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Let Them Eat Cake
LK: Hey, you world traveler, are you enjoying your camp meeting experience in beautiful Canada? How's it going at your young adult meetings--can they relate to a baby-boomer like you? I expect a full report now that you have a spanking new laptop. JS: Actually, the "young adults" ranged anywhere from 25 to 60 in age. It's a division no one seems to want to graduate from. I guess it's because once you are too old for "young adult" you become "old adult." It's funny--age used to be a status symbol. The first thing Pharaoh asked the aged Jacob when he entered his throne room was, "How old are you?" That would be considered rude today, simply because age is a source of shame in our culture, rather than a source of pride. But Jacob bragged about his age. He basically said, "I'm one hundred and thirty--unfortunately not as old as my ancestors got to be..." (see Genesis 47:8, 9). LK: Well, our generation has itself to blame for originating the ageist sentiment "Don't trust anyone over thirty"--now we've become its unwilling casualities. What a long, strange trip it's been, huh? Speaking of which, have you been able to attend any long, strange--or at least interesting--meetings? JS: Only a few, just because I was so busy trying to conquer PowerPoint in preparation for my own. Most of the meetings I caught were excellent, but one kind of concerned me. It was more like a motivational seminar than a Christian presentation. The speaker urged people to associate pleasure with things that were good for them, rather than things that weren't--i.e., take pleasure in a fit body, rather than the taste of cake or some other rich food which would make one fat. I don't have a problem with a little common-sense delay of gratification or self-discipline, but this presentation seemed to say that this was all that we could possibly hope to be motivated by. It seemed to capitalize on the human heart's innate fear of pain and love of pleasure, encouraging people to program these impulses properly. The goal--if I'm not mistaken--was successful "Christian" living. LK: Not to rake the speaker over the coals, whoever he or she was, but when such cognitive and behavior modification techniques are presented as the end-all and be-all of self-transformation, they don't resonate with me either. Even on a purely subjective level, they feel simplistic and deeply unsatisfying. And theologically, they're frankly unbiblical, if they're not presented in the context of the new birth experience. Jesus said, "No one puts a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment; for the patch pulls away from the garment, and the tear is made worse. Nor do they put new wine into old wineskins, or else the wineskins break, the wine is spilled, and the wineskins are ruined. But they put new wine into new wineskins, and both are preserved" (Matthew 9:16, 17, NKJV). Jesus doesn't want to paint an attractive new face on our same old selfish motives. He wants to abide in us through His Spirit and radically transform us from the inside out. JS: To be fair, Paul did say, "I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches." We could say that the apostle was engaging in a little "pleasure association reprogramming," attaching pleasure to social and physical hardships which one would not normally find pleasurable. But here's a little insight. The phrase "I take pleasure" means "to think good." Paul thought good of the things that one would normally think badly of. The irony is that he rejoiced in his pain "for Christ's sake" (See 2 Corinthians 12:9,10). So rather than exercising a supremely selfish form of self-discipline, he was coming completely out of himself and identifying with Christ. This is the key to "successful" Christian living: forget about your own success and think about the success of Christ and His work in this world. God is in the business of transforming us into, not highly disciplined selfists, but others-centered Christians, motivated by love to deny self at its very core. LK: I appreciate that, Jen. At its most essential, Christianity is about relationship--about identifying with and surrendering to a real, divine Person with real thoughts and feelings--not about autonomously reprogramming our thought processes. As I heard a Christian psychiatrist recently remark, "Self cannot manage self." We're fallen beings who need a benevolent Power from outside of ourselves to enable us to transcend our petty motivations. Even secular psychology, which originated the current incarnation of this idea of reprogramming the self, recognizes the moral limitations of the pleasure/pain (reward/punishment) motivation that drives it: Kohlberg's Theory of Moral Development relegates the reward/punishment motivation to the basement of the moral reasoning and maturity scale. As long as we're supremely motivated by our own comfort and success, we can be induced to betray our value system and our Savior--and other people in the process. What do you think? JS: I think Paul was right. Outward obedience, springing from self-interest, is not really obedience. It's covetousness (see Romans 7). Morality apart from transforming grace is an oxymoron--no matter how attractively it's packaged, and no matter how low calorie it may be. LK: I totally agree. Which brings us to the moral of the story: Don't trust anyone over thirty who doesn't eat cake. I mean, what do these motivational speakers have against calories? If they had to deal with my hyperactive metabolism for a few days, they'd be shoveling them in. That's why I trust you, Jen. Even though you're (only slightly) over thirty, you have a healthy respect for the value of a few good calories. JS: And I'm getting over my skinny complex. I realize that, thin as I might be, all that matters is that I'm just a little fatter than Leslie Kay. Somehow that comforts me. LK: By a measly 4 lbs.--with favorable winds and a few rocks in your pockets. But I'm glad I could be a comfort to you. You know, if you're nice to me, I'll tell you the name of a great little 400 calorie food bar I found at the health food store--the Mighty Mouse of healthy, high calorie bars. It's not cake but it's close to it. JS: Well, let me eat almost-cake then. Send me a case of them for Christmas, and I won't need those rocks in my pockets...Sure you want to give me that edge? LK: Sure. What are friends for? |
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