On having your cake and eating it too...

From page 18 of the tiny hardcover version of Tim Keller's Counterfeit Gods:

God saw Abraham's sacrifice and said, "Now I know that you love me, because you did not withhold your only son from me." But how much more can we look at his sacrifice on the Cross, and say to God, "Now, we know that you love us. For you did not withhold your son, your only son, whom you love, from us."

Am I the only one in the universe who downplays that? Am I the only one who diminishes the sacrifice a little, believing that the sacrifice for me personally on the cross isn't as great as the sacrifice Abraham faced?

Isaac was Abraham's and was a sacrifice to God. Jesus was God's and was a sacrifice to us- to the billions of us. I think I'm not alone when I excuse myself from true faith because I see the sacrifice as a small piece of a huge pie that was disbursed to the world rather than an entire sacrifice for me personally. If my part in the sacrifice is just one slice, my life is not all that important, and so if I don't read my Bible today, or even if I ignore God entirely, that's ok because it's just a slice. It's like I'm Jesus' baby toe. Sure, it would suck to lose a baby toe, but it's not nearly as important as other parts, like, say, the heart.

But that's exactly it. If God knows all the birds by name, then He knows me, and if He knows me, the sacrifice was personal. If I was the only human, would the sacrifice have occurred? Probably, if not eventually. The sacrifice didn't occur because God decided that He wanted the important people in heaven and this was the only politically correct means to the end. It occurred because I, as any other, am broken beyond self-repair.

So what if I am not an infinitely small slice of some universally disbursed pie?

It's a heart issue. To whom, or to what, does my heart belong? The worst case scenario is that it belongs to me and me alone. What kind of heart would that be? And if it wasn't mine, if it belonged to somebody or to a thing, is that somebody or thing really of greater importance than God?

Or maybe my heart's just fearful. Maybe I'm afraid to actually mean something to somebody. Maybe it's more comfortable to be a nobody. But then if God created me and knows me better than I will ever know myself, wouldn't He be what's most comfortable? If God created me and delights in me, wouldn't I already be a somebody, regardless of my self-perception?

So I'm not Jesus' pinky toe.

At worst, I am His whole body, the suffering and the pain.

At best, I am His heart.

And if I'm His heart, shouldn't He have mine?

On idols and ambition...

In the introduction to Counterfeit Gods, Tim Keller asks two questions that caught my attention.
1.What is the thing that makes us think, “If I have that, then I'll feel my life has meaning, then I'll know I have value, then I'll feel significant and secure”?
2.What do I fear the most? What, if I lost it, would make life not worth living?

The first, he says, is found in our daydreams. The second, in our nightmares.

At first glance, it seems that these questions are good for us. They're good questions to ask in order to figure out what our idols are, and in what temporary and fleeting things we place our value. I've been trying to figure out my idols a lot lately, partly because I'm trying to figure out why it is that I feel worthless at a basal level. Obviously, if I feel worthless than the things I derive my value from are failing miserably. So what are they?

One thing Matt Chandler whipped out during a sermon he gave a couple weeks ago was that comparison is an idol. It hadn't occurred to me that needing to rate yourself on a scale based on those around you would be a way to derive value, but it's actually a fairly obvious one once you notice it. I do compare myself. Often. If I'm not failing as miserably as somebody I know, then I'm more ok than I would be had I had nobody to compare myself against. The problem with that arises when I surround myself with people who excel at everything I fail at. Suddenly, when surrounded by a successful entourage, my worth diminishes at an astonishing rate.

But what are the things I daydream of? What are the things I imagine will bring me happiness? See, this is where it fails for me. I know most people probably dream of some sort of career or money or stuff or even a relationship, and those dreams make these questions easier to answer. But me? I dream of adventures. I dream of losing everything and being forced to make do with my own survival skills, if I actually have any. I dream of getting married and hating it. I dream of an impossible relationship in which I have the upper hand. I dream of intense suffering along with intense passion. But when I dream, they're more like glimpses of the impossible or highly improbable, rather than dreams of things I aspire to have or experience. They're just short stories in my head.

And my worst nightmare? I don't even know. I'm afraid of so much in my conscious life- heights, throwing up, drowning, rape, spiders... So much. But my worst nightmare? What do I feel life would be impossible to live without? I'd like to say my strength but even that is not mine. Even that is God's gift to me. I didn't do anything to cultivate my strength. I didn't choose it. Through a series of events, some of which were unbelievably painful, I endured, and that's not something I can take credit for. Even before I knew God, I knew the strength I had and in some circumstances, the help I had without asking, were gifts. I knew I was lucky somehow. So by the grace of God am I strong, both physically and mentally, but they're not really things I can possess to lose. I do know that it's hard for me to ask for help and so a potential nightmare would be to have to rely on people, but even that would be an extension of my comfort zone, which is something I strive to do with everything anyway.

But if I don't dream and I have no real nightmares then what is it that makes me feel worthless? What is it that is failing to give me value?

And on the other hand, if everybody were to give up the satisfaction and value they seek in their endeavors, what would ambition look like? Would we have any at all?

I'm not particularly ambitious. At this current crossroads of unemployment, that is one thing that is in my way- the lack of drive towards any particular goal or direction. If I don't need a career to give me value, what motivates me to find one at all rather than just a job?

Or as an entirely different analogy, if I don't need to wear the latest fashion to feel beautiful, what drives me to spend that kind of money, time and effort on it?

In other words, if the things we idolize are essentially good things and there is nothing wrong with striving for them, where does the boundary between healthy pursuit and obsession lie? What is healthy pursuit? Is it simply in the reasons for which we pursue things? If we are driven and ambitious and say we're trying to glorify God in our endeavors is that healthy? And on the flip side, where is the line between giving up idols and just plain giving up?

The other concern I have is looking at people who turn their obsessions over to God also seem to end up in a certain level of poor mental health. In particular, I'm thinking of the girl who feels the need to save everybody. Her every word is Jesus-related. Her life revolves around Jesus and from several pastors' messages, that would seem the ideal, but to be in her presence is to sense this enormous defect. It's this deep-seeded loneliness that she drowns out with missions and God. She uses God as an idol, rather than as the true God deserving of worship, if that makes any sense. It leads a person to wonder if she actually does believe or if she just uses the role of a Christian to give herself worth. And the worst part about it is the day she realizes it's not working is the day she will lose God entirely, even though He's not actually the one she's worshiping.

Are we capable of healthy pursuit? Or are we better off seeking balance instead?

When I was studying Scripture intensely and listening to upwards of forty hours of sermons a week, I did start to feel unbalanced. Even a pursuit of God can turn into an unhealthy obsession. Lately, I've been taking it easy and focusing on prayer, just to take a break, even things out. I feel I need balance, but supposedly, I don't when it comes to the pursuit of God and I don't get that.

How will we be of any use if we are so specialized in one train of thought? I've always been a believer of John Stuart Mill's idea of a university providing a universal education, and in this time, we're striving for specialization more and more, going after double PhDs and whatnot in one very particular domain and that, Mill says, makes us less useful to the humans around us and the world around us than if we had chosen to learn a little of everything. What good is having a passion for God if you aren't well-rounded enough to be able to present it in such a way that anybody can benefit from it? We do need balance. We need balance to be effective in most things.

So what is healthy pursuit?
What is ambition without idols?
What is motivation without dreams?

Ever since I lost my job, I've been trying to figure out what my dreams are in an effort to give me some sort of direction, some sort of drive towards a future that won't suck the soul out of me. I'm not looking for fulfillment, per se- I just want to be able to get out of bed in the morning. I want to be passionate about what I do. But what kind of career path will I end up facing if I am not allowed to dream or if dreaming is idolatry? How are we supposed to be effective if we're not supposed to be driven by our passions?

How are we supposed to feel alive when we aren't using our gifts to their utmost? If we are given these gifts and no outlet by which to make use of them, then why were we given them at all?

Therein lies my idol, I guess. I can't find what it is that allows me to use everything I have. And that makes me feel useless. That's why I want one particular multi-faceted job so badly and dread getting called by all the others, even though I do need a job- any job- and should be grateful for any calls I get.

Instead of wanting a job where I can be useful, I want a job where I feel useful.

But again, without passionate things to strive for, what becomes the motivation to strive at all? Shouldn't we be happy with the bare minimum? Where does the ambition come from if not from false hope and the empty promises we pretend these things hold for us?

What does healthy pursuit without idolatry look like?

I guess I have to finish the book...