Monday, January 28, 2013

Being a Type B Christian in a Type A Christian World

Let me try to paint a picture for you.  There's a guy on an ultra-modern, hip looking stage.  It may have some nice LCD displays.  There's probably a stool and a bottle of water somewhere.

The guy is dressed casually, but looks pretty sharp.  A v-neck is probably involved in some fashion.  His hairstyle is funky in a non-threatening way and he may be wearing hipsterish glasses.  Most of all, he is earnest and sincere.  There's a whole vibe of "We're cool, you're cool, let's all be cool together". 

Sound familiar to anyone?

Everything seems to be designed in such a way as to maximize my ability to connect with the guy on the stage and the message he's sharing.  There's humor, bullet points, profound stories, etc.  But here's the problem . . .

I don't connect.  At all.

It's not because there's anything wrong with this cool dude up on the stage.  It's not necessarily theological differences.  I just don't connect and lately I've been wondering why.

I think it's because there are certain assumptions being made.  One assumption is that I have a goal, want a goal, or need a goal.  Another assumption is that I'm looking for principles and tools to reach this goal. 

But what if that's not really how I'm wired?  There doesn't seem to be any room for that.  I begin to infer that the problem must be on my end if I'm not connecting with what's being shared.  But lately I've been questioning that.

Based on a cursory reading of a Wikipedia article, the Type A and Type B Personality Theory is somewhat controversial and far from proven.  But nevertheless, let me share the the definitions of each from the article:

Type A
"The theory describes a Type A individual as ambitious, rigidly organized, highly status conscious, can be sensitive, care for other people, are truthful, impatient, always try to help others, take on more than they can handle, want other people to get to the point, proactive, and obsessed with time management. People with Type A personalities are often high-achieving "workaholics" who multi-task, push themselves with deadlines, and hate both delays and ambivalence."

 Type B
"The theory describes Type B individuals as a contrast to those with Type A personalities. People with Type B personality by definition generally live at a lower stress level and typically work steadily, enjoying achievement but not becoming stressed when they are not achieved. When faced with competition, they do not mind losing and either enjoy the game or back down. They may be creative and enjoy exploring ideas and concepts. They are often reflective, thinking about the outer and inner worlds. Furthermore, Type B personalities may have a poor sense of time schedule and can be predominately right brained thinkers."

I certainly don't fit perfectly into a Type B mold, and I'm sure many pastors and speakers aren't prototypical Type A's.  However, I think this may explain some of the disconnect I feel.  One phrase from the Type A description really jumped out at me - "want other people to get to the point".

This isn't a bad thing.  I know there are certainly times at work when I really want people just to get to the freaking point already.  But when it comes to sharing life and talking about God and all that fun stuff, I'm not very interested in just getting to the point.  The journey, not the destination, is what I'm interested in.  I don't want tools and principles to get me from point A to point F.  I'm just loving being at point C and if I take a detour to point L, that's fine with me.

Some people really want to get to the conclusion or figure out the answer.  I'd rather have a conversation and discuss all the questions.  And I think there's room for both in the body.  I think it's a good thing we're wired differently and everyone has something unique that they bring to the table. 

And this has been healthy for me.  Too often I dismiss what others are saying because they're not wired like me and I feel somewhat condemned for not fitting that mold.  I'm hoping to get better at listening to what a person's heart is sharing instead of getting hung up on all the terminology.  It's easy to dissect a sermon and discard what I don't agree with.  It's harder to remain humble and to be open to being taught by someone outside my comfort zone.  I'm not advocating forsaking discernment, but I can be a more gracious listener.

Just don't expect to see me on a stage sharing 3 steps or 4 principles to be a better Christian.  Ain't nobody got time for that.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

You Just Need To Have Faith

I'm sure just about everyone at some point has heard the familiar refrain of "You just need to have faith".  This generally occurs when someone is struggling with a difficult question or inner conflict.  While this phrase may seem like encouragement on the surface, I think often it is simply a cop out from having to address an uncomfortable question.

Telling someone to have more faith often infers that they need to stop asking their difficult questions and rocking everyone else's boats. 

"Why is there so much pain in this world?"

"You just need to have faith."

"If grace is really free, why do people have to say or do anything to be saved?"

"You just need to have faith."

"What about people who never hear the real gospel, do they still go to hell?"

"You just need to have faith."

Is that really good advice?  Does telling someone to have faith do anything to address their quandary?  Does it endear them to Father?  Sometimes I think it's just an impulse answer, something we toss out when people start asking things that make us nervous.  We feel the need to protect our gift-wrapped, spoon-fed theologies at all costs, even if that means giving superficial encouragement to others.  We worry that if our comfortable ideologies are examined under too harsh a light, we may be confronted with some ugly truths.

But does it need to be that way?  Do we need to pressure other people to accept trite answers just so our own reality can remain unexamined? 

And let me make something clear - I am not opposed to faith.  Actually, I think encouragement to grow in faith is a wonderful thing.  But simply lobbing that answer at someone is, in my opinion, actually counterproductive to developing faith.

Let's say I was driving around the frozen tundra of Upstate New York, down one of our many poorly plowed roads.  Then, all of a sudden, I see a pair of eyes staring at me out of the dark, my headlights illuminating an idiot deer standing there motionless.  A quick swerve, a patch of ice, and I'm suddenly 50 feet into some guy's snow covered corn field.  And just my luck, my AAA coverage ran out 2 days prior and I didn't renew yet 'cause I'm strapped from the holidays.

So I call my good friend Matt, or maybe one of the Ryan's or Josh's.  They promise they'll be there in 30 minutes to drag my sorry ass out of trouble.  And y'know what?  I believe them.  I have faith in them. 

Why?

Because I know them.  I know they're people who keep their word, I've experienced their friendship and they have absolutely earned my trust.  Knowing comes before trusting.

So I think we're doing a disservice to people when we urge them to simply have faith.  I don't really think faith is necessarily something a person can drum up on their own.  I think real faith is a byproduct of knowing . . .

Knowing Father's love.

Knowing Father's faithfulness.

Knowing Father's wisdom.

Knowing Father.  Period.

So instead of trying to silence someone's question by implying that they should just shut up and trust God, maybe we'd do better to point people toward Father.  Maybe we should validate their questions instead of giving pat answers.  Maybe we should encourage them to take that question to the God who is not afraid of questions, the God who is not threatened by doubts.

Maybe it's actually in the midst of those uncomfortable struggles that we get to know Father better.  What if by urging someone to drop their question, we're actually keeping them from engaging with God in a very special way?  What if Father is more interested in the journey than the destination?  What if he enjoys walking with us through doubts and frustrations?

I wonder if struggling with questions and doubts, instead of being a sign that we're lacking faith, is actually the beginning of a journey to grow our faith by engaging Father in the midst of our turmoil. 

I keep thinking of that scene from the Christmas Carol with the Ghost of Christmas Present.  His entreaty to Scrooge is, "Come in! And know me better man!"

Maybe that's the same invitation being extended to us as we wrestle with difficult questions.  I don't think Father is saying, "Stop asking questions and just have faith."  I think he's saying, "Come and know me better, child."