“To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.”
-Lewis B. Smedes
During the occupation of Holland, an exemplary woman named Corrie Ten Boom and her equally amazing family joined the Dutch underground, and hid Jews from the Nazis. They did so by building a secret room at the top of their home, and for almost two years dozens of men, women, and children were sheltered from death there. Eventually, though, the Ten Booms were betrayed by a neighbor and imprisoned. Corrie and her sister Betsie were sent to the concentration camp at Ravensbruck. Corrie would survive the hell, but Betsie would not. Corrie’s response? To preach about forgiveness...everywhere...especially in Germany.
So it was not coincidental that Corrie was speaking at a Sunday church service in post-war Munich in 1947. She had just finished addressing the congregation and was leaving when she noticed a man headed directly toward her. She knew him immediately as one of the prison guards who had stood watch in the processing area of the camp, by where the women entered for their initial showers. In The Hiding Place she writes that the man smiled and thanked her for her message, and then reached out his hand and asked for her forgiveness. In that split second, all the anger, trauma, shame, fear, and memories of Ravensbruck came rushing back, and she froze. Naturally. Most of us wouldn’t have had the courage to even go back to Germany, let alone preach about forgiveness there. Corrie was already heroic, for God’s sake.
But to be asked to forgive any Nazi, let alone one who had personally persecuted her and her sister? Are you serious? The former guard didn’t remember Corrie, but she couldn’t forget him. And go figure, she didn’t exactly feel like forgiving this particular man on this particular Sunday.
But Corrie realized that the virtue of forgiveness is not about feeling, and does not pick and choose its recipients. Forgiveness is an act of the will, and it has to be offered to all. She knew that if she was not able to forgive this man, she would always remain a prisoner…free from Ravensbruck but not from the pain, the evil, the cruelty of Ravensbruck. So with tears running down her cheeks she took his hand in hers, and forgave him. And all the angels in Heaven bowed in admiration.
“To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.”
Forgiveness is a grace that can happen all at once, but more often than not it’s a process-miracle that happens in stages. And the more it’s practiced the more it becomes a virtue, and not just an isolated victory for good. Forgiveness does not ever ask you to forget, but it does ask you to let go; let go of any chance of sweet revenge on another, or just repayment by another, or proper response from another. Because in the end, forgiveness is not about the other…it’s about you. And you forgive because it’s good for you.
Forgiveness is not easy. In fact, it’s arguably the most difficult virtue of all to practice, let alone acquire. But ask yourself how much you want to love, how free you’d like to be, and how prison life is really working for you?
Questions for reflection:
Are you good at forgiving?
Who models the virtue of forgiveness for you? How?
What is one thing you can begin doing to practice the virtue of forgiveness?
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Working out: The virtue of industriousness
“We work to become, not to acquire.”
-Elbert Hubbard
Bill Porter was born with cerebral palsy, in a world that is forever underestimating the power of the human spirit. Fortunately, his parents did not. They valued their son’s dignity, as well as the dignity of work. So when the time came for him to get a job Porter got busy looking. He never considered going on disability a viable option, although he certainly met the medical requirements. He had great difficulty walking, struggled with chronic pain, and spoke with a speech impediment.
His greatest obstacle, though, was not his physical health, but the perceptions of would-be employers. So after years of hearing the message that he was unemployable, he naturally chose to be a door-to-door salesman. I kid you not.
The Watkins Company in Portland, Oregon gave him a chance, and that’s all he needed. For forty years Porter walked seven to ten miles a day, five days a week, knocking on doors, cold-calling potential customers, selling a variety of home care products…for forty years. That in itself is worthy of celebration; the fact that he became the company’s top salesman is icing on the cake.
Bill Porter will tell you on his website that at almost 80 years-old now he is no longer able to walk his route, but is still working and growing his business thanks to the internet.
There’s this strange confusion that exists for many about work; that it is a curse, a burden we must all bear until we finally reach retirement and can afford to stop working. But the virtue of industriousness redefines (or better, reclaims) what work really is.
Industriousness says that work is about starting and finishing tasks with diligence. With diligence? At first this sounds a bit compulsive, but consider what diligence means; “to love, to appreciate, to choose after careful consideration and attention.” Love through your work, appreciate through your work, and carefully consider and attend through your work.
The virtue of industriousness is about working to become, not just to acquire. And the virtue of industriousness insures that our work, in our professional lives and in our personal lives, will give us a sense of dignity and true self-worth.
Bill Porter did not have to “work,” in the narrowest sense of the word. He could have sat at home and collected disability checks. He had several built-in excuses. But he understood that he needed to work, not to survive but to thrive. So do we all. Work is the arena where all virtues can be developed, where we can change, and where we can change the world.
If you’re seeing work as a 40 hour a week grind, and part of a 40 year prison sentence, consider the industrious life of Bill Porter. And then truly get to work!
Questions for reflection:
What does “work” mean to you?
Who models the virtue of industriousness for you? How?
What is one thing you can begin doing to practice the virtue of industriousness?
-Elbert Hubbard
Bill Porter was born with cerebral palsy, in a world that is forever underestimating the power of the human spirit. Fortunately, his parents did not. They valued their son’s dignity, as well as the dignity of work. So when the time came for him to get a job Porter got busy looking. He never considered going on disability a viable option, although he certainly met the medical requirements. He had great difficulty walking, struggled with chronic pain, and spoke with a speech impediment.
His greatest obstacle, though, was not his physical health, but the perceptions of would-be employers. So after years of hearing the message that he was unemployable, he naturally chose to be a door-to-door salesman. I kid you not.
The Watkins Company in Portland, Oregon gave him a chance, and that’s all he needed. For forty years Porter walked seven to ten miles a day, five days a week, knocking on doors, cold-calling potential customers, selling a variety of home care products…for forty years. That in itself is worthy of celebration; the fact that he became the company’s top salesman is icing on the cake.
Bill Porter will tell you on his website that at almost 80 years-old now he is no longer able to walk his route, but is still working and growing his business thanks to the internet.
There’s this strange confusion that exists for many about work; that it is a curse, a burden we must all bear until we finally reach retirement and can afford to stop working. But the virtue of industriousness redefines (or better, reclaims) what work really is.
Industriousness says that work is about starting and finishing tasks with diligence. With diligence? At first this sounds a bit compulsive, but consider what diligence means; “to love, to appreciate, to choose after careful consideration and attention.” Love through your work, appreciate through your work, and carefully consider and attend through your work.
The virtue of industriousness is about working to become, not just to acquire. And the virtue of industriousness insures that our work, in our professional lives and in our personal lives, will give us a sense of dignity and true self-worth.
Bill Porter did not have to “work,” in the narrowest sense of the word. He could have sat at home and collected disability checks. He had several built-in excuses. But he understood that he needed to work, not to survive but to thrive. So do we all. Work is the arena where all virtues can be developed, where we can change, and where we can change the world.
If you’re seeing work as a 40 hour a week grind, and part of a 40 year prison sentence, consider the industrious life of Bill Porter. And then truly get to work!
Questions for reflection:
What does “work” mean to you?
Who models the virtue of industriousness for you? How?
What is one thing you can begin doing to practice the virtue of industriousness?
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Sticks and stones: The virtue of compassion
"Compassionate action involves working with ourselves as much as working with others.”
-Pema Chodron
I just finished reading Rush Limbaugh’s apology to Sandra Fluke for calling her a “slut.” She is the law student who recently attempted to advocate for affordable health care coverage of contraception, he is the bombastic talk-show host who blew an opportunity to engage in meaningful dialogue about an important issue.
I’m glad he apologized, even if it was probably motivated by fleeing sponsors and growing public outrage. I wish ALL public figures, regardless of political affiliation, were held equally accountable for using hurtful, abusive, demeaning language (I’m thinking now of Bill Maher, who sits at the other end of the political spectrum and is equally reckless in his verbal tirades). Being intentionally hurtful is not a political issue, it’s a human issue.
Words matter. The average adult speaks 16,000 of them each and every day. Sixteen thousand! That’s a lot of talking, and a lot of communicating…and the two are not the same.
We speak the words, and we hear the words, but do we attend to the messages carried by the words; messages that build up, or tear down. And are we aware of how our words impact the world around us. One doesn’t need to have a radio or television show to feed a culture of cruelty or nurture a culture of compassion.
Compassion, literally translated, means “to suffer with.” Compassion as a virtue means that one suffers with, and then does something meaningful about trying to alleviate the suffering of another.
And choosing care-fully the words we use every day to describe others, express our thoughts and feelings to others, and work toward understanding others is a very good place to start practicing compassion. Because we cannot, will not, begin to meaningfully care about others if we are using words that distance ourselves from them…and from ourselves.
The natural response when we sense the pain of another is to try and help. But this will only happen if our own anger, grief, guilt, and shame hasn’t backed up on us. To be compassionate, to get close to another’s pain, we must also be addressing our own pain.
People who attack with words are aware (just enough) of how much hurt is inside them to be scared witless. And out of fear they choose hurtful words to gain a false sense of control, of power, of superiority. All it costs is decency.
“Compassionate action involves working with ourselves as much as working with others.”
“Sticks and stone may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” What a terrible, dangerous denial of reality that little rhyme is. Words used as weapons absolutely hurt you and me, and they hurt our culture.
And if we aren’t willing to control what comes out of our mouths, we won’t be able to offer much from our hearts.
Questions for reflection:
How have you used words to hurt?
Who models the virtue of compassion for you? How?
What is one thing you can begin doing to practice the virtue of compassion?
-Pema Chodron
I just finished reading Rush Limbaugh’s apology to Sandra Fluke for calling her a “slut.” She is the law student who recently attempted to advocate for affordable health care coverage of contraception, he is the bombastic talk-show host who blew an opportunity to engage in meaningful dialogue about an important issue.
I’m glad he apologized, even if it was probably motivated by fleeing sponsors and growing public outrage. I wish ALL public figures, regardless of political affiliation, were held equally accountable for using hurtful, abusive, demeaning language (I’m thinking now of Bill Maher, who sits at the other end of the political spectrum and is equally reckless in his verbal tirades). Being intentionally hurtful is not a political issue, it’s a human issue.
Words matter. The average adult speaks 16,000 of them each and every day. Sixteen thousand! That’s a lot of talking, and a lot of communicating…and the two are not the same.
We speak the words, and we hear the words, but do we attend to the messages carried by the words; messages that build up, or tear down. And are we aware of how our words impact the world around us. One doesn’t need to have a radio or television show to feed a culture of cruelty or nurture a culture of compassion.
Compassion, literally translated, means “to suffer with.” Compassion as a virtue means that one suffers with, and then does something meaningful about trying to alleviate the suffering of another.
And choosing care-fully the words we use every day to describe others, express our thoughts and feelings to others, and work toward understanding others is a very good place to start practicing compassion. Because we cannot, will not, begin to meaningfully care about others if we are using words that distance ourselves from them…and from ourselves.
The natural response when we sense the pain of another is to try and help. But this will only happen if our own anger, grief, guilt, and shame hasn’t backed up on us. To be compassionate, to get close to another’s pain, we must also be addressing our own pain.
People who attack with words are aware (just enough) of how much hurt is inside them to be scared witless. And out of fear they choose hurtful words to gain a false sense of control, of power, of superiority. All it costs is decency.
“Compassionate action involves working with ourselves as much as working with others.”
“Sticks and stone may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” What a terrible, dangerous denial of reality that little rhyme is. Words used as weapons absolutely hurt you and me, and they hurt our culture.
And if we aren’t willing to control what comes out of our mouths, we won’t be able to offer much from our hearts.
Questions for reflection:
How have you used words to hurt?
Who models the virtue of compassion for you? How?
What is one thing you can begin doing to practice the virtue of compassion?
Friday, February 24, 2012
When Wright is wrong: The virtue of tolerance
“Tolerance of intolerance is cowardice.”
-Ayaan Hirsi Ali
I received an invitation last week to attend a lecture at my former seminary given by Dr. Jeremiah Wright. This is the same Jeremiah Wright who was at one time Barack Obama’s pastor. But after years of listening to the anti-semitic, race-baiting, fear- mongering, shockingly insensitive remarks the President was finally moved to criticize Wright, and even resign his membership at the church, saying he was “saddened” and “outraged” by Wright’s behavior. Wright predictably blamed Obama’s decision on the Jews.
I responded to the invitation with an email asking for clarification about the nature and intention of the seminary. What was the purpose of bringing Dr. Wright on campus? How, I wondered, was this beneficial to anyone outside of Dr. Wright? Was he going to apologize at the outset for his years of intolerance? Was he going to be challenged about his teachings, and the consequences of his hate speech by his peers? Was he going to be held accountable at all? Or would he receive a tacit endorsement by the school in the form of a bully pulpit and a stipend.
I’m still waiting for a response. But whatever the answer, the whole incident has got me thinking about the virtue of tolerance.
Tolerance as a virtue is deeply connected to freedom, and defending the rights of the under-represented. Tolerance has rightly been identified with freedom of speech, freedom to dissent, freedom of the press, and religious freedoms.
Historically, intolerance has been about the powerful crushing, silencing, oppressing those who do not have as much power, economically, politically, religiously. And this threat certainly remains. But a more subtle yet equally deangerous threat to tolerance is growing in this politically correct, morally insecure society of ours; passivity.
Too often nowadays, what passes as “tolerance” is in reality a lazy acceptance of bad behavior. Maybe this is connected to guilt from past abuses against tolerance. Maybe this is connected to fear of being branded “intolerant.” Maybe it’s connected to an indifference about anything beyond one’s comfort zone. Maybe it’s connected to the false belief that progressive equals permissive. Maybe it’s all of the above. But the result is tolerance as a personality trait, instead of a virtue; a way of “getting along” instead of “getting better.”
“Tolerance of intolerance is cowardice.”
Is there anything you can’t, or more accurately shouldn’t tolerate? Is there any behavior you’d consider a serious enough threat to goodness that you simply cannot stay silent?
Is freedom only about what one can do, or is it also about what one should do? And what responsibility do you have to society?
You may have guessed by now that I am not a fan of Jeremiah Wright. I don’t like his angry, paranoid worldview. I don’t like his assaultive, abusive style. And I don’t like the ways he plays on the deepest fears of human beings. But the virtue of tolerance says he has the right to speak his mind and use his freedom however he chooses within the bounds of the law, and that this right should be protected whether I like it or not.
What tolerance does not say is that his malice should go unchallenged by reason, and truth, and love. And that his message of fear should be met with a shrug.
Tolerance is a virtue that protects against abuses of power. But it’s greatest enemy is weakness.
Question for reflection: Where do you see the virtue of tolerance being compromised?
-Ayaan Hirsi Ali
I received an invitation last week to attend a lecture at my former seminary given by Dr. Jeremiah Wright. This is the same Jeremiah Wright who was at one time Barack Obama’s pastor. But after years of listening to the anti-semitic, race-baiting, fear- mongering, shockingly insensitive remarks the President was finally moved to criticize Wright, and even resign his membership at the church, saying he was “saddened” and “outraged” by Wright’s behavior. Wright predictably blamed Obama’s decision on the Jews.
I responded to the invitation with an email asking for clarification about the nature and intention of the seminary. What was the purpose of bringing Dr. Wright on campus? How, I wondered, was this beneficial to anyone outside of Dr. Wright? Was he going to apologize at the outset for his years of intolerance? Was he going to be challenged about his teachings, and the consequences of his hate speech by his peers? Was he going to be held accountable at all? Or would he receive a tacit endorsement by the school in the form of a bully pulpit and a stipend.
I’m still waiting for a response. But whatever the answer, the whole incident has got me thinking about the virtue of tolerance.
Tolerance as a virtue is deeply connected to freedom, and defending the rights of the under-represented. Tolerance has rightly been identified with freedom of speech, freedom to dissent, freedom of the press, and religious freedoms.
Historically, intolerance has been about the powerful crushing, silencing, oppressing those who do not have as much power, economically, politically, religiously. And this threat certainly remains. But a more subtle yet equally deangerous threat to tolerance is growing in this politically correct, morally insecure society of ours; passivity.
Too often nowadays, what passes as “tolerance” is in reality a lazy acceptance of bad behavior. Maybe this is connected to guilt from past abuses against tolerance. Maybe this is connected to fear of being branded “intolerant.” Maybe it’s connected to an indifference about anything beyond one’s comfort zone. Maybe it’s connected to the false belief that progressive equals permissive. Maybe it’s all of the above. But the result is tolerance as a personality trait, instead of a virtue; a way of “getting along” instead of “getting better.”
“Tolerance of intolerance is cowardice.”
Is there anything you can’t, or more accurately shouldn’t tolerate? Is there any behavior you’d consider a serious enough threat to goodness that you simply cannot stay silent?
Is freedom only about what one can do, or is it also about what one should do? And what responsibility do you have to society?
You may have guessed by now that I am not a fan of Jeremiah Wright. I don’t like his angry, paranoid worldview. I don’t like his assaultive, abusive style. And I don’t like the ways he plays on the deepest fears of human beings. But the virtue of tolerance says he has the right to speak his mind and use his freedom however he chooses within the bounds of the law, and that this right should be protected whether I like it or not.
What tolerance does not say is that his malice should go unchallenged by reason, and truth, and love. And that his message of fear should be met with a shrug.
Tolerance is a virtue that protects against abuses of power. But it’s greatest enemy is weakness.
Question for reflection: Where do you see the virtue of tolerance being compromised?
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Finding the middle way: The virtue of moderation
“Moderation is the silken string running through the pearl chain of all virtues.”
-Joseph Hall
I read the painful news this week that an 18 year-old Tibetan Buddhist nun had set herself on fire, in protest of China’s policies toward Tibet. Three months ago another nun from the same monastery in the Sichuan Province set herself on fire as well, and died. In the past year, over a dozen Tibetan Buddhist nuns, monks, and lay people have self-immolated resulting in eleven deaths. And for what? The leader of the Tibetan Buddhists, the Dalai Lama himself, asked that very question. Certainly the Chinese government is unmoved, and the response from the world is some combination of pity, confusion, and revulsion.
The young woman undoubtedly believed her radical act would bring attention to the cause she’d dedicated her life to. And for 15 minutes it will. But it’s much more like the kind of attention generated by a car accident or a mudslide, than the kind of attention that brings good. Only virtue does that.
Extremism is not virtuous. Intentional self-injury is not virtuous. Desperation is not virtuous.
Virtue does call one to live radically, to live counter-culturally, to live a life of self-sacrifice. But audacity, courage, religion, zeal, and all the other virtues this young woman was attempting to live out cease being virtues if separated from the virtue of moderation.
Moderation is the silken string running through the pearl chain of all virtues.
Moderation is about balance; balance at work and balance at play, balance with self and balance with others, balance with food and balance with drink. It teaches one about healthy self-control and gentleness. It is the middle way, guiding the pursuit of goodness while avoiding extremes. It is the virtue that channels passion, and protects dignity.
And of course moderation is needed just as much in the West as it is in the East. Because these are desperate times everywhere, and in times of desperation people can easily lose their bearings. Their worlds get turned upside down, and in their pain and fear and anxiety they can make really poor choices.
See in yourself, at least something of that desperate 18 year-old nun in Tibet…the potential to hurt yourself and those around you in your struggle to find balance, and manage pain, and even do some good.
Practice moderation; it’s truly a radical statement.
Question for reflection: Do you feel like your life is balanced?
-Joseph Hall
I read the painful news this week that an 18 year-old Tibetan Buddhist nun had set herself on fire, in protest of China’s policies toward Tibet. Three months ago another nun from the same monastery in the Sichuan Province set herself on fire as well, and died. In the past year, over a dozen Tibetan Buddhist nuns, monks, and lay people have self-immolated resulting in eleven deaths. And for what? The leader of the Tibetan Buddhists, the Dalai Lama himself, asked that very question. Certainly the Chinese government is unmoved, and the response from the world is some combination of pity, confusion, and revulsion.
The young woman undoubtedly believed her radical act would bring attention to the cause she’d dedicated her life to. And for 15 minutes it will. But it’s much more like the kind of attention generated by a car accident or a mudslide, than the kind of attention that brings good. Only virtue does that.
Extremism is not virtuous. Intentional self-injury is not virtuous. Desperation is not virtuous.
Virtue does call one to live radically, to live counter-culturally, to live a life of self-sacrifice. But audacity, courage, religion, zeal, and all the other virtues this young woman was attempting to live out cease being virtues if separated from the virtue of moderation.
Moderation is the silken string running through the pearl chain of all virtues.
Moderation is about balance; balance at work and balance at play, balance with self and balance with others, balance with food and balance with drink. It teaches one about healthy self-control and gentleness. It is the middle way, guiding the pursuit of goodness while avoiding extremes. It is the virtue that channels passion, and protects dignity.
And of course moderation is needed just as much in the West as it is in the East. Because these are desperate times everywhere, and in times of desperation people can easily lose their bearings. Their worlds get turned upside down, and in their pain and fear and anxiety they can make really poor choices.
See in yourself, at least something of that desperate 18 year-old nun in Tibet…the potential to hurt yourself and those around you in your struggle to find balance, and manage pain, and even do some good.
Practice moderation; it’s truly a radical statement.
Question for reflection: Do you feel like your life is balanced?
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Crack pot: The virtue of sincerity
“Ring the bells that still can ring,
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.”
-Leonard Cohen
You know the saying that the cover-up is worse than the crime? This was certainly true in the world of pottery-making, in ancient Corinth. Pottery was big business and there was fierce competition for the almighty drachma.
The process always began with the same routine: The craftsman would form the clay into pottery, then fire the pottery in a kiln, and finally examine the finished product by holding it up to the light to look for any cracks that might have occurred in the firing. If none were found, the pottery was good to sell as “clean, authentic, high quality.” If cracks were found, the damaged pottery was supposed to be thrown away, and the process begun again.
However, less reputable pottery makers more interested in the bottom line then in being honest would take a different path. They’d notice the cracks that had formed during the baking process. But instead of disposing of the bad pottery, they’d fill in the cracks with wax, and then paint over the wax to further hide the imperfections.
To distinguish themselves, and the integrity of their product, the honest potters would hang a sign at the entrance of their shops that read, “Sincerus,” which literally means “without wax” This promised the customers that the handiwork was well-done, and that imperfections had not been covered up with wax and paint. The authentic pottery cost more because more had gone into its creation. But for those looking for quality and a greater long-term return on their investment, it was well worth it.
Sincerus.
Sincerity has always been about purity of intention, and trustworthiness, and genuineness. And like anything that is valauble, it will cost you.
Sincerity asks you to value truth more than appearances, so if you’re serious about acquiring it you’ll need to follow the example of the honest potter. Take the time to carefully examine your life in the light, and admit when you find cracks…dishonesty, pettiness, hypocrisy, envy, malice. And then start again.
Sincerity does not ask you to be perfect, but it does ask that you take responsibility for your imperfections, and do something about your imperfections. Care enough to walk the walk, and not just talk the talk.
I will stop cheating.
I will stop gossiping.
I will stop lying.
I will stop making promises I don’t intend to keep.
I will stop making excuses for my bad behavior.
Sincerus!
Practicing sincerity will take some effort, and discipline, and humility. And you won’t get it right away. Short term, it will feel easier to hide, cut corners, make excuses, and cover up the imperfections. But all this does is guarantee failure. Because in the pursuit of goodness, and integrity, and truth, the cover-up becomes the greater crime.
So leave the wax behind and decide to live differently… sincerely.
Question for reflection: What are the cracks in your life that you need to stop covering up, and start addressing with sincerity?
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.”
-Leonard Cohen
You know the saying that the cover-up is worse than the crime? This was certainly true in the world of pottery-making, in ancient Corinth. Pottery was big business and there was fierce competition for the almighty drachma.
The process always began with the same routine: The craftsman would form the clay into pottery, then fire the pottery in a kiln, and finally examine the finished product by holding it up to the light to look for any cracks that might have occurred in the firing. If none were found, the pottery was good to sell as “clean, authentic, high quality.” If cracks were found, the damaged pottery was supposed to be thrown away, and the process begun again.
However, less reputable pottery makers more interested in the bottom line then in being honest would take a different path. They’d notice the cracks that had formed during the baking process. But instead of disposing of the bad pottery, they’d fill in the cracks with wax, and then paint over the wax to further hide the imperfections.
To distinguish themselves, and the integrity of their product, the honest potters would hang a sign at the entrance of their shops that read, “Sincerus,” which literally means “without wax” This promised the customers that the handiwork was well-done, and that imperfections had not been covered up with wax and paint. The authentic pottery cost more because more had gone into its creation. But for those looking for quality and a greater long-term return on their investment, it was well worth it.
Sincerus.
Sincerity has always been about purity of intention, and trustworthiness, and genuineness. And like anything that is valauble, it will cost you.
Sincerity asks you to value truth more than appearances, so if you’re serious about acquiring it you’ll need to follow the example of the honest potter. Take the time to carefully examine your life in the light, and admit when you find cracks…dishonesty, pettiness, hypocrisy, envy, malice. And then start again.
Sincerity does not ask you to be perfect, but it does ask that you take responsibility for your imperfections, and do something about your imperfections. Care enough to walk the walk, and not just talk the talk.
I will stop cheating.
I will stop gossiping.
I will stop lying.
I will stop making promises I don’t intend to keep.
I will stop making excuses for my bad behavior.
Sincerus!
Practicing sincerity will take some effort, and discipline, and humility. And you won’t get it right away. Short term, it will feel easier to hide, cut corners, make excuses, and cover up the imperfections. But all this does is guarantee failure. Because in the pursuit of goodness, and integrity, and truth, the cover-up becomes the greater crime.
So leave the wax behind and decide to live differently… sincerely.
Question for reflection: What are the cracks in your life that you need to stop covering up, and start addressing with sincerity?
Friday, February 3, 2012
The blind side: The virtue of friendship
"Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence.”
-George Washington
If I asked you to name a quarterback who has played in the NFL, my guess is that even non-football fans could come up with someone: Joe Namath, Roger Staubach, Terry Bradshaw, Joe Montana, Brett Favre, Tom Brady, Eli Manning. But how many of you could name the offensive left tackles who guarded these quarterbacks’ “blind sides.” Right.
That’s because, fair or not, the quarterback gets most of the glory. The responsibility to score points is literally in his hands, so most games are as well.
As the game is played, the quarterback takes the ball and drops back time and again, while looking downfield for an open receiver to pass to. And he looks, and looks, and looks...and all the while the left tackle stands between him and disaster, protecting him from the violent rush of players coming from behind him and wanting to crush him. The quarterback may get the attention, but he’d be picking up his teeth much more often than wins if someone didn’t have his back.
Michael Lewis highlights this truth in The Blind Side, a good book that became an inspiring movie. But the story of Michael Oher, the young man who goes from poster child for youth-at-risk to NFL star, is about a lot more than football.
Oher had all the physical gifts in the world; massive size, herculean strength, and eye-popping agility. Yet he would have been lost if the Tuohys, his adoptive family, hadn’t taken an active interest in him, continued investing love and care in him, and provided a safe environment where he could develop and grow. Through friendship they had his “blind side.”
Becoming a successful human being, which is not the same thing as becoming wealthy, famous, or powerful, is essentially about relationships. And at the heart of relationships is the virtue of friendship.
It takes a great deal to be a friend. Yet, the common perception continues to be that if you have fun with someone, you’re friends. If you have things in common with someone, you’re friends. If you’re attracted to someone, you’re friends. Friendships apparently demand about as much effort as clicking “accept” on a Facebook invitation.
This, of course, is a recipe for disaster.
“Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence.”
Friendship, like any virtue, takes time to develop. It can and should include fun, and common interests, and attraction. But it’s about a lot more than that.
Friendship, true and personal connection that lasts, is always about giving and receiving; practicing and learning how to be trustworthy with another, how to be responsive with another, how to be caring with another, and how to be truthful with another.
But to really understand the virtue of friendship, begin by acting like an offensive left tackle and focus on the blind side coverage.
Question for reflection: Who’s got your back?
-George Washington
If I asked you to name a quarterback who has played in the NFL, my guess is that even non-football fans could come up with someone: Joe Namath, Roger Staubach, Terry Bradshaw, Joe Montana, Brett Favre, Tom Brady, Eli Manning. But how many of you could name the offensive left tackles who guarded these quarterbacks’ “blind sides.” Right.
That’s because, fair or not, the quarterback gets most of the glory. The responsibility to score points is literally in his hands, so most games are as well.
As the game is played, the quarterback takes the ball and drops back time and again, while looking downfield for an open receiver to pass to. And he looks, and looks, and looks...and all the while the left tackle stands between him and disaster, protecting him from the violent rush of players coming from behind him and wanting to crush him. The quarterback may get the attention, but he’d be picking up his teeth much more often than wins if someone didn’t have his back.
Michael Lewis highlights this truth in The Blind Side, a good book that became an inspiring movie. But the story of Michael Oher, the young man who goes from poster child for youth-at-risk to NFL star, is about a lot more than football.
Oher had all the physical gifts in the world; massive size, herculean strength, and eye-popping agility. Yet he would have been lost if the Tuohys, his adoptive family, hadn’t taken an active interest in him, continued investing love and care in him, and provided a safe environment where he could develop and grow. Through friendship they had his “blind side.”
Becoming a successful human being, which is not the same thing as becoming wealthy, famous, or powerful, is essentially about relationships. And at the heart of relationships is the virtue of friendship.
It takes a great deal to be a friend. Yet, the common perception continues to be that if you have fun with someone, you’re friends. If you have things in common with someone, you’re friends. If you’re attracted to someone, you’re friends. Friendships apparently demand about as much effort as clicking “accept” on a Facebook invitation.
This, of course, is a recipe for disaster.
“Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence.”
Friendship, like any virtue, takes time to develop. It can and should include fun, and common interests, and attraction. But it’s about a lot more than that.
Friendship, true and personal connection that lasts, is always about giving and receiving; practicing and learning how to be trustworthy with another, how to be responsive with another, how to be caring with another, and how to be truthful with another.
But to really understand the virtue of friendship, begin by acting like an offensive left tackle and focus on the blind side coverage.
Question for reflection: Who’s got your back?
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