Tag Archives: church

Just Like Nose Hairs

I was seated across from him at lunch; trying to have an earnest conversation.  But my conversation attempts were constantly thwarted by the Houdini of nose hairs.  Sometimes it wasn’t there; sometimes it was.  I it appeared; it escaped!  I couldn’t tell what made it come or go; was it the waitress?  Was it the salad?  Was it something clever I said?  And why did it flick out from its hiding place for only parts of our conversation?  I managed to keep a straight face during the conversation but, trust me, IT WAS VERY, VERY HARD!

This particular nose hair was one of those very long gray ones that lash out like some kind of nasal switch blade; determined to slice and dice (or at least tickle) anyone that got in its way.   I could not tell what made it sometimes pierce the air between us and sometimes duck for cover.  I also wondered how a (what seemed to be) six-inch nose hair could appear, disappear, and reappear without its human host head noticing.

I am puzzled by nose hairs and their auricular cousins:  ear hairs (Don’t get me started on ear hairs–I mean, if you’re going to have ear hairs, shouldn’t you have enough ear hairs to keep your ears warm?  But no, they manifest only in groups of two or three, parading themselves for all the world to see [after you, yourself, look away from the mirror in the morning], but are totally useless.  You can’t even comb them up to the top of your head to make up for the retreating head hairs.  Life is decidedly not fair.)

Nose hairs don’t show up until later in life; usually.  They remain latent until, detecting the creeping advance of middle age, they suddenly announce themselves one morning in the mirror.  And–they are completely useless.  They are annoying and, no matter how much you trim or pull (which is hard; gripping a nose hair to pull, that is); THEY KEEP COMING BACK!  You cannot make them go away; as much as you might try; they are resilient; they are the 300 Spartans at Thermopylae facing the menacing might of the Persian Empire; they will not fall (out, that is).

It occurred to me a while back that the Body of Christ suffers from a strikingly similar problem.  Just like nose hairs, it keeps coming back.  You can’t seem to kill it off and it is also decidedly not helpful.  In fact, it’s downright harmful.  And, unlike nose hairs, not in the least amusing.

What is this menace in the Body of Christ?  It is harmful speech.  Words spoken to wound.  Words spoken carelessly.  Words spoken from a presumed superior position.  Words that cannot be retrieved once spoken.  Words that land in the middle of someone’s spirit like a neutron bomb–their outward bodily appearance is intact, but the killing effect of the “radiation” has taken deep root. 

Why is it that, in Larry Crabb’s words, what is supposed to be the Safest Place on Earth, is often the source of such ruinous speech?  For the life of me, I cannot figure out why people, who have been redeemed by the preeminent act of grace, can be so profoundly graceless in our speech.  It’s a puzzler.

I know, “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23).  I know, “I do not understand what I do.  For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do” (Rom. 7:15).  But chalking our harmful speech up to, “I can’t help it because I stumble in many ways,” JUST DOESN’T CUT IT.

I think we need to stop.  We need to speak words of hope and healing and help into the lives of the people around us.  Are there times when particularly egregious behavior needs to be lovingly confronted?  Sure.  But we all know that our wounding words are usually not that.  We all know that our wounding words spring from selfishness and carelessness and a lack of loving investment in our neighbors–from a sense of superiority and smugness and self-righteousness.

 “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of [our] mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen” (Ephesians 4:29).

I have to go now; I have some nose hairs to trim.  And, if you happen to be having lunch with me (or breakfast or dinner or popcorn at the movies for that matter), and you see a Houdini nose hair make an appearance; go ahead, laugh…just let me laugh with you.

© All rights reserved.  Scripture quotations from the NIV, Zondervan.


On Being Cool & The Island of Misfit Toys

Shock and awe will be induced by the words that follow.  Those that know me now will just not believe that:  I WAS NOT COOL IN HIGH SCHOOL.  I was a (I can see you holding your breath), yes, I was A NERD.  Not cool; not even close.  I was on the debate team.  I was a member of the NFL (no, not that NFL; the National Forensic League [back when forensic meant mostly speechifying and not examining larvae from dead humans to estimate time of death]).  My high school picture still makes me simultaneously laugh and cringe.

But I so wanted to be cool.  Cool the way the cool kids were…cool enough to have people listen to me and emulate me (the fact that I knew what “emulate” meant was problematic in and of itself).  Cool like the stars of the athletic teams and the drama kings and the other cool kids.  The cool kids were cool without even thinking about it.  But you know that they did–think about it that is.

I wasn’t alone in my desire to be cool; lots of kids who weren’t wanted to be cool.  Sad, we were and brokenhearted (thanks, Yoda).  Not content to be who we were and discover those things we were made to do, we sought the elusive (and ever fickle) prerogatives of coolness by feigning interest in the things of coolness.  And, sad to say, we often scouted around for those further down on the coolness scale than we so we could have at least some segment of the population over whom we held some cool sway.

Those of us who weren’t cool were usually just slightly out of step with the latest thing.  Like the lone member of a marching formation who just can’t quite get in step; we were trying to follow along but we couldn’t ever find the cadence of coolness.  Oh, sure, we “marched to the beat of a different drummer.”  But really, inside, we didn’t want to be aligned with the not cool percussionist; we wanted “in.”  We wanted to be cool.  We were, in today’s vernacular, carrying the iPhone 3G in an iPhone 5S world.  And just when we upgraded, they brought out the next model; we never quite got to cool.

Fast forward fifteen years or so and I became a Christian.  As I immersed myself in this new world, this Bible world, guess what I discovered?  I was still with a group of people who wanted so very much to be cool.  We have our own variety of Christian coolness and, sadly, it looks a lot like a knock off copy of the coolness of the world that swirls around us.  Don’t believe me?  Check our websites, Facebook pages, Twitter feeds, and Instagram pics.  We want to be cool people who believe in Jesus so that the cool people who don’t believe in Jesus will want to hang out with us.  Or at least not think us too weird, too strange, too uncool.

But I don’t believe God ever intended for us to be cool.  He intended for us to be in relationship with Him.  He intended for us to be “new creations” that flabbergast the world with our utter dependence upon Him and our utter disregard for the things that constitute coolness.

In 1964, the now classic Christmas Season TV special debuted:  Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer.  Featuring the Rudolph with his nose that glows so bright and his quirky wanna be dentist elf friend, Hermey, the old animated show never loses its charm.  

Pivotal to the story is Rudolph’s and Hermey’s wandering to the Island of Misfit Toys.  There they meet a Charlie (not Jack) in the Box, the toy cowboy who rides an ostrich, the polka-dotted elephant, the bird that swims (not flies), and other passed over toy misfits.  These toys have been rejected Christmas after Christmas; being found wanting because they do not fit the toy norms.  Dare I say they were not cool toys?

Of course (spoiler alert for those of you who have not seen the TV special in the last 49 years), Rudolph finds his place as lead reindeer on Santa’s sleigh and they redeem the Misfit Toys by delivering them to children on Christmas Eve.

It has hit me recently; what we Christians in our churches really are (or are really supposed to be), are collections of Islands of Misfit Toys; archipelagos of foolish things that don’t quite fit the world around us but who keep trying very hard to do so.  God has made us into new creatures to confound the world.  We want to have it both ways:  to enjoy the counter coolness of God while trying to be cool in the eyes of those around us. 

Just one passage from the New Testament:  1 Corinthians 1:26-31, 26 Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. 27 But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. 28 God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, 29 so that no one may boast before him. 30 It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. 31 Therefore, as it is written: ‘Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord’.” 

Please don’t misunderstand, there is nothing inherently wrong (and very many things right) with intellectual, athletic, or cultural achievement, unless we allow them to fuel the desire to be cool rather than the desire to honor God:  “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”

Sad but true, I think, our innate desire to fit in can override our biblical sensibility.  And that, is decidedly not cool.  Surrendering our desire to be cool may be one of the most pressing discipleship challenges of our day and time.

Welcome to the Island of Misfit Toys.