“You are going to feel like hell if you never write the stuff that is tugging on the sleeves of your heart — your stories, visions, memories, visions and songs. Your truth, your version of things, your own voice. That is really all you have to offer us. And that’s also why you were born.”
Anne Lamott
“You are going to feel like hell if you never write the stuff that is tugging on the sleeves of your heart — your stories, visions, memories, visions and songs. Your truth, your version of things, your own voice. That is really all you have to offer us. And that’s also why you were born.”
Anne Lamott
“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
Matthew 5:43-48 NIV
This post was prompted by responses to Brent Leatherwood’s tweet below.
Below is a small sample of responses to Leatherwood’s gracious comment. The depth of vitriol was stunning many, if not most, coming from his own SBC cohort.
As I read through more of the comments I was increasingly incensed and saddened by the hatred and obliviousness toward Jesus’ teaching to love our enemies. Amidst those emotions, prompted by the Spirit of God, I experienced conviction; revealing how much my heart embraces, if not hatred, distain for my enemies. It is a low bar to love those who love me. I found myself in the company of the of Leatherwood’s critics. It didn’t take much introspection to hear the echo of my own words and thoughts about my “Feinsteins”.
When we feel the spear of regret, life is trying to tell us something. Pay attention. Wake up. Take notes.
Daniel Pink
This past Sunday, during a lunch conversation with friends, Ann shared her story from fifty plus years ago about coming to a faith of her own. It was a Sunday evening service. She and our three young boys had gone to church without me. Moved by the sermon, she was drawn to respond. Repentant, she asked for forgiveness and committed her life to following Jesus.
Listening, I had some vague remembrance, but no real recollection of what was obviously a very significant event in her spiritual life. After lunch, on our way home, I asked her about that evening. Her remembrance is clear. She had gone to church with the boys. She asked me to go but I told her no. Coming home, I was sitting on the couch wearing a tee shirt smoking a cigarette. She told me what happened at church. My response was, “What’d you do that for?”
I was dumbfounded. “That’s all I said ?” “I didn’t offer encouragement or appreciation?” “I didn’t ask anything?” “No.” The image of me as young husband and father, I had refined over the past fifty years, did not comport with her story. In that moment, I was confronted with a truth about myself. I am not what I believed myself to be. In that moment, I was filled with regret. Regret for treating Ann badly. Regret for missing an opportunity to be the husband and father I should have been. Regret for being an insensitive jerk.
The regret I experienced in reaction to Ann’s story was painful and curious. There is no question I should regret my conduct, but 50+ years later? Learning I had never apologized, I gave Ann a belated apology. In the days since regret has been on my mind. Having read Daniel Pink’s book “ThePower of Regret” while in Florida, the subject is somewhat fresh in my mind. Numerous questions arose in the intervening days, stimulating me to write this post.
Why would regret be so real and fresh hearing Ann’s story? Was an apology really necessary after 50 years? Why isn’t regret a usual part of today’s vocabulary? How is regret different, if at all, from sorrow, grief or lament? If regret is an integral part of our human experience, why is there an absence of sermons or lectures on regret? Should regret be a part of a Christian’s life?
Some beliefs operate quietly, like existential background music, Others become anthems for a way of living. And few credo blare more loudly than the doctrine that regret is foolish— a toxin in the bloodstream of happiness.
The Power of Regret
In a culture obsessed with happiness, it should come as no surprise that regret is in the penalty box with grief and lament and other negatives. “Why invite pain when we can avoid it?” “Why rue what we did yesterday when we dream of the limitless possibilities of tomorrow?”
No regrets they don’t work No regrets they only hurt Sing me a love song Drop me a line Suppose it’s just a point of view But they tell me I’m doing fine.
No regrets by Robbie Williams
Since my recent encounter with regret, I’ve been thinking how regret differs from sorrow, grief or lament. All of those experiences are painful. Unlike the pain of sorrow, grief or lament, which is deep, protracted and chronic; pain of regret is is sharp and piercing, a wound demanding attention.
The thing about regret is that it hurts. And it hurts for a reason; it’s conveying a particularly strong signal. The fact that I feel a spear of negative feeling called regret makes it much more likely that I’m going to be awake to the possibility of learning from that mistake, if I treat it right.
Daniel Pink
The soul-depth of sorrow, grief and lament demands answers, a struggle that challenges our faith and can lead to despair. With regret the answer is unambiguous, we are responsible, in that moment we understand “We have met the enemy and he is us.” (P0go). There is no one to blame except ourselves. As Pink says, “It clarifies, It instructs.”
“No regrets”, a mantra in our culture and companion of the cult of happiness, has infiltrated western Christianity. Regret and lament are unwelcome intrusions into a “live happily ever after” delusion. Walter Brueggermann understood the costly loss of lament and there is a similar cost with the loss of regret.
Without regret we become —Eve, “the devil made me do it.” or worse — Adam, blaming God, “the woman you gave me…”
Where there is lament [regret], the believer is able to take initiative with God and so develop over against God the ego strength that is necessary for responsible faith. But where the capacity to initiate lament is absent, one is left only with praise and doxology. A community of faith which negates laments [regrets] soon concludes that the hard issues of justice are improper questions to pose at the throne, because the throne seems to be only a place of praise.
Regret like suffering is an attribute of our humanity, and thus our Christian life. There is value in both, but their benefit is not enjoyed by dwelling on or seeking them. “No regrets” denies reality and robs us of opportunity for redemption and growth.
You let the distress bring you to God, not drive you from him. The result was all gain, no loss. Distress that drives us to God does that. It turns us around. It gets us back in the way of salvation. We never regret that kind of pain. But those who let distress drive them away from God are full of regrets, end up on a deathbed of regrets.”
2 Corinthians? ?7:9-10? ?MSG
I have only skirted the edges of understanding regret and its power for good or ill. I highly recommend Daniel Pink’s “The Power of Regret” . I labored to write this post. A few days ago heading out for a walk and perusing my podcasts, I was pleasantly surprised to see a sermon by Josh Graves at Otter Creek Church of Christ entitled “No Regrets”. He had some helpful insights and for those of you who want to dig deeper you can listen HERE.
If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.
A.I. Solzhenitsyn
The previous post provided a glimpse into my fundamental spiritual conflict as exemplified by schadenfreude — the relentless struggle with my heart. After writing on a subject, often an article or post will appear that illuminates the topic much better than my attempts. That was the case today. My favorite Orthodox blogger, Fr Stephen Freeman posted “Healing the Heart” . Here are a couple of quotes to encourage you read the entire post.
Learning to open our eyes to the source of our actions and the absolute need for the grace of the Holy Spirit in order to change our hearts is the most fundamental understanding in our daily life before God.
...the truth of our problem is to be found in the very character of our existence: Is it being transformed into the image of Christ or is it falling deeper into corruption and death?
I continue to find Freeman’s insights into Orthodox faith and doctrine helpful in my spiritual journey. Here are some questions I am pondering after reading “Healing the Heart”:
To what extent does a view of my relationship with God through a lens of “legal standing” or “debts owed,” shape my understanding of the spiritual life?
What are implications of “Man, as a fallen creature, is better described as diseased or broken ?
…the truth of our problem is to be found in the very character of our existence: Is my character being transformed into the image of Christ or is it falling deeper into corruption and death?
Shouldn’t every Christ follower, like priests hearing confession listen intently for the state of the heart (if possible) rather than simply categorizing and subjecting to legal analysis what they hear? Always mindful, it is considered a sin to judge someone whose confession you are hearing. How that would impact Christ followers’ relationships ?
Are my prayers focused on other’s behavior or on the healing of their hearts?
There are a myriad of other things to think about in our faith, many of them serving as religious distractions from the essential work of repentance. It is easier to argue points of doctrine than to stand honestly before God in prayer or confession. Doctrine is important (what Orthodox priest would deny this?) but only as it makes Christ known to us. But the knowledge of Christ that saves is not the knowledge one gains as mere information – but rather the knowledge one gains inwardly as we repent, pray, forgive, and humble ourselves before God. The promise to us is that the “pure in heart shall see God.”
