Life as Geek

I was just reading the passage in Matthew where Jesus tries yet again to explain to his disciples just what life following Him is really all about. They don’t get it, which is easy to look at and laugh nowadays. (I’ve been keeping a mental tally of the number of times Jesus predicted His death and resurrection — and yet the disciples were surprised when it happened! Talk about deluding yourself out of the truth!)

But on the other hand, I don’t think we really get it most of time, either.

I’m in chapter 20, and I’m talking about Servant Leadership. I capitalized that because the term is really overused in protestant Christian circles, to the point where we forget what it really means.

So in this story, James, John and their mom have this plan. They want to be reigning with Christ in His kingdom. Now really, this isn’t as audacious a request as it seems at first glance, because just a few chapters ago Jesus already told them that they’d be judging the twelve tribes of Israel — with the other disciples. What’s got the others so upset about this request is that J&J have asked to be put over the other disciples, on top of ruling everybody else!

Is it me, or does this sound really familiar?

Of course Jesus defuses the situation and says something totally crazy — a) that in order to lead, you have to serve and b) that even Jesus has to give Himself up to the point of giving up His life. (chalk another one up on the board, please)

If I were a disciple, I bet I’d be focusing a lot more on that last part. They probably didn’t learn this lesson, at least not right away.

This blog is only nominally anonymous, so there’s a good chance that some of you know I have had experiences with several Christian organizations, both church and para-church. And I can tell you first hand that we have still not learned this lesson. I know for sure that I haven’t.

Get any group of people together, Christians or not, and there will be politics. People will talk behind each other’s backs. Middle management will be in and out of favor with the Big Bosses, and the peons will be used, leaned on or even totally ignored. If you’ve never worked for a Christian company you may not believe that a group of Christians, who are there to serve God, could be capable of this. But trust me, it happens.

Christians just use different wording.

When you want to gossip, you say “can I ask you to pray about this?” When you’re presenting your favorite idea you say “God can do the impossible” if anyone tells you it must fail. And when you want to rise in the ranks, you call yourself a “Servant Leader” and talk about how God is really at the top of the company.

That’s not to be down on Christian companies, or to say that all of the above is always bad. But Christians are still people. And very few have learned what Matthew 20 means.

What is a Servant Leader? It’s someone who doesn’t demand that their projects and ideas always come first. It’s someone who knows everyone — not because of what they can do for them, but because they want to know them. It’s someone who loves God so much that they can’t help but love people, just because God loves people. It’s someone who thinks what your heart looks like is more important than what label suit you wear. It’s someone who cares more about the project than who’s in charge of it. It’s someone who gives up their rights. It’s someone who doesn’t name drop. It’s someone who steps in whenever and wherever they can help.

There’s a lot to it. But mostly, I think it’s someone who wouldn’t think to capitalize Servant Leader and make it a title. They’re just too busy being one.

I’ve always felt a sort of disconnect from my name. My last name is ugly. That’s about as plain as I can put it. It’s hard to spell, hard to pronounce, and hard for other people to read. Sometime that’s funny, like when telemarketers try to call. But it can wear on you after having to explain it to say, all the employees of your new workplace.

I’ve never felt that my name was indicative of who I am.

Do most people feel that way? Maybe I’m the only one, but to me my name, the one I was born with, is nothing more than an odd-sounding identification number, that I’ve trained myself to answer to when needed.

I’d heard about Native American tribes where people got to basically choose a name that fit them when they became an adult. I thought that kind of thing would really help me when I was younger. And there’s plenty of people who “go by” something other than their legal name — a nickname, initials, or a middle name.

But recently, I changed my name. I finally rid myself of the last name that’s been bothering me for so long, and picked one that I really loved, that had special meaning behind it. And you know what? It still doesn’t mesh with my idea of me, of who I am.

Because that’s what this is really all about. We change our names or nicknames because we want something that we identify with, that says who we really are, or at least who we want other people to think we are. When people think of my name, they think of me, so I want it to represent me as well as it can. Which leads me to what I think the problem is:

I don’t really know who I am.

Well, I have a pretty good idea, I think. But I’m not sure it’s possible to truly, totally know yourself, at least not on Earth. And that’s why I can’t find my true name.

But guess what? (And this is why I’m rambling about all this.) God already named me. I was looking at some of the rewards mentioned in the beginning of Revelation (where Jesus is talking to the churches), and one is a white rock with your name on it — your real, true name that God gave you when you were first created. People have thought of all kinds of reasons why this might matter — magicians have talked about the power of someone’s true name, etc — but to me, the point is simple and clear.

God knows you. And what’s great is, He’ll help you know yourself, as you really are. How cool is that?

I was reading an unrelated commentary by David Stern the other day and I came across this thought-provoking aside: “pride, and the reverse-sin of embarrassment”.

Is embarrassment a sin?

I’ve not yet seen it specifically mentioned in a biblical sin-list — “Thou shalt not be embarrassed” for example, or “Those evil-doers who are embarrassed”. A quick check of the NIV doesn’t pull up any results for “embarrass” at all.

But then again, if I switch to The Message, I see Luke 9:26 – (Jesus speaking) “If any of you is embarrassed with me and the way I’m leading you, know that the Son of Man will be far more embarrassed with you when he arrives in all his splendor in company with the Father and the holy angels. This isn’t, you realize, pie in the sky by and by.” (also see Mark 8:38)

Ok, so the pie in the sky bit is a little strange, but I’m interested to see what other versions do with this verse. NIV and NASB both say “ashamed of me” (and no, no mention of pie). Aha! A search for “ashamed” brings up all kinds of verses, most notably 2 Timothy 1:7-9 :

“For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline. So do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord, or ashamed of me his prisoner. [Paul is speaking] But join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God, who has saved us and called us to a holy life – not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace.”

(btw, awesome passage talking about the gift of God given to Timothy and what he should do with it now – go read it, it’s great!)

I think I had a wrong image in my head of sin. After all, you put pride on the list (something I know I constantly struggle with) and I start thinking of the 7 deadlys and, obviously, Brad Pitt. Hard to remember sometimes what sin actually is – not just bad things you do, but good things you don’t do, and perhaps even more importantly, your heart’s attitude when you them.

I’ve certainly been too embarrassed of being called a Christian to “testify about our Lord” before, especially in situations where my faith was being mocked. And I’ve been ashamed to be called a Christian because of other Christians too, although I think that’s not all my fault sometimes. (but that’s another discussion)

When my heart isn’t identifying as a follower of Jesus, then there’s something wrong with my heart. Even if I’m afraid, or if I know that the result would be persecution, it doesn’t give me an excuse to lay low and pretend I’m not who I am. That’s denying Him just as much as if I had said it aloud. And therefore, sin.

So is embarrassment sin? In and of itself, I don’t see any biblical backup for that. But when it comes to God, Jesus and other true followers of Jesus – we can’t be ashamed to be identified. Our hearts belong to Him, and as such should always be willing to declare it.