what transforms the mundane into the spiritual, the normal to the super-normal, and transports me from earth to heaven.  If I approach Facebook (or Twitter or any other similar online community) with spiritual intentions I’ll get spiritual results. If I don’t, just like at church, I won’t.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything – thanks Jon for pointing that out . I’ve been able to write some things on my kaala.com that allows for some spiritual release.

In fact, this post didn’t start off as a post at all but as a response to the video link below and a friend of mine asking me

“What implications do you see for building ongoing spiritual community?”

My email response to him is below and I thought that it might help to stimulate some other’s thinking as well.  The response is top of mind, that is, I didn’t spend much time planning and sorting it through.  Feel free to correct and shape through the comments.

Thanks for the Sunday message

aloha,
Kaala

The really un- shocking (?) point here for me is that the initial drive is one to belong, to be a part of, to be self in line with, empathizing with, a group.  According to the video, when we become more self-aware we become more other aware.  We recognize that others are going to go through the same things we’re going to go through.

Could it be that when we become more other aware we become more God aware?  Or is it that when we become more self-aware we become more God aware which also leads to other awareness and which may lead to the accomplishing of the commandments to love God and love our neighbor?

So much of my Christian life has been focused on coming at it from the know more about the bible and know more about God approach – so cerebral. I take notes, I highlight, I discuss and debate the pre or this or the mid of that. I memorize and I do this study and fill in these blanks for these 10 steps towards Christian Maturity.  What does this approach accomplish?

• I’m certainly more knowledgeable. This is good because that was THE OBJECTIVE.  Increasing my knowledge base was supposed to, according to the system, increase my loving God base.  It don’t think this was explicitly stated in my membership packet but if you look at a pie chart of activities that were offered for my spiritual development and growth, you’ll see a strong emphasis on acquiring knowledge.

• Also, by the way, in that “build my knowledge base” approach, I can distinguish between a “right” and “wrong” view and am able to list the reasons why my view is the former.  (Why would I believe it otherwise??)

I think that knowledge is important.  But there is only so far that knowledge will take me.  Now we’re back to my old fitness/health argument.  If you have not done any exercise then any exercise will help you lose weight or get more healthy.  That “any” exercise, however, may not be enough (depending on what you’re doing) to provide your body with enough stimulus to force continuing adaptation i.e. growth.

There probably are some people who, when they know more, grow more.  I don’t think this works for me.  I’m specifically talking about what I call book knowledge about God.  I’ve studied a lot, read a lot, and that lot hasn’t brought me to a state of wonder and awe as much an early morning sunrise over the Mokulua islands off of Lanikai beach.

Children’s illustrated bibles should contain enough of the information I need to move me to a certain point.  And here’s, I think, the crux of it:

The book/movie “The Notebook” has strongly influenced my perceptions on love, relationships and marriage.  I cried at the end of that movie as I sat next to my wife, also crying.  There are some things theologically that would make some not recommend it but for me the love that was demonstrated overrode the “issues.”

And this is what’s it’s about for me, this could be the root of my frustration:  movement.  Growth.  Difference. Change.  If I’m moving, growing, developing, if I’m continuing to make gains, then the system is working. And when I’m not there’s something wrong with the system.

Historically, I’ve put the blame on me, i.e. I’m not doing the system fully or correctly and that’s why I’m not growing.  Lately, I’ve been able to step back enough to get some perspective and question the system itself.

This brings me back (barely) to the self/other/God awareness process that originally started this off.  Is there a linear approach that looks like increased God aware -> increased self aware -> increased other aware which in turn all allows us to Love God and our neighbor hence fulfilling the greatest commandments? Or is it increased self-aware -> increased other aware -> increased God aware which would do the same?  If it does the same thing but gets there differently I’m thinking it’s all good.

It looks to me like the question could be a chicken or the egg debate.

Other “roads” or “systems” could be just as valid if they started from where I am as a “self” and, through the deepening understanding of who I am, lead me to the open door of the house of God.

Let me boil this down to some bullet points:

1. Loving God requires all of us, heart, mind, body and soul
2. Any efforts at Christian development (i.e. our ability to Love God) should be inclusive of the heart, mind, body and soul.
3. Historically, the system I come from emphasizes one or two of these development areas.
4. Efforts at Christian development should be able to define the process along these four parallel (or one wider) paths and the outcomes to be expected (i.e. fruit) in those four paths.
5. Community, or “other awareness” is an integral part of how we are “wired” and how we grow.  Efforts at Christian development need to provide opportunities to become more other aware, i.e. empathetic.

I remember a quote I heard a long time ago that said something like:

The Christian life is not something that has been tried and found wanting as much as it has not been tried.

I feel that I’m only now beginning to push aside the cobwebs and blow off the dust and get to a position that can allow me to give that Christian Life a shot.  Ironically, it’s my knowledge base that supports that

I mentioned in an earlier post that there is a word that, if used in place of the word “church” in the bible, would clarify my position on what church was meant to be.  I in no way mean to say we shouldn’t use the word church.  I do in every way say that we should use the word church more accurately.  I’ve copied and pasted a search from biblegateway.com below.  There’s some 50 or so instances, in order, unedited, where “church” is used in the New International Version (NIV).  Substitute this one word.  Skim through the verses reading it with this word.  Realize that you can no longer “go to church” because you are the church.

The word is –

Continue Reading »

I’m posting up an article by Henry Rollins (Black Flag singer) that I read a long time ago.  It’s a little long but fascinating read.  If anything else read the last 3 or 4 paragraphs.  Then go workout.

Iron and the Soul

Henry Rollins

I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like you parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. Completely.

When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me “garbage can” and telling me I’d be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn’t run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.

I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn’t going to get pounded in the hallway between classes.

Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you’ll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn’t think much of them either.

Then came Mr. Pepperman, my adviser. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard.

Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn’t even drag them to my mom’s car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.

Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.’s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn’t looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing.

In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn’t want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in. Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn’t know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.

Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn’t say **** to me.

It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn’t want to come off the mat, it’s the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn’t teach you anything. That’s the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.

It wasn’t until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a ceratin amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can’t be as bad as that workout.

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn’t ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you’re not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.

I have never met a truly strong person who didn’t have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone’s shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr. Pepperman.

Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.

Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body. Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn’t see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.

I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you’re made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live.

Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it’s some kind of miracle if you’re not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole. I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron mind.

Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind. The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it’s impossible to turn back.

The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you’re a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.

-Henry Rollins

The “C” word – Church Defined

When I say “I-don’t-go-to-church” I understand “go” and “church” in very specific ways.  It’s a little scary to publish this out there but here’s my head on a platter.

When I say “go” I mean attend, frequent, be present regularly and consistently.  I do occasionally buy a bacon double-cheeseburger from Jack-in-th-Box but I don’t go all the time. I have one of those maybe two or three (ok, maybe four) times a year.  Now, I recognize that there are people who have a JIB attendance kind of record at church (Easters and Christmases) who consider themselves church-goers but that’s not what I’m mean when I say it.

When I use the word “go” as it applies to churches I’m meaning that I participate as a regular attender or even a member.  I’m there most every Sunday. I probably have a regular place to park and to sit and listen to the sermon. I’ve been going to church in this fashion since 1987 – that’s a lot of years!

A Church I don't go to

No Address

I’ve been tossing that “c” word out a lot and when I say I don’t go to “church”, I mean I don’t go to a place (building, house, coffee shop, beach, conference room, stadium, cafeteria) where people meet regularly to hear a bible sermon, sing praise songs, fellowship with other like-minded persons, learn about their faith, be held to certain group determined norms and standards and contribute financially to group projects or goals. I also don’t go to a place that has an identity that can be communicated through bumper stickers, t-shirts, pencils, journals or other swag.  Nine out of 10 times this type of church has an address I can find through a google search.  This is what I don’t go to.   Sort of.

Neither do I (and here I might appear to digress too broadly but bear with me) regularly go to a place that is configured for fitness activities, occasionally offers free weeks or months of access with no sign-up fees, has lots of other people with similar goals, provides expert instruction on the use of the machines/equipment, and…Yes, I don’t go to a gym.  Sort of.

When I get asked what church I’m going to (frequently asked, in fact just yesterday) or what gym I workout at (less frequently asked!  Why is that??) this is what they’re asking.

The “sort of” responses above require some explanation.  First, I do workout.  A lot.  I eat a lot too which is why I don’t get asked what gym I go to very often.   Secondly, I do go to church.  Ughh!!  Even as I write that I shudder because of how I’m using those words!  But I do a sort of “church” thing that will require further explanation.

I’m doing this post in pieces not to build suspense but because I went to the beach today, just me and my wife, and am running short on time.  So, when I get back to my keyboard my plan is to share the “Why” part of “Why I don’t go to Church” along with the problems inherent in my lack of attendance.  And yes, there definitely are problems with not going to church as I’ve defined it above.  I’ll also share the one word that if I do a global find/replace in the New Testament for “church” and replace it with this one word it radically clears up my understanding of where I’m trying to go.

Feel free to post comments, love/hate messages in the space below

Stay tuned.

Why I Don’t Go to Church.

I don’t go to church.

That’s actually, in today’s world, kind of a cryptic remark so let me clarify and define and explain the what and why of it as best I can.  In doing so my goal is to encourage the strengthening of your soul.  It’s not for you to stop going or to start going anywhere.  It’s really to help you stop carrying burdens you do and start living in the fullness of the life that don’t.  Is that possible if you go to church?  Yes. Is it possible if you don’t? Yes.  Really, yes.  And yes, this is the question for many:  Is there spiritual life without church attendance? Can one sustain and grow a viable, healthy, active, strong spirituality without going to church? Is there life without church?

I-don’t-go-to-church. I think if I break down this sentence word by word I’ll be able to get across what I’m hoping to communicate with this post.

“I” – Background

A little background about me beginning, like the old-fashioned resume, with the most recent, relevant church history first.

2002-2008

I was the senior (lead, head, main, primary) pastor of the Foursquare church Hope Chapel Mana’olana here in Hawaii.  We began our church meeting at a nightclub in Honolulu, Pipeline Cafe, on Sunday mornings.  It was very much a clash of forces and principalities.  I still remember coming early to setup, opening the doors of the bar and watching the smoke from hundreds of cigarettes puffed the night before billowing out into the morning.  We stayed there for about a year and a half until we moved to a school cafeteria.

In 2008 I tried (emphasis on “tryyyy-ied”) to reorganize our church into small, semi-autonomous groups that met on their own with no direct oversight on my part and no fixed schedule or requirements from me other than to work together in becoming more like Christ, loving God and loving the people around us.  I moved into what management and leadership people would call a laisezze faire, or hands-off, approach to the church.  We called them home-churches and distinguished ourselves by not meeting together every weekend like most other churches around us.  We didn’t collect any offerings or tithes or special gifts.  We had no rent, bills or overhead.  We had no staff, programs or identifiable ministries.  After a year had gone by we effectively had no congregation.  I had “re-org-ed” us out of a church.

What were you thinking, Kaala?  What were your objectives?  What could possibly be such a big payoff that you would risk losing your whole church? Hold that thought because that’s what this whole thing is about.

During the year we tried to be a “home-church” church I had some difficulties with the monthly forms our denomination required because the things we were asked to measure weren’t always applicable.  Duh. The report asked for attendance numbers, income and offerings.  We didn’t track those.  It also asked for salvations and baptisms.  We sort of tracked those.  The major difficulty I had was that the things I was wanting to track weren’t being asked for in the report.  Or, at least from my perspective.  How does one measure actual spiritual growth?  How do you measure an increase in Christ-likeness?  In love?  In kindness?

I had begun my search for the forms that could track this.

And the pun there is intentional, though slightly facetious.  I really don’t think there’s a form out there with the questions and bubble answer responses that will help me score my spirituality.  However, I do believe there is a form of church, an approach to spiritual development, somewhere, and if I seek I will find.

I’m throwing out the “c” word as if its universally understood.  I might have some different-then-yours definition of church so let me jump ahead to the last word in “I-don’t-go-to-church.”

The “C” Word – Church Defined

(to be continued)

Warning:  This post is NOT drama free and is only as deep and meaningful as you make it.

Just got back from the beach. And yes, it was another beautiful day in Hawaii.  I went to surf with my family but sat along the shore for about 15 minutes.  I wish I could say I was contemplating deep, spiritual, and philosophic thoughts but I can’t ’cause I wasn’t.  What I was doing was sitting on the sand watching the waves roll in because I was – cold.  There.  I said it.  Cold as in not warm, as in brrrrrr…I couldn’t motivate myself to get off the sand and into the water. So I sat there. And contemplated.  And thought.

One of my sons, Micah, was already in the water, catching waves, braving the icy chill of the noon time Pacific ocean.   He’s always been the first in, last out boy.  The other was contemplating the uh, conditions, with me.

Two things pushed me past the cold. It wasn’t the waves because the conditions weren’t that great (in fact, if I really had gone to surf I would’ve turned around and gone home instead). The first thing was that I had come to surf with my two boys, to be in the water, hang out, spend some time together.  They’re both getting older and pretty soon I’ll be going to the same beach but surfing alone.  I want to receive this day as the gift it is. Being and wanting to be “being,” both physically and spiritually in that moment, pushed me past my warm, comfortable spot on the sand.

The second reason I got in the water was that I recalled, simply and profoundly, my mortality.  Not only are my days of surfing with my teen-aged sons quickly passing, but my own days of physically being able to get out in the water and surf are measured.  I turned to the “contemplative” son next to me and said, “I’m going out and I’m going to relish in the cold!  I’m going to savor each moment of that initial, icy plunge because this is how I know I’m alive!  I can feel.  I want to feel.  I’m going out in that water and I will feel because I’m alive.”

No joke.  I’m not kidding or making this up.  This is what was going through my brain and what we were talking about.  A little dramatic?  Maybe.  (More like a little traumatic for my boy but he’s used to it…)  He raised one eyebrow, grinned at me, rose to his feet and moved to stand at the shore beside me.  When that first touch of cold blue hit my feet I slowed, but only for a moment.  Then I grinned, raised my one eyebrow, turned my face out to the sea, and keeping with the spirit of the moment, embraced the drama by yelling “I’m alive!” as I plunged into the waves.

You may have heard that saying “good is the enemy of best” but I’m thinking that good, and it’s doppelganger adjective bad may both be enemies of the soul.  There have been some times in the past few years where some good things happened, and at the time, these things seemed – good; they felt positive, beneficial even.  And I was happy. Then, as the world turned, those same previously identified good things turned into bad things.  And I became unhappy.

Now, I’m wondering if this dichotomous good/bad, up/down world-view is keeping me on the proverbial life roller coaster.  Should I be avoiding these extremes and search for constancy or could there be, maybe, another way to look at the situations?

Ancient Taoist Proverb

One day, a farmer’s horse ran away. His neighbors expressed sympathy, “What terrible luck that you lost your horse!” The farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not.”

A few days later, the horse returned, leading several wild horses. The neighbors shouted, “Your horse has returned, and brought more with him. What great fortune!” The farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not.”

Later that week, the farmer’s son was trying to break one of the wild horses and got thrown to the ground, breaking his leg. The villagers cried, “Your son broke his leg, what a calamity!” The farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not.”

A few weeks later, soldiers from the national army marched through town, conscripting all the able-bodied young men for the army. They did not take the farmer’s son because of his broken leg. Friends shouted, “Your boy is spared, what tremendous luck!” To which the farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not.”

Moral: Everything is not what it appears to be.

I’ve gone back and forth with questions abounding on the farmer’s maybe attitude.  Is living a life of non-judgment where there is no good and no bad a “good” thing?  Can I, or should I, even ask that question? Do I want to negate the highs in my life to avoid the lows? Is to live a maybe life to live a monotone life?

This story has fascinated me for years.  It has its analog in the New Testament book of Philippians where the apostle Paul states:

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.

If I superimpose Paul’s contentment with the farmer’s maybe I begin to get the picture.  Simply put, it’s good to be content.  I don’t want to live a life of no goods or bads for how could I be happy without the sad?  But my goods and bads are difficult to determine from my temporal vantage point.  How am I to know the difference?  Maybe I don’t need to know.  What I need is to be content.

Contentment is no cop-out, it’s not constant dull and dreary.  To live with contentment is different than to live with constancy.  Constancy, with no highs or lows, just a straight line life, is not the life this soul desires.  A straight line on your heart monitor is called a flat line, so call it a dead soul life, no bass no treble.  Contentment allows me to experience life fully, with all its glorious goods and bads.

So, it’s not good OR bad or maybe but rather good AND bad AND maybe.  This addition of maybe allows me to withhold judgment in favor of contentment, to substitute my limited perspective with limitless serenity.

And this, to my soul, is good.

A few weeks ago I put up a quote on my facebook page that got a lot of interesting responses  from people.  It wasn’t meant to be devisive – just to make me think.

Going to church is to spiritual growth as running is to fitness.

Some responses focused on the discipline required for both.  Others said that running isn’t the “only” way to get in shape and neither was going to church.  One person mentioned that running was an easy way to start working out; it doesn’t require a lot of investment or upfront costs and you can get a lot out of it pretty quickly – just like attending a church.

Is running good for you?  Sure. Can you lose weight and strengthen your cardiovascular system?  Yep, I’ve lost the weight and I can find the reports that say it’s good for me.   Will running make your muscles stronger?  Well…sort of.  What about giving me improved balance? Will running improve my coordination or agility?  What about power?

Running is good.   Going to a church service on a Sunday is good.  Both require other activities to complete you as an athlete and as a person.