courtesy of Arathon

Sunday, September 12, 2010

a train of thought

Today's sermon was on Matthew 5:27-30, which is part of Jesus's famous declaration that our murderous, adulterous, idolatrous thoughts themselves are sinful. This particular part is dealing with adultery, but also throws in the sweeping and disturbing declaration that we ought to have regular body-part-chucking competitions (if you're a guy and this sounds like the coolest sport you've ever heard of, please, please, please... don't think the ladies will be impressed at the next church picnic by your holy combo of unmatched arm strength and zeal for the Lord).

Now, I'm not an exegete. I did take a look at a number of different translations, including some Portuguese translations, and I will say this: every one I saw used some form of the word "make" or "cause" in verses 29 and 30. Which is to say, it seems that whatever words Jesus actually used, the thrust of His comment can probably be safely summarized as "if a part of your body causes you to sin, get rid of it."

So, the first car on this train (and remember, once a train gets started, it's pretty hard to stop, so if your car stalls on the track, grab the baby from the backseat and run - don't spent those thirty seconds praying that God will refill your gas tank like He did the widow's jar of oil!) is my (perhaps not all that novel) interpretation that Jesus chose the word "cause" for the very reason that it invalidated right off the bat the idea that He intended anyone to self-mutilate. Jesus makes it pretty clear at other times that the fault for our sin lies at the feet of our idolatrous hearts (okay, terrible metaphor, sorry!), not at the doorstep (again, I apologize) of circumstances, other people, or our raging hormones. When Jesus says "if your eye causes you to sin," I suspect He intended to subtly remind us that our hands are NEVER the cause for our sin.

Okay, so if you'll grant that interpretation (or if you won't, but will agree that He didn't mean it literally, or even if you disagree entirely but are a masochist... or if you just really like trains?), move with me into the business class carriage. Here we find ourselves wondering, gosh, haven't there been people over the years who have actually sliced off parts of their bodies (guys, don't tell me you didn't have at least one moment of terror as a teenager over this verse) because they believed this was a literal commandment? Now, none of us would accuse Jesus of being careless with words, and yet... do we not generally consider that love for one's neighbor involves taking a reasonable amount of care that what we say will not give occasion for anyone else to be confused or to commit sin? How much more so if you are the Lord of the Universe, knowing full well the foolishness of humans, and even knowing the future itself, so that the effects your words will have are already written in your mind before you say them? You may argue that, no matter what He said, Jesus was bound to be misunderstood, and He could not simply remain silent on that account. But that is not a valid reductio ad absurdum - certain things Christ said cannot be misinterpreted but by the hardest of hearts, while others frankly beg for the budding convert to seize upon incorrectly, foolishly, and with greatest zeal.

Then what? On to the coach class, where most of us spend most of our time. Shall we agree with the Catholics that "the fuller sense of the Bible can be found in the authoritative interpretation of [the]... authorities" - i.e., that it best to check with the Church before coming to a final conclusion about what the Scriptures mean? This seems insufficient - the apostles and prophets, not to mention Jesus Himself, are recorded as speaking directly to the common people on a regular basis, and we should not assume that this was done merely as a convenience, or for the sake of 'the public record.' If not that, then what?
It certainly seems to me as though this passage can only be rightly interpreted in the light of the rest of Scripture (whereby we learn that our hearts are the issue, and that constantly reorienting ourselves - loving - our Creator is the only way to live a good and righteous life that is free from all sin). This is an ideal that gets bandied about a good deal these days within the circles in which I run (ha, take that, sneaky prepositions!), but I don't think we take it all that seriously, because it posits a frank impossibility that we're reluctant (or entirely unwilling) to acknowledge - namely, that no matter our wisdom, brilliance, learning, and love for God, we will never be 100% certain about what all of Scripture says, because to know any one part of it requires that you know all the other parts. This is, at the very least, an impossibility within a non-infinite lifetime (it's really a study in mathematical limits, if you think about it - and don't you go inventing a theological calculus!).

Also, because coach is usually cramped and longer than the other parts of the train, I want to come back to the question of how we use words. I have often thought that part of our imperfection was our inability to accurately gauge how our actions will end up affecting our world. That is, if I were wiser, more careful, etc., I would have known that using that particular word would cause someone to think my tone was negative, thus encouraging them to respond negatively, etc., etc., usually spiraling into rage and violence about whether or not D minor really is the saddest of all keys. This passage, however, seems to indicate otherwise. Jesus knew that some people would be foolish (I don't mean this pejoratively) enough to cut off body parts in order to keep His commandments, and though this isn't what He intended, and probably brought Him no pleasure at all despite their well-intentioned attempt to obey the letter of His law, He chose His words carefully, with nothing but love for His hearers (both present and throughout the ages). And yet, it was not His intent to somehow choose His words in a such a way as to manipulate the hearers into following a certain path. Though He could, no doubt, have said exactly what was necessary to manipulate each individual hearer into doing His will, He never attempted any such thing.

We have arrived at the caboose - which indicates to you that the end is near, and is one of the most fun words in the English language (go ahead - say it out loud a few times! I can wait). Manipulation is a way of life for us. Whether in malice or in love, we nearly always choose our words and actions based on how we believe others will react to them. Sometimes it is blatant - I figure that if I offer to wash the dishes in front of the guests, my sister will choose to be gracious and offer to do them herself, allowing me to both look good and get away without having to do any work. Other times, it is a less selfish calculation that determines that the best way to invite someone to talk about Jesus is to pretend as though He isn't really that important to me, so that they won't be scared off by my crazy religious fervor (ha!). Whatever it is, though, it's never done out of true love - God Himself never gives us any indication that His communications with us are intended to fool us into doing what He wishes. What's more, any manipulative actions are performed with, at the very least, the (self-absorbed, and therefore not necessarily conscious) belief that we are (in at least some small way) mentally superior to and/or more crafty than the one we're manipulating, and usually also 2) an idolatrous attitude toward the desired goal and 3) a lack of trust that whatever we can bring about through a more honest and transparent approach to our neighbors is going to somehow be sufficient to accomplish God's (or our) purposes.

There's a lot more that could be said about who and how we manipulate (children -> parents, parents -> children, woo-er -> woo-ee, spouse <-> spouse, etc.), not to mention my proposed solution to my manipulative ways, but this train of thought is already too long to even leave the station, so I'd better get my fat butt off so that those of you who actually needed to get somewhere can be on your way!

Wednesday, September 01, 2010

We've Been Down This Path Before

...and we always seem to end up getting tired, coming back, and forgetting that we ever tried.

But productivity is an elusive goal, these days. The pursuit of productivity is marred by laziness (the under-utilization of attention capital, e.g., I have this extra time - I'll watch some TV), procrastination (the over-utilization of attention debt, e.g., "I'm too busy, so I'll learn/do that tomorrow" -- and yes, it leads to attention deficit, as you already guessed), perfectionism (e.g., "I can't do anything else until I'm done with this" -- or, just as bad, "I won't start this, because I'll never be able to do it well enough").

I don't have time to write this blog post. I won't write it well, and in the process I'll probably spend too much time trying to polish it into something 'worth' posting. Still, it's time to do something.

Gmail just introduced Priority Inbox. At first, I was inclined to ignore it - after all, I have my system, and it works well enough. But, being susceptible to the allure of the latest, greatest technology (especially from the G-people), I decided to see what it could do. As it turns out, I like it. I have, for a long time, consistently maintained fewer than ten read emails in my inbox at any given time, with those ten basically representing whatever things I've received that will eventually require some sort of time/effort to deal with. However, these things do tend to pile up, and the more important ones get lost at the bottom of that stack just like everything else. Also, I generally have Starred emails in order to provide a special visual reminder that they're important, but this tends to lose its impact fairly quickly.

This is probably where I should mention Inbox Zero, the strategy a very process-savvy friend of mine> uses and brought up when I started talking about this today over Buzz. I think his flavor of this strategy makes a lot of sense (using Stars for followup/future reference but always Archiving immediately after reading), and I wish I could use it myself, but the reason this is not currently a possibility for me is that I don't have consistent access to anything but pen and paper during the workday, meaning that I either have to manage my task list in my brain (with help from whatever emails I may or may not have in my Inbox regarding those less-pressing tasks that I would be prone to forget), or use pen-and-paper or some solution equally undesirable because of its incompatibility with the digital age that I live a large portion of my life in.

Inbox Zero and its arguable brilliance aside, here's my strategy for configuring (and then USING) Priority Inbox to increase my productivity.

What I do not plan on getting out of Priority Inbox: Time savings later on. Why? Email in an inbox is inherently hard to scan, and even when properly categorized, you have to rescan each email individually for it to remind you of anything. Just because my inbox is now divided into
  1. Important AND Unread,
  2. Starred,
  3. Important, and
  4. Everything Else
doesn't somehow magically let me know what email I should be re-reading right now in order to inform me what my next efforts should be directed toward. Often, an email gets a Star and sits in my Inbox precisely because I know I won't be able to do anything about it for at least a week, and I figure I'll forget about it if I don't leave it there to remind me later.

What I do plan on getting out of Priority Inbox: A reason to ask my brain to do more of the work as soon as I receive the email. When an email arrives, Gmail will do its best to decide if it is Important or not. If it isn't, the email will fall all the way to the bottom of my Inbox, even though there are read emails sitting above it. If I can trust Google to guess correctly, I can now safely ignore that email entirely until such a time as I choose to go through my unimportant email and deal with it. If, on the other hand, the email is marked as Important, I should probably read it now. If the email was indeed worthy of my immediate attention, I will leave it marked as Important - otherwise, it will be marked Unimportant. If the email requires a response of some sort that I am unable to provide immediately, I will leave it in my inbox - otherwise, it will be Archived. If the required action is of considerable effort, I will Star it (thus providing a visual indicator of how many heavy-duty items are on the list).

The other thing I want to discuss here is Gmail Labels - something I've used because they were like folders (and because Filters made them easy to apply automatically) but have applied poorly and used very infrequently. Today's thoughts about Priority Inbox have helped me decide on a better use of Labels. Again, the theory is that it is best to ask my brain to manually categorize an email as soon as it arrives (using, of course, keyboard shortcuts to make the process bearably fast). The categories, though, are the issue - what rises to the level of a category? I have decided that my life is focused around certain basic desires or pursuits, and these should correspond directly to my Gmail Labels. Previously, I had labels like Commerce, Bank, Internet, and Church. Not only do I have no need for a view that shows me all Bank-related emails, but it really doesn't help my brain to classify an email as having to do with banking. When it comes in, I already know all I need to know about it from the first line, and the vast, vast majority of those emails aren't interesting in the slightest. An email from a friend about Photography, however, or an email to a flight instructor about my next lesson - these things are worth categorizing, because it is worth reminding myself regularly what my priorities are, why, what order they fall into, and that each of them requires some regular effort in order to maintain (if, indeed, I want to maintain each one).

This leads me to a question, which may be better addressed in a subsequent post. Around what do we organize our lives? If we're organizing them around anything other than our basic pursuits, I suspect we're fooling ourselves into a false organization that serves mostly to exalt the stated rather than the actual purposes of our lives. Let's talk about this soon, shall we?