Friday, November 27, 2009

What If We Failed, part two

In our life group, we’re discussing “What If.” This week we talked about the relationship between failure and forgiveness, given that our group thinks failure should be a learning/growing experience in our lives and not just something to hide or avoid at all costs.

Toward the end of our discussion, we talked about one of my favorite themes … redemption. Specifically, how God redeems (makes something beautiful out of something ugly) our failures.

When we or others sin – when we fail, make a mistake, offend – we can either be held hostage by sin, or be freed by forgiveness.

When we don’t choose to forgive, we allow ourselves to be held hostage by sin, whether it’s our sin (for which we punish or berate ourselves) or someone else’s sin (for which we punish or reject them).

When someone sins against us (or when we are grieved by our own sin) we can respond either by focusing on the wrong which has been committed – how rotten, how unfair, how offensive – or by focusing on the opportunity for redemption – “the challenge to manifest God’s healing power.” I know I’ve mentioned this before: how in my own life I have gradually moved from a mindset of consequence (if you hurt me, I’ll unfriend you; if you cheat on me, I’ll divorce you) to a mindset of redemption (I – or we – will try to find the opportunity for redemption in our relationship), because I have experienced the amazing power of God making something beautiful out of something ugly. This is how much I believe in God’s redemptive power in our everyday lives: There is nothing he cannot redeem.

If there is a situation so bad he cannot bring something good out of something bad, then he is not God. Goodness does not really exist. Love has no power. Forgiveness does not matter.

And surely anyone who has experienced the life-changing effects of love and forgiveness and goodness know this is not true. Love changes everything. The power of love is infinite.

There is no offense love cannot redeem.

So, how will we choose to look at failure, our own and others? Yes, it can be serious. It can define relationships. It can change the course of our future. But what (or who) has the last word? Where does the story end?

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

What If We Failed?

Last night our life group talked about the third lesson in our current study, “What If.” The topic was “What if we failed?” and there were two interesting things that we discussed. The first was an excerpt from Rob Bell’s new book “Drops Like Stars,” where he talks about a study that was done with two groups of students in a ceramics class. One group was told they would be graded on quantity – how many pieces they would create over a certain number of weeks. The other group was told they would be graded on quality – the workmanship of a single piece created over the same number of weeks. So, Bell says, which group do you think produced the best work of the highest quality?

It wasn’t the answer I thought it would be. The group that was asked to produce the most also produced the best. Why? Because, researchers found, that group was allowed to try and fail over and over again, and by producing a large number of pieces, the students also learned the best techniques and ended up creating the pieces of highest quality. The other group, they discovered, spent weeks theorizing and planning but didn’t practice as much … and by not failing, they actual were unable to learn how to produce a better quality product than those who learned through trial and error.

Now, this study was not an argument for or against different learning styles … they merely drew out the observation that failure can be – and often is – a necessary part of the learning process. When we discourage or disallow failure, people do not grow as effectively as they would if we allowed failure as part of their learning process.

I know this to be true of my own experience. Here at Fellowship (the church where I serve on staff), I have been given the room to try and fail and learn and grow … in a church environment, no less … and am now much better at my job than I was when I started. Instead of demanding perfection, my mentors have given me room to make mistakes – instead of being condemned for them, they have sought to teach me through them, and I’ve learned lessons in a much more profound way than I would otherwise have grown.

Which really only makes sense, because I’m going to make mistakes whether my boss (or husband or friend) likes it or not.

The second thing that our study drew out was the relationship between failure and forgiveness (but I’ll post that later, since my coworker keeps telling me to shorten my blogs).

How have you experienced failure in your life? Has it been an occasion for misery or for growth?

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

What If

My life group is doing a study right now called “What If…

Yesterday’s topic was “What if we were honest” and our group talked about why we all need a safe place to talk about our daily ups & downs in life. Of course we read James 5:16, “Confess your struggles, faults and sins to each other and pray for each other, so you may be healed, transformed and renewed. The prayer of a person living right with God has great power and wonderful results.”

A book I’m reading has a chapter about this very topic: how we can help each other live out the “kingdom personality” characterized by love, joy, peace, etc. (the fruits of the Spirit). The subheading on page 10 is “Nobody’s Perfect,” a phrase we often use to make each other feel better about our shortcomings. I, for example, have a nasty tendency to be secretly derogatory about people who annoy me. Just in my own head, just my own poisonous thoughts about how annoying they are. And, if I confess this fault to you, you may rush to say “Nobody’s perfect,” and assuage my guilt. That statement may be true (and your intentions kind), but it’s not very productive. Here’s a suggestion from the author of this book:

“Let’s say I confessed to you my disgust with someone who annoyed me and how hopeless I felt about ever loving this person. What if instead of trying to make me feel better by saying, ‘Nobody’s perfect,’ you said you believed in God’s power to transform me into a radical person who pays loving attention to those who annoy me? What if you prayed for me about this? What if later that day you encountered an annoying person and, without thinking, treated that person with kindness and attentiveness—partly because of the transforming effect of our conversation about the kingdom personality?”

It’s a fantastic shift in thinking from “look what a mess I am” to “look how amazing God’s power is to transform us, even me, into a person characterized by his Spirit.” And having others committed to that same vision is powerful! “What if,” indeed.