I was on
the phone with a good friend the other day. After covering important topics,
like disparaging each other's mothers and retelling semi-factual tales from our
college days, our conversation turned to the mundane.
"So, how's work going?"
he asked.
For those of you who don't know, I
make money by teaching leadership skills and helping people learn to get along
in corporate America. My wife says it's all a clever disguise so I can get up
in front of large groups and tell stories.
I plead the fifth.
I answered my buddy's question
with,
"Definitely feeling blessed.
Last year was the best year yet for my business. And it looks like this year
will be just as busy."
The words rolled off my tongue
without a second thought. Like reciting the Pledge of Allegiance or placing my
usual lunch order at McDonald's.
But it was a lie.
Now, before you start taking up a collection for the "Feed
the Dannemillers" fund, allow me to explain. Based on last year's quest to go twelve months without buying anything,
you may have the impression that our family is subsisting on Ramen noodles and
free chips and salsa at the local Mexican restaurant. Not to worry, we are not in dire straits.
Last year was the best year yet for my business.
Things are looking busy in 2014.
But that is not a blessing.
I've noticed a trend among
Christians, myself included, and it troubles me. Our rote response to material
windfalls is to call ourselves blessed. Like the "amen" at the end of
a prayer.
"This
new car is such a blessing."
"Finally
closed on the house. Feeling blessed."
"Just
got back from a mission trip. Realizing how blessed we are here in this
country."
On the surface, the phrase seems
harmless. Faithful even. Why wouldn't I want to give God the glory for
everything I have? Isn't that the right thing to do?
No.
As I reflected on my "feeling
blessed" comment, two thoughts came to mind. I realize I'm splitting hairs
here, creating an argument over semantics. But bear with me, because I believe
it is critically important. It's one of those things we can't see because it's
so culturally engrained that it has become normal.
But it has to stop. And here's
why.
First, when I say that my material
fortune is the result of God's blessing, it reduces The Almighty to some sort
of sky-bound, wish-granting fairy who spends his days randomly bestowing cars
and cash upon his followers. I can't help but draw parallels to how I handed out
M&M's to my own kids when they followed my directions and chose to poop in
the toilet rather than in their pants. Sure, God wants us to continually seek
His will, and it's for our own good. But positive reinforcement?
God is
not a behavioral psychologist.
Second, and more importantly, calling myself blessed because of
material good fortune is just plain wrong. For starters,
it can be offensive to the hundreds of millions of Christians in the world who
live on less than $10 per day. You read that right. Hundreds of millions who receive a single-digit dollar
"blessing" per day.
During our year in Guatemala, Gabby and I witnessed first-hand
the damage done by the theology of prosperity, where faithful people scraping
by to feed their families were simply told they must not be faithful enough. If they were, God would
pull them out of their nightmare. Just try harder, and God will show favor.
The problem? Nowhere in scripture
are we promised worldly ease in return for our pledge of faith. In fact, the
most devout saints from the Bible usually died penniless, receiving a one-way
ticket to prison or death by torture.
I'll take door number three,
please.
If we're looking for the
definition of blessing, Jesus spells it out clearly (Matthew 5: 1-12).
1 Now when he saw the crowds,
he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to Him,
2 And He began to teach them,
saying:
3 Blessed are the poor in
spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4 Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
5 Blessed are the meek, for
they will inherit the earth.
6 Blessed are those who hunger
and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.
7 Blessed are the merciful, for
they shall be shown mercy.
8 Blessed are the pure in
heart, for they will see God.
9 Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called the sons of God.
10 Blessed are those who are
persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
11 Blessed are you when people
insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because
of me.
12 Rejoice and be glad, because
great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the
prophets who were before you.
I have a sneaking suspicion verses
12a 12b and 12c were omitted from the text. That's where the disciples
responded by saying:
12a
Waitest thou for one second, Lord. What about "blessed art thou
comfortable," or 12b "blessed art thou which havest good jobs, a
modest house in the suburbs, and a yearly vacation to the Florida Gulf
Coast?"
12c And
Jesus said unto them, "Apologies, my brothers, but those did not maketh
the cut."
So there it is. Written in red.
Plain as day. Even still, we ignore it all when we hijack the word
"blessed" to make it fit neatly into our modern American ideals,
creating a cosmic lottery where every sincere prayer buys us another
scratch-off ticket. In the process, we stand the risk of alienating those we
are hoping to bring to the faith.
And we have to stop playing that
game.
The truth is, I have no idea why I was born where I was or why I
have the opportunity I have. It's beyond comprehension. But I certainly don't
believe God has chosen me above others because of the veracity of my prayers or
the depth of my faith. Still, if I take advantage of the opportunities set
before me, a comfortable life may come my way. It's not guaranteed. But
if it does happen, I don't believe Jesus will call me blessed.
He will call me
"burdened."
He will ask,
"What will you do with
it?"
"Will you use it for
yourself?"
"Will you use it to
help?"
"Will you hold it close for
comfort?"
"Will you share it?"
So many hard choices. So few easy
answers.
So my prayer today is that I
understand my true blessing. It's not my house. Or my job. Or my standard of
living.
No.
My blessing is this. I know a God
who gives hope to the hopeless. I know a God who loves the unlovable. I know a
God who comforts the sorrowful. And I know a God who has planted this same
power within me. Within all of us.
And for this blessing, may our
response always be,
"Use me."
For many years I have tried to get the points in the following article across to people. I have tried to get Christians to realize that they often think of God's blessings wrongly. I teach that blessings are NOT what we so often think them to be.
When I try to teach them I am given blank stares, argued with and/or ridiculed. And I STILL hear people echoing the old Jewish concept that God's blessings are seen in material things: my house is a blessing from God; my family is a blessing from God; my job is a blessing from God.
NO! NO! NO! Jesus is the blessing from God. You need no other. If you do, you need to review your relationship to Him.
Recently I saw and read this post by Scott Dannemiller. It is long, but its lesson is well worth the time. It expresses what I have tried to get across to people for so long, When I saw it on FaceBook, I decided to provide it to you.
Scott Dannemiller is a writer, blogger, worship leader and former missionary with the Presbyterian Church. He writes the blog The Accidental Missionary, where this post first appeared.
