Unity in and among Diversity (Introduction): Merely Metaphysical or Personally Practiced?

The quote is often attributed to Mark Twain: “Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.” The same seems destined to be true about unity as well.

My frustrations over disunity are regularly compounded whenever I contact fellow-pastors with opportunities for cooperative ministry in our area. Their response? “You know, that’s not something we’d be able to participate in.” “We can’t do it this time, but keep us on the list for anything else that comes up.” “Sorry, but if you aren’t sure that the (insert denomination or congregation here) church won’t be invited, we can’t commit to supporting that.” “Nope, that doesn’t work for us. But be sure to let us know if something else comes up—because we really believe in unity among the churches.”

Let me ask, whether you serve in Christian ministry, community development, or some other role in enhancing the lives of others: Is there a oneness between you and those you serve? Between you and others serving the same persons? I believe that you believe in unity…of some sort. But let me ask you to consider with me: which unity do we believe in?

In my June 20 post, I explored these questions as Jesus addressed them during The Last Supper (John 17). He prayed for us to “be one, even as You, Father, are in Me and I in You.” Did Jesus intend us to engage in cooperative collaboration, literally showing love for one another as we, together, showed love in our service to others? Or was He merely stating an underlying metaphysical reality? Did Jesus imagine a unity that could survive our mutual avoidance and independence? Is His a oneness that exists despite our refusal to celebrate and serve in one another’s presence?

It is nearly impossible to support some vague, insubstantial “unity” as being Jesus’ intention in John 17.

It becomes entirely impossible when the theme is addressed elsewhere. Especially dear to me, since it is the life-guiding passage on which my wife and I chose to base our marriage, is Philippians 2:1-2. It reads, “Therefore if there is any encouragement in Christ, if there is any consolation of love, if there is any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and compassion, make my joy complete by being of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose.” In the Greek language of that day, the word we translate “if” does not suggest uncertainty. As Jesus’ disciples and the Apostle Paul’s audience would have heard it: “If there is any encouragement in Christ, and there is, if there is any consolation of love, and there is…,” then our unity is vitally necessary.

The grammatical term for the kind of sentence Paul uses is “Imperative.” That means, according to Webster & Co., that Paul is expressing “the will to influence the behavior of another.” In short, “Do something about this!” But even if we accept an intentional, and intensely personal practice instead of a merely metaphysical (some would say “non-existent”) unity, many questions remain. With whom do we pursue unity? How much diversity can we accommodate within that unity? Can we have unity not only with those embracing diversity, but whose particular diversities put them at odds with one another?

These are the questions that I want to explore over the next several weeks. The posts will be interspersed among other topics I address here. But the title will always begin with “Unity in and among Diversity,” so you’ll be able to find them. I’d welcome your questions or comments, and especially your perspectives and experiences related to applying your belief in unity to actual, real-life situations.

The Harmony of Unity and Diversity: What (and How) My Grandmother Taught Me

I still play the violin. But once, I was a violinist. And yet, blessed by my grandmother’s early influence and later insistence, I am still a musician. Here’s what I mean, and how that happened.

I don’t remember when I first heard my grandmother perform. I believe it was sometime after she began taking me to recitals and concerts across southwestern Ohio. Frankly, I was occasionally bored at first, incapable of appreciating that a musical theme or refrain wasn’t just “repetitious.” But one afternoon in Cincinnati, I woke up to “the language.” The soloist played something by Fritz Kreisler and I heard it—not repetition, but reiteration and restatement, variations on a theme that drove it more deeply into my heart than anything before.

I wanted to be able to do that. Even more so once I watched my grandmother—the not-so-proficient cook, occasional Rummy partner, hostess of the first dozen or so Christmas Eves in my life—take out what would one day become my violin (then hers again, then mine again—another story, another time) and make those beautiful sounds.

Definitely Musicians

But she insisted: no violin lessons until I learned to play the piano. She bought our family a Kawai upright, and I began attending lessons with Virginia Vandervoort. (No, “attending lessons” is not the same as “studying” or “training.” But a stern admonition from my great-grandmother soon motivated a far greater diligence.)

I was eventually allowed to study and train on the violin, eventually playing with the Dayton Junior Philharmonic Orchestra. For a time I suspected that my grandmother’s acquaintances were more influential than my personal skills in securing that privilege. But then I entered contests, won prizes, and even performed in the “Command Performance” segment of a California Music Education Association festival. I really was a violinist.

Also Musicians

But it was the piano that first made me hear the harmonies. Trios, quartets, and orchestras became far more comprehensible, especially once I studied music theory and composition. I can hear a page of music, just as you can hear these written words. Thanks to professors at SF State, I can even sight-sing just about anything you put in front of me.

Still Musicians

So, currently, I remain a vocalist who plays piano and violin. I play at the guitar and, when necessary, several other stringed instruments. I have never successfully caused music with a brass or woodwind instrument, which adds to my appreciation for those who do. Still, I allow only begrudgingly that among “those people who hang out with the musicians” (i.e., percussionists), there actually may, theoretically, be some musicians.

Arguably, Musician-ish

While I resonate best with pianists, violinists, and vocalists, I also enjoy solidarity with everyone who understands “the language.” We can discuss styles, techniques, genres, performers, composers, and conductors, throwing around esoteric jargon that can bring tears to our eyes—while others simply roll theirs. We see a page of music, and we hear what it says. We listen to multiple recordings by different orchestras, and even the same orchestra under different conductors, and critique their interpretive choices, and argue over which is “correct.” But at the end of the day, we’re all still musicians.

Among the Simpler Source Texts

I could go on. But I hope that I have made two points.

First, that once you learn “the language,” there is no end to the depth and breadth of all its blessings. And second, whereas my grandmother took me to recitals and concerts, maybe yours took you to church. Either way, I hope you’ve experienced the same harmony of unity and diversity.

On Pragmatics, Purposes, and Purity: How Much Unity Will We Have?

We have to talk about real things.

Christian groups sometimes unite behind causes, even if that cause is only that they should have a cause, some “purpose” to unite around. Likewise, individuals sometimes claim to pursue Christian unity in isolation, so that the purity of their unity with others (metaphysically existing by divine decree) remains undamaged by others’ impurities.

Another path seems simpler and more attractive…until you try it. But even among “Pragmatics” (judging ideas by their consequences, so that “the ends justify the means”), so attractive is this path’s promise that the absence of results rarely hinders the pursuit and prescription of this ineffective strategy: To establish and maintain unity, any and all issues of potential conflict will be ignored. (i.e., “Don’t talk religion, or politics.”)

This simpler path is rarely successful, though. Ask any family whose hopes for a peaceful Thanksgiving dinner lasts only until they’ve exhausted their opinions on the weather, the food, and its likely aftereffects on the elderly gastrointestinal tracts in attendance. Ask politicians (whether governmental or churches’) who are forbidden even temporary silence. Instead, for the sake of unity within 51% of their constituency, they cocoon every utterance in plausible deniability. (“I didn’t mean what it sounds like I said.”) We have to talk about real things.

A simple fact: We should rejoice in the simple failure of this simpler strategy. Otherwise, it would decimate the conversations necessary to any relationship. Thankfully, that damage is rarely inflicted for long. We have to talk about real things.

And yet, this simpler path is still prescribed for members within local congregations, congregations within their denominations, denominations within their traditions, traditions within Christianity, etc. Somehow, “with God’s help,” this should work in the church, despite failing everywhere else. But God’s call to “fellowship” requires more, not less authenticity and integrity in our communication. We have to talk about real things.

Dr. Paul Louis Metzger asked recently, “How seriously do we who are Christians take Jesus’ words recorded in John 17:23?” (http://www.patheos.com/blogs/uncommongodcommongood/2014/01/how-seriously-do-we-take-jesus-words-on-the-need-for-christian-unity/.) He discusses a more complex, more difficult, and more rewarding path. I find the trailhead of that path marked by authenticity and integrity among some claiming to follow Jesus Christ. Such authenticity and integrity requires us to accept the authenticity and integrity of the words and actions of Jesus Christ Himself. We cannot take His words too seriously.

So, what did Jesus say about our unity as followers of Jesus Christ? Dr. Metzger includes John 17:23. I would add the prior petition: “I do not ask on behalf of these alone, but for those also who believe in Me through their word; that they may all be one; even as You, Father, are in Me and I in You, that they also may be in Us, so that the world may believe that You sent Me.” (John 17:20-21, NASB)

We see the authenticity and integrity of “one God, eternally existing in three persons” engaged in openly and intimately communicating. Therefore, we should be cautious about relegating “unity” to mere metaphysics. Likewise, we cannot pretend that “unity” relying on mutually-assured silence reflects that God whose image and likeness we bear. We have to talk, about real things.

Dear George Will – Let’s Get Real about “Real Rape” and Its Prevalence on Campus

I didn’t leave the factory without the math chip being installed. But, frankly, I have not found it as necessary in serving the needs of the persons and communities around me until just now.

George Will, in his June 6 column for the Washington Post’s website (you’ll find it here: http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/george-will-college-become-the-victims-of-progressivism/2014/06/06/e90e73b4-eb50-11e3-9f5c-9075d5508f0a_story.html), draws the ire of many in the sexual assault victims’ advocacy community by using sexual assault statistics as a means for condemning the federal government’s continuing intrusion into all matters public and private alike. He’s free to confront expansive government all he wants. But I do object to his misguided and inaccurate marginalization of those who are being objectified, exploited, oppressed, and destroyed by the continued pattern of sexual violence on American college campuses.

He suggests that what he perceives to be over-reporting of sexual assault (i.e., “We’re just making this up,” is what I understand him to claim.) is a result of the fact that rape victims enjoy “a coveted status that confers privileges” with the result that “victims proliferate.” Well, I would agree that victims continue to proliferate. But it is because of marginalization and shaming like that in his op-ed piece more so than it is by throngs of young women eagerly seeking to “join the club” by experiencing sexual assault.

If George Will is right about the statistics (which would depend upon the definitions used by those collecting the statistics—specifically, he mentions the Ohio State University officials to whom just 98 “sexual assaults” were reported “in the years 2009 to 2012”), then we should accept his assertion that the claim is spurious that “one in five women is sexually assaulted while in college.” But only if his math checks out (and only if he isn’t playing sleight-of-hand by conflating “real rape” and “sexual assault” statistics and, since he doesn’t footnote as an "opinion writer," it’s impossible to tell).

His calculations: 98 assaults reported, taken to be 12% of the assaults which actually occurred. Thus, 817 assaults total among a population of 28,000. He gets that as 2.9% rather than 20% of the population. Now, in any “averaging,” anomalies abound. It could be that Ohio State is so far outside the norm as to be roughly 85% safer than most other college campuses. It could also be that there are some missing statistics in Will’s calculations.

For one thing, can we count to four? No. We’ve been out of school too long, apparently. Statistics from Ohio Statue University for the “academic years 2009-2012” (2009-10, 2010-11, 2011-12 – for a total of 3 years) is not the same as “for the calendar years 2009-2012” (4). Multiply the statistics for the three selected years (which are, remember, suspiciously low) by 33%. Still, we’re now only talking about 130 assaults, instead of the 98 that Will represents in those “four” years in which, "some claim," there are one-in-five college women assaulted.

On this next matter, though, I have to admit to moving beyond the statistics available. I don’t know if every sexual assault counts in the eyes of Ohio State University officials. But knowing the anecdotal evidence from campus safety officers elsewhere and the vast difference between those and the “officially reported” statistics that show zero reports in categories for which there were definitely incidents on a particular campus, I believe I can be allowed to make the assumption below.

So, consider that there are multiple categories of sexual assault that do not involve the physical penetration of a penis into a vagina. What percentage do we assign to “real rape” as opposed to these other categories? To use an illustration from my previous post, “The Euphemisms of Sexual Assault,” being subjected to an “inappropriate touch” by someone who had become “overzealous” would be unlikely to generate a police report in the campus office that must also share those statistics with potential students and their parents. Is the physical act of penetration completed in 50% of all assaults? Hardly. Is it as much as a quarter of the time? Not according to the counselees who’ve shared their stories with me.

For the sake of the math, let’s assume that the rate of “real rape” is as high as 20% of all sexual assaults committed, only against women, and we'll also limit ourselves to the four year period Will alludes to (though we’ll actually count to four, not three). If we’re right about the assumptions we’re forced to make by Will’s nebulous terminology, then there would be 130 rapes reported. If that figure represents, as he notes, 12% of the rapes which actually occurred, then instead of 817, we’re looking at 1086. Using our highly subjective evaluation that as many as one-fifth of sexual assaults involve “real rape,” then every four years at Ohio State University, on average, a total of 5430 women students should expect to be sexually assaulted.

Will does get one statistic right. Ohio State’s website shows a total enrollment on their Columbus campus of 57,466, with a male/female ratio of 50/50. So, of the 28,000 women about whom he writes: only 19.4% will be victims of sexual assault, not 20%. At least not at Ohio State University during the years that Will selected for his calculations.

Thank you, George. We stand corrected. But we're still not going to run out and try to join the privileged class of rape victims. Far too many of us are already there.

In Defense of Not Having Fun (nor Donald Miller’s "Guilt," either)

Donald Miller having fun at Christian Book Expo 2009

Let me start by saying this: I don’t disagree with Donald Miller’s blog post on the importance of “the fun in serving others” by using “our skills and passions,” and allowing that some aspects of service feel more like duty, and that, in addition to “fun” we should be aware of what we find “fulfilling.” (The post is found here: http://storylineblog.com/2014/06/09/what-if-christians-stopped-serving-out-of-guilt/?utm_content=buffer3a22c&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter.com&utm_campaign=buffer)

But if you follow my blog at all, you know that what I find most fulfilling isn’t anywhere near what others (sane others, at least) would define as “fun.” And when Don Miller offers that some things are “fulfilling” it’s only in the context of “doing good things for people because it was a fun and fulfilling way to live.” So, since his point is to prolong the absence of cardiologists from our lives by omitting the “ought to’s” from our lives, and since I agree with him primary point, why am I bothering to write this post?

I agree that we shouldn’t do anything to further damage our (literal, anatomical, physiologically-essential) hearts by the stresses of guilt and shame for not living up to others’ image and “oughts.” I also believe strongly that most of us manage to limp along, especially in Christian service, with (figurative, spiritual, emotionally-outpouring) hearts that rarely get exercised in the right direction. So, as important as it is to avoid having your heart snared, exploited, and deadened in the service of someone else’s purposes, that most effectively happens, in my experience, when we determine to find, fulfill, and find our fulfillment in the specific, unique, and divine life callings God installed in each of us.

Serving the dying & bereaved: fulfilling. Not always fun    

    

So, I encourage others to “be who you are, and the doing will follow” (which I believe sums up Ephesians 2:8-10 rather nicely), even when I know that many of them will become engaged in activities that are far from fun. The challenges, the obstacles, the necessary development, and even the pain of the pursuit so greatly enhance the eventual arrival that some will turn again and again to difficulty. And rightly so, since similar difficulties face even those who need to manufacture succeedingly greater levels of intensity in order to penetrate the calluses that “fun” has grown into their souls.

Am I reacting to Donald Miller’s post because of the unique challenges I face in ministry to the dying and bereaved? In part, yes. There are many other ministries, though, in which I’ve served that offer even less “fun” to be had. But there are also many other ministries, some to which you may be called, that require a process, a discipline, significant development, and an incredible investment of time and energy in order to find, fulfill, and find fulfillment in what God has made you to be. (With the result that the doing follows your very being—as I commented to a friend who suggested I was wired differently: “Yes, I suppose so. Because for me there’s breathing, and then there’s the bereavement ministry—just as naturally.”)

Kseniya Simonova hard at work, beautifully and fulfillingly.

As a means of inspiration to be who you are, and let the doing follow, I would offer the following two videos. The first is subtitled, the second is not—but needs none. The first video tells the story of how Kseniya Simonova came to be in the position to share the story she chose to express artistically, as shown in the second video.

Be inspired. Be blessed. And be who you are.

Biographical Video of Kseniya Simonova: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SvAES2vQzOs

Kseniya Simonova’s award-winning performance on “Ukraine’s Got Talent:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOMgDbcA84A

The Euphemisms of Sexual Assault

Assaulted, but apparently hesitant to say so.

I only know who Sarah Hyland is because of one of those sidebar links next to an unrelated, very cute and charming video shared by a Facebook friend. The linked article says she’s an actress in a popular television series in which, according to the Internet Movie Data Base, she plays a naïve and gullible minor. Wikipedia calls her character “the stereotypical ditzy teenage girl.”

More important to me than all this, for multiple reasons, is that she was, according to the report, “inappropriately grabbed” by an “overzealous fan.”

The article is by “an Associate Editor (who is) still in awe that she gets to write about and interview pop stars for a living.” If you were to Google the incident, you would find a fuller portrayal of the event than is expressed even in the further details within the article itself. You’d also likely find that Sarah Hyland has a boyfriend, Matt Prokop, who chose to be clearer about the “inappropriate touch” by “a fan” than Hyland apparently felt she could be in her missive to the Twitterverse. I might have refrained from some of his language—but I think I would have expressed an all-too-similar sentiment in the heat of the moment. (Though I would have suggested it occur while the attacker was under Hospice care, of course.)

Knows what assault is, and says so.

Appropriately, the 29-year-old adult male who assaulted an actress portraying an especially vulnerable minor was not killed, but merely arrested. The actress was shaken sufficiently to cancel the remainder of her appearance. The boyfriend was clear regarding his impressions of the assault as well as his intentions toward the attacker.

So, what’s not clear here? To illustrate that, let me digress for just a moment.

Without including any identifying details, let me say that I have, on several occasions, with multiple clients/counselees/parishioners, been asked to offer my opinion on whether the sexual assault they had experienced was, in fact, something other than “inappropriate” at the hands of someone who had become “overzealous.” My perception has been, in each case, that there really was no question in the mind of the person who had been assaulted about what they had experienced. What was unclear, however, was whether anyone, anywhere, at any time would give them permission to say aloud: I was raped.

(Re-reading that last sentence aloud, shouting at the top of your lungs whenever you see italics, may approximate my tone. While typing it, I feared momentarily for the structural integrity of my laptop.)

So, perhaps having cleared that up, there is one thing that remains unclear to me.

Uncertain what assault is, or at least whether to say so.

How does a young and admittedly awestruck “Associate Editor” remember more carefully that she is not only writing about human beings, but that she is writing to human beings? I hope that others who have influence in her life may help her toward this. Because, in fact, not only is she writing to just any human beings, she is writing to primarily young, impressionable human beings, some of whom, quite clearly, already struggle to hope that someone, somewhere, and soon will give them permission to say:

I was not “inappropriately touched” by someone who became “overzealous.” I was assaulted by an attacker, and it was wrong.

“25 since 64” – Why Tiananmen Matters to Me

So, the lyrics to Chicago’s “25 or 6 to 4” certainly come into play here. But my primary inspiration this morning was the reminder from Dr. Sam Tsang (via his blog here: http://engagethepews.wordpress.com/2014/06/03/further-reflections-on-518-and-64-a-pro-family-gospel-i-think-not/) and Pastor Jane Lam regarding the 25^th Anniversary of the Tiananmen Square Massacre. Interestingly, in many comments elsewhere, even China’s most adamant apologists do not deny the death toll, nor the essential facts that an oppressive regime was threatened by a popular uprising against the slow (read: imperceptible) pace of claimed reforms that included some who advocated the overthrow of the communist party. As comment-section discussion tend toward, those which follow the Facebook posting BBC World News’ video (“What happened in Tiananmen Square? Explained in 60 seconds.” The link for their main site’s video feed: http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-27682899) descend quickly into diatribe, rabbit-trails, and name-calling.

Those comments which initially affected me most are those which point out the many similar events prior to and since Tiananmen, spanning the globe in both geographic and cultural complexity. Not to take away from commemorations of the reform movement in China, I would hope that we would consider the other, current venues in which the same patterns are being replicated today. And yet, being the Thanatologist (invested in education and counseling regarding death, dying, bereavement, grief, and mourning), I would also like to ask us to consider one other aspect. The dead, and their families.

Sometimes the tanks stop for pedestrians.

Whether Tiananmen, Egypt, Syria, Yugoslavia, or Cambodia, or Ruby Ridge, Waco, Oklahoma City, or any number of other contexts that may come to mind, our commemorations are appropriate, even though they may be exploited for other purposes. But in those exploitations for political, social, religious, or other “teaching moments,” consider with me the grief and mourning of the families, friends, coworkers, and classmates who have experienced the loss, not of dozens, or hundred, or thousands, but of their own – parents, spouses, children, friends – now gone.

Sometimes the tanks don't stop for pedestrians.

For the sake of those for whom 64 (the common Chinese reference to the events of June 4, 1989, according to Dr. Tsang) brings a reminder of those lost to them, I ask God to bring comfort and peace, even amidst the continuing (and, on days of commemoration, intensified) distractions of the causes, conflicts, and calamities for which the death of your own has become a symbol. For the sake of those who imagine that these things happen to other people elsewhere, and never here, to us, I ask God to bring compassion and purpose. Only then is there hope that it will not happen here and to us: when we determine that it should not happen anywhere to anyone. Finally, for the sake of those who believe in the use of “death as an object lesson,” symbolizing their agenda, cause, or position, I ask God to temper your passions for ideology, reputation, and self-assurance with a humility borne by our common humanity. “We are persons; please handle with care.”

(And allow us to mourn our dead.)

Further Collapsing the Categories: We’re all members of the club.

In the open letter to my protégé yesterday, I noted that even the simplest of categories into which I try to classify people (even those I dearly love) do not, thankfully, hold up. It’s an “open letter,” so you can, of course, read it in its entirety. But in a nutshell, I failed in my attempts to consider people as either having needs or having resources with which to meet needs. We all have both. And you’d think I’d know that, given my particular emphasis in ministry, life, passion, and…well, blog title.

This fall, I will be teaching another session of “Bereavement Intervention Skills Training” at Mayers Memorial Hospital in conjunction with Intermountain Hospice and The Glenburn Community Church (which graciously makes me available for all sorts of other involvements, including being Hospice Chaplain). If I were to use the failed categories I mentioned yesterday, then I would say that I am hoping to recruit as many as possible to attend the six evening sessions (September 9, 16, 23, and 30, and October 7 and 21, 6:30-8:30 p.m.), and to be trained to help meet the needs of the bereaved and dying.

That all looks fine, right there in plain English. But here’s where my categories still haunt me a little.

If I think of you as having needs in this area, then that means I see you as being bereaved or dying, and that others who stock up on the appropriate resources, skills and training will be better equipped to help meet your needs. But if that’s the category you’re in, the “bereaved or dying,” to what category do these “others” belong? The “non-bereaved” know that they are, more accurately, the “not-yet-bereaved.” And as for being among the “non-dying?” Actually, there have been two in that category. They’re Enoch and Elijah, if you want to look them up in scripture. But I wouldn’t hold much hope for joining their elite company.

So, again, trying to categorize human beings as having either resources or needs doesn’t work. Those of us who will be engaged in developing resources, skills and training as a means of providing assistance to the bereaved or dying…the fact is, surely, that we are dying. And we are also bereaved. We have experienced a significant loss. If not through the death of a loved one, then through the process of being trained to recognize the mortality of every human being—even ourselves.

So, when it comes to our mortality, there’s no “us-and-them.” As much as we seek our individuality, and our isolation, and our willful ignorance of the simple fact of life’s impending end…we’re in this together.

So, sooner or later, you’ll need the information and skills available through “Bereavement Intervention Skills Training.” Sign up now while there’s still room, and while you still have time.

An Open Letter to My Protégé

Not the right category of protégé.

Dear _____________,

(You know who you are.)

I’m in Portland again, continuing to indulge my education addiction.

In class today, part of our discussion touched on the question of whether we evaluate people and, if we do, in what ways. We seemed to agree that using the word “evaluate” suggested that we were considering the worth of the person(s). On that basis, most of us were clear that we didn’t want to be involved in evaluating others, since we believe that each of us is created in the image and likeness of God. Thus, every human being has an innate, indisputable, and immeasurable value.

Not the right categories of Rwandans.

We talked about other potential terms, and I realized that I try to merely “classify” or “categorize” others for (what I pretend are) perfectly appropriate reasons. But what I often do instead is to actually “stereotype” people. That means deciding in advance, based on some minimal perspective on them, “what kind of person” I think they are. It’s not a good habit to have. I’m trying to break it. But here is what I was thinking about when I imagined I could safely categorize you into one of two groups. (Actually, I was putting myself in one of the groups, and I was thinking of you in the other. You can probably tell which from my description.)

I tend to classify other people in terms of whether they are in need, or whether they have resources (or even “are” resources themselves). That way, when I’m thinking in terms of how God seeks to meet the needs of those around me, I can connect those He can use to meet those needs with those who have the kinds of needs He can meet through the first category. And that works, to a certain extent. Some people have received resources that I believe God has provided. Some have been used to deliver those resources.

But you probably realize by now that you throw off my “categories,” since you’re in both of them. Or maybe you didn’t know that.

I’ve had a chance to share some resources with you. But I don’t know if it’s always been clear how much you’ve been used to meet needs in my life as well. And so, in the midst of thinking about how I tend to categorize people, I realized that my categories don’t work. I’m not in your life just to meet your needs. And I’m not in your life just because you have resources I need. Vice versa, too.

So, what does this teach me about evaluating, categorizing, classifying, or stereotyping people? I think it’s that there’s just the one category: people. We have needs. We have resources. And we know to share our needs and our resources with each other because we share something else first: Life. You’re in mine. I’m in yours. And I’m very glad about that.

Just thought you should know.

Your servant for Jesus’ sake (II Corinthians 4:5),

Bill

Still not the right categories. But closer!