Hating Life, part 3

Since preaching, I've been wondering more specifically about how well my generation of "Christians" is doing at hating our lives, particularly in those three categories of obedience, service, and planning. It's always tricky overgeneralizing and stereotyping like I'm about to do, as there will always be at least one anecdote to prove things wrong. But these are some casual observations of trends from one who lives within them.

In planning, young people are bit unusual. We've watched our grandparents and parents plan perfectly and stay in the same house in the same town at the same job all their lives. At points, they look a bit miserable or at least a little bored, so we're hesitant to take their advice when they try to tell us a thing or two about prudent planning. We can't make up our minds and look a bit bewildered when faced with monumental decisions. Rapid paces of technological and societal advancement tell us we can't predict the future, so why bother planning? We live in the moment and let the winds of change blow us wherever they please.

On the surface, then, we look willing to submit our plans to God, but maybe that's only because we have no significant plans that we're invested in, and we would not be foolish to pursue a little more diligence in thinking toward the future more often.

All of this is one reason why Erica's and my plan for France is daunting for us and friends our age; departure is a couple of years away, and then there's three years of language and cultural acquisition, and then we get to work?! I'm finally getting to the point where departing in a year and nine months seems really soon, but I recently shared that with someone else our age and she said, "Two years?! That's really far away!"

In service and generosity, most of us are disillusioned with the American dream. We're well aware of materialism and consumerism, and we like to complain about it in philosophical discussions. Capitalism is what's ruined this country, after all. That makes us sound like we don't care about money, so it might make us sound like we're pretty generous too. Is it true? This one's a little harder to pinpoint, but part of me thinks we tell ourselves we don't care about money just so that we don't have to be diligent in doing the planning it takes to make money. Our fathers and grandfathers kept their jobs for 30 years in order to make money. Thirty years sounds like a long and miserable amount of time, so if we tell ourselves we don't care about the money, we won't have to do it.

I'd say we have great potential to be generous, because we are close to having the underlying ideologies of simplicity. But so far, I'd venture to say we're just as selfish as the next person. We like to get and hold on to our "stuff" just as much; we just have more trickier arguments and discussions that excuse it.

In order to get to France, Erica and I have to raise a lot of support. That means people are going to have to give us money. Our generation hates this idea. Why? Probably because, ultimately, we don't want to give our money away. So we dress it up and say all missionaries should be "tent-makers" because "that's what Paul did," and while I don't dismiss those ideas lightly at all, I'm wondering if we say that so the missionaries can earn their keep and we can keep our earnings. But, I'm slowly coming around to the idea myself: could it be that God doesn't mind some of his believers giving generously so that others can devote themselves and all of their time to his ministry?

Finally, obedience. Plain and simple, we are awful at obedience. We've labeled anyone who preaches about obedience a legalist and a Pharisee. We've grown up hearing, "You don't know me," and "You can't judge me," and "Who are you to tell me what to do?" We have a horrible time responding to authority, and we hate being told what to do. So we have more philosophical discussions about judging others and legalism and the authority of scripture (everything's cultural! everything's relative!), all of which have some validity, but the underlying motivation is really that we want to live however we want to live. We love our lives. We call ourselves followers of Christ without actually following him. We're attempting to have our cake and eat it too, as they say.

James Montgomery Boice said it better than I could:
"For some reason the idea is current today that, because God is gracious and loving, a Christian can therefore enjoy the fullness of God’s blessing without at the same time accepting the full lordship of the Lord Jesus Christ in his or her life. This is not biblical. Those who have convinced themselves of this ignore God’s laws. They disregard his instructions about the permanency of marriage, for instance. They ignore his instructions about continuing to meet together with other Christians. They do not live by the highest of moral standards. So they are not happy, and they do not know why. Well this is why. They have not died to their own desires in order that they might live for Christ. They have not been crucified with him. They have not obeyed him. Jesus may be their Savior, but he is not truly their Lord.

It is not pleasant to be crucified, I know. But you will never truly live in the full spiritual sense until you are. Losing your life means you must be willing to do anything for Christ if he directs it. It will not be a sad and gloomy thing either. Do not think that. The sad thing is to disobey him. To obey is a joy."

And so, your turn. Am I right or wrong?

There's one more part coming to this little mini-series of a post.