Caffeinated by a King or The Joy of Getting Over Yourself

What do you think when you hear this phrase? "Oh, just get over yourself!" Does it offend your deep sense of individual entitlement, the petting of ego that most Westerners are so accustomed to? Or is it liberating?

This morning, as I was reading and trying to hear from God, I felt like he said just that, albeit in nicer terms: "Get over yourself, David, and onto me, onto others, and you'll find more of what you need." I love it when he does that--you know--the counter-intuitive "I'm God, so I can say things that normally wouldn't make sense but they actually do 'cause I said them" way of going about things. Yes, some of you know exactly what I'm talking about and are smiling as you read this.

Anyhow, as I thought about this more, dialoguing with God in my head and heart, I began to taste freedom and joy.

"Freedom from what?" you may ask.

Having just moved across the United States to one of the biggest, craziest cities in America, there has been a lot of self-reflection and focus on getting my needs met. This is quite natural for anyone who has just moved somewhere, as there's a lot to think about pertaining to self: "How can I get this setup? Where can I plug into community? How long will it be 'til I feel settled here? Am I investing in the right activities and the right people? Is this or that a proper use of my time?" I, I, I, my, my my. Makes sense, right? There's nothing wrong with being there for awhile. But to stay there...oh, to stay in that self-focused state, that's the trap.

Before I moved here, in asking God for any strategies that might be helpful in getting settled, here's what I sensed him telling me. It caught me by surprise: "David, when you get to New York, don't think about how you can find community for yourself. Instead, think about how you can create community for others, and in that, you'll find what you need."

Wow. Total Jesus-Yoda moment (of course, he didn't phrase it in "Community you shall find, when community you make" but you get the idea). And I was thinking about this further this morning. The more that we focus on self, the more we become concerned with our own personal lack, and it's easy to forget about serving others. On the flip-side, as we serve others, we can begin to get our minds off of our own felt-needs, find a new level of release from those needs, and hopefully realize our needs getting met in the context of community as we seek to meet the needs of others.

Paul said it this way in a letter he wrote to this church in a city called Philippi: "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. -Philippians 2:3-4 ESV

(Funny enough, this was the verse of the day on a site I visit often called "Bible Gateway." It seems there's a theme to this day.)

"Count others more significant than yourselves?" Really? I have read this verse multiple times before, and it always challenges me. But when I get down to the brass tacks of it, it make sense. I remember a very talented musician and speaker in a church I was a part of once breaking this down saying that if we were really mostly concerned about meeting the needs of others in the context of intentional, loving community, then no one would really need to worry about his or her needs getting met, and everyone would be covered. (Thank you, Shae Cottar. This has stuck with me for years, now.)

I think the problem comes when we begin to think about how community, God, or the world at large might fail us if we do just that, as it kind of takes the "other," whoever that other might be, in order to make this work. And we've all experienced the failure of others, right? Likewise, we know all too well our own propensity to drop the ball when it comes to serving someone else.

But what if we didn't have to fear? What if---let's say, we could take our focus off of ourselves in such a way that we could really make life more about serving someone else above our own interests, KNOWING with FULL CONFIDENCE that our needs would be cared for. (I am not advocating an abdication of personal responsibility or a lack of awareness of our individual role to play in our own lives. I take that as a given as responsible adults. I'm rather trying to combat an extreme.) What if we could rely on something or someone totally reliable, knowing we'd be taken care of every single time?

Some of you can see where I'm going with this, and I don't mean for this to come off as some sort of bait-and-switch blog post. My destination of thought, however, is that God is the one who can and will meet our needs if we let him, and he'll even use other people, unreliable, fickle others to do so as we get our focus off of ourselves and onto him and others. I've experienced this time and again.

Jesus, addressing a crowd of worriers who had even more immediate reason to worry about their needs being met than most of us do, said,

"So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." -Matthew 6:31-34

Note the word "kingdom." Jesus speaks about seeking the KINGDOM of God, which in my mind denotes two things: there is a king in this domain (king-dom...king's domain), and there is a community, the kingdom. What is a king and a king's domain without subjects to enjoy in that domain? So as we are seeking first this kingdom (and the righteousness that Jesus speaks of), I think it is a call of liberation, to focus on God, the King, who is the true center of all things and on building up others in that kingdom. If we are centered on God and on others, we are properly oriented. If, however, we make ourselves the center, how disorienting that can be! (Most of us can't even sustain the same emotional center through the span of a day by our own volition. So how could we ever act as our own anchor?)

If that word "righteousness" in the above quote throws you off any or causes you more anxiety by putting the focus back on yourself and how "you need to be more righteous," I would hope allay your concern by suggesting that even that issue is covered by the one who calls us to focus on himself. It's my belief that Jesus calls us to focus on the kingdom of God and his righteousness as a call to relief, since it is after all HIS righteousness that we are to seek, not something originating from ourselves.

It's like a free cup of chai. He made it, it originates with him, yet we have to seek it, put out our hand and drink it in as he willingly offers it to us daily. (Yeah, I had to throw the chai reference in there. You were wondering when that might come, weren't you?) And when you think about it that way, who can make the better chai, you or him? (I must admit, I make a really nice home-brewed chai, so that can be a hard metaphor for me if I think about it too literally. But Jesus IS the chai and the one who introduced me to it, so I know he'd win the contest, hands-down--my hands. He'll do the work.)

So what are we waiting for? I wonder what will happen today as the result of putting others before ourselves, focusing on a king, his kingdom, and his way of doing things...Kingdom Caffeination, baby!

Pain, Progress, and The Scarlet Pimpernel

In all great epics, some tragedy of immense proportion is required in order for the hero or heroine to achieve their final victory. In fact, it seems as though the greater the loss and trial that the protagonists face, the greater and sweeter is their reward in the end.

This was my consolation this afternoon as I was musing upon the grief that has come to steadily visit me in regular intervals over the past two months or so, a grief that continually causes me to beg the questions, "When will this end, and why is it so darn hard?"

I was reading The Scarlet Pimpernel earlier today, the classic novel upon which my all-time favorite musical of the same name is based, and as I was reading and pondering the difficulties that Percy Blakeney must overcome, it was as if God spoke to me, saying, "All great heroes experience a crucible of soul and spirit, and it makes for a better story in the end. So also with you."

Do I presume to be a hero? Well not yet necessarily, but I will say that with my romantic notions of the world and my place within it, I have always wanted to be a hero and aspired to lead a revolution which brings freedom to many who are suffering at the hands of injustice, be it cultural, personal, or otherwise. I want my life to truly count for something, to live an epic adventure and to lead others in securing victory on behalf of others, much like Percy and his valiant league in The Scarlet Pimpernel. But that requires risk, and with risk, loss...and with loss, the hope and tenacity to press forward.

Is the pain always worth the favorable outcome that may not come 'til the very end of the story? Is the chapter of suspense, mistaken understandings, or downright despair worth the pages of glory and valor that are to follow? I must believe it. I do believe it. What we stand to gain must be worth the pain. Sometimes the pain we endure in a tough situation is the only way to enlarge our capacity for what's coming next...or what's coming forth.

This has certainly been true in my life. In my five years of living in Chicago, I have experienced some of the most remarkable victories, and the intensity of joy that I experienced was matched by the intensity of pain that I felt either before or after those victories were had. Two of them were

-Relocating from a smaller (albeit healthy) theatrical climate in Houston to a much larger theatrical city, Chicago, with far more opportunities for me as a playwright.

-Producing the world premiere of my original musical, "Master of Dreams," as work seven years in the making.

These two victories were the hardest feats I have ever accomplished, the strains of which tested the mettle of my very soul to show me what God has made me of...and where I am still in dire need of his assistance. Yet in all of the prodding, testing, and stretching, they added to me skills and strengths that will make me even more effective for larger feats to come. This was certainly true when producing my first professional show, a kids musical entitled "King David: LIVE!" While I came up to Chicago wanting to produce Master of Dreams first, I could never produced a show of that scale without first cutting my teeth on a smaller production (a cast of 3 versus a cast of 7, very little set and budget compared with a larger set, theatre, and budget, and so forth). I'm confident that God knows what we need to get to the next thing, and we can't skip out on what's in between. This often includes pain.

If there is any doubt remaining in regard to the worth of present and necessary pain to produce something greater, Jesus' words to his disciples in a time of their grief seem relevant:

"Truly, truly, I say to you, that you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice; you will grieve, but your grief will be turned into joy. Whenever a woman is in labor she has pain, because her hour has come; but when she gives birth to the child, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy that a child has been born into the world. Therefore you too have grief now; but I will see you again, and your heart will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you."
-John 16:20-22

I love that. Who can relate to the rest of the world rejoicing while you weep? And to times of grief finally turning into joy? The day always comes. The pain has the potential to enlarge one's capacity. And in the best cases, something new and eternal is born which brings a joy that will not be taken away like the rest.

In the words of The Scarlet Pimpernel,

"Someone has to face the valley,
Rush in, we have to rally and win, boys!
When the world is saying not to,
By God, you know you've got to march on boys!

Never hold back your step for a moment!
Never doubt that your courage will grow!
Hold you head even higher and into the fire we go!"

(From The Scarlet Pimpernel: The New Musical Adventure,
Words by Nan Knighton, Music by Frank Wildhorn)