Building a House

As I was meditating today on Psalms 71-72, chapters that together represent the end of David's life and the beginning of Solomon's reign as king, I was brought back to the historical account of the latter monarch's ascent to the throne.

1 Kings 3 states that Solomon "loved the LORD, walking in the statutes of David his father."  He had inherited his father's habits along with his heritage, and resolved at the outset of his kingship to pursue righteousness before God.  Later, 1 Kings 6 records the long-anticipated building of the temple in Jerusalem, and God's promise to Solomon: "If you will continue to walk in my statues and obey my rules and keep all my commandments and walk in them, then I will establish my word with you... and dwell among the children of Israel and will not forsake them."  At the end of that chapter, the writer records that Solomon devoted seven years to complete the project of building the Lord's temple.

The very next verse, the opening words of chapter 7, states, "Solomon was building his own house thirteen years."

Seven years spent on the Lord's temple, as opposed to thirteen years on his own house.

Some would argue that Solomon's eagerness to complete the temple resulted in the disparate time frames.  However, it's a commonly known fact that Solomon, the wisest king who has ever lived, began a slow descent into the lifestyle he would later lament as "striving after the wind" (Ecc 1.17). Even at the beginning of his reign, where his humble request for wisdom earned him God's favor and blessing, Solomon quickly became enticed by the lure of riches, wealth, and status.  He may have completed his appointed task of building the temple, and may even have devoted a lot of time to it (seven years is certainly nothing to scoff at), but he spent even more time perfecting his own palace and reveling in the wealth that would pour into Jerusalem for the entirety of his reign.

Seven years.  Thirteen years.

In personal study, as well as in lesson planning for my teens, I've repeatedly run up against this issue -- that is, the desire for wealth and a comfortable living.  Examples are prevalent throughout the Scriptures.  The very root of American culture -- the "dream the bigger dream" sentiment -- is also a living testament to the fact that there are far too many people in this world who are making a good living but not living well.  There are far too many people who lose themselves in their own financial planning, putting a little extra toward the mortgage each month while making sure there's still enough set aside for a good vacation come August.  These are far too many people who care more about finally putting that addition on their homes than they do about ministry, and far too many who work themselves into oblivion six days a week before claiming Sunday as their rightful own, as a day to sleep until noon, watch ESPN, and maybe -- if they feel ambitious -- do some projects in the garage.  Any of these are the folks who, like Solomon, are "building their own house for 13 years" -- sometimes even literally.  Instead of dedicating themselves to building up their own temples to God -- that is, developing spiritual disciplines and the type of wholeheartedness that God justly desires from those who claim to be His -- most American Christians find themselves balancing their faith in one hand, and their checkbook in the other.  Many of us distract ourselves from what really matters for the Kingdom by stressing how to split our resources between the vacation fund and July's outrageous electric bill.

Can I just be perfectly blunt?  The obsession we have in this culture with making a good living is a misplaced priority, and almost always a hidden idol.

Spending means Hitler wins!

Sometimes "making a good living" can take on the guise of prudent budgeting.  What we call thriftiness can really be a militant obsession with controlling every last cent that enters the bank account, because spending even one penny too much on anything would invalidate everything we've worked for our entire lives, and perhaps even upset the course of nature.

Sometimes "making a good living" looks like a never-ending quest for just a little bit more financial elbow room -- choosing yet another long night of overtime pay when you haven't been home to see your family in nearly 24 hours, just for a little leg-up this month.

Sometimes "making a good living" means we simply make more than we absolutely need to live on, so we have the luxury of owning a shore house and can tithe in excess of 20 or even 30% without feeling the increase.

In any of these circumstances, it's easy to let our money (or lack thereof) manipulate our decisions.  It's simple to let the income dictate how much we can afford to serve in our local church body, how often date night can happen, and even how much sleep we get at night.  If we're not careful, we can follow the alluring promise of a better salary off the narrow and perhaps uncertain financial path God is leading us down, only to find ourselves stuck in the unforgiving quicksand of the corporate ladder.  Even quality financial planning -- something we all should strive to put into practice -- can become a self-sustained savior that we elevate above the provision God promises.

Everyone knows that Jesus likened the probability of a rich man entering heaven to the likelihood of a camel passing through the eye of a needle (Matt 19.24).  Certainly, not many of us would consider ourselves "rich" -- especially not when we have millionaires living in our neighborhoods (seriously, who else can afford the modern "single family" home?).  Those are individuals who clearly make a few more zeroes each month than we do, so they're the ones to whom we can actually apply the Matthew 19 passage.  "Thank God I'm just making a good living, and not exuberantly wealthy like that guy," we think unconsciously, because comparison is the basis of human existence.  "That's not what I'd do with the money if I had it."  And yet, Christ called us to be imitators of Him, not a people who judge our own standing by the well-being of everyone else on our block.

Regardless of whether we're just barely making ends meet or rolling in the dough, any one of us could don the rich young ruler's shoes.  We all love money.  We work so hard to earn it.  To some degree, we all buy into the worldly philosophy that money above all else brings comfort and security.  That's why Jesus identified the love of money as the root of all kinds of evil practices: the evil of loving money doesn't just mean money laundering or grand theft auto.  It also includes the type of idol worship that occurs when my inability to trust Him with a looming financial deficit drives me to wish that I had the job my next-door neighbor does, because then I wouldn't have to worry.  Any time we consider our own well-being above the glorification of our Savior, we have entered the dangerous "love of money" territory, and thereby opened the door for all kinds of potential evil.

Scrooge McDuck: honorary owner of the very first McMansion.

For all of these reasons, I am convinced that making good money should not be the Christian's priority.  Nor, for that matter, should it be something we encourage our children to do.  Nowhere in the Bible does an apostle say “seek sound employment to make enough money to be happy in this life.”  Nowhere does Christ suggest that we structure our lives around our jobs so that the money-making aspect of our lives becomes the most vital point on which all other facets depend.  The Bible does say, however, that we should trust in God’s provision and cast all of our cares upon Him, because He earnestly cares for us.  The Bible does command that we be hard and honest workers in whatever occupation we find ourselves, because in all things we should strive to bring glory to God through our excellence and diligence.  It also teaches that we are merely stewards of the things we "own" -- meaning that the money flowing out of our bank account as quickly as we stuff it back in isn't really ours to begin with.

In that regard, while landing a good job with exceptional pay is certainly not a sin, we would do well to remember that we live no longer for human passions, but for the will of God (1 Pet 4.1-5).  Making good money is a desire tied to living comfortably in an expensive and bankrupt world that values profit and personal benefit above all else.  While providing for our families is unquestionably a God-ordained priority -- one that we should not take lightly -- we more often than not mislabel our drive to succeed as a sacrifice for our loved ones, when really we're trying to bring in just a little more with each paycheck so that we can keep up our hobbies.  That, or we're working all kinds of odd hours to impress the boss, all in an attempt to finally lasso that elusive promotion.  That kind of pursuit is a good sign that we are operating not with eternity in sight.  It's an indicator that our ultimate focus is not heaven, but the present.

Of course, some might delineate between "pursuing wealth" and "making a good living," insisting that they are in fact walking the narrow track between those two extremes.  I'm not claiming there isn't any middle ground.  I am, however, saying that if we make our aim a comfortable living, then we should check our priorities against the Scriptures.  We get offtrack when we place more emphasis on our finances than on the ultimate purpose of living -- that is, to glorify God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbors as well as we love ourselves.  The fact of the matter is that, if we truly love Him with every fiber of our beings, then we will sacrificially place the needs of others before our own, and the temporal desire for wealth that plagues our culture will naturally find no foothold in our lives.

This post is preachy.  I apologize for the tone, but please understand that it is as much directed at myself as it is an exhortation to anyone who might happen to read it.  I'm a homeowner, a husband, and a full-time ministry employee, and I haven't fully figured this out in my own life yet.  Living modestly and seeking to glorify God with the financial decisions that I make is a difficult process.  Ultimately, I want to be absolutely sure that I'm trusting my well-being to Him above all else, because He is the One who gives and takes away.  In any financial season, I want to practice Job's refrain: "Blessed be the name of the Lord."

I don't want to spend thirteen years building my own house.  I want to devote my time to working on the kingdom.

And that's really the bottom line.

Is it wrong to succeed?  No.  Success can be part of excellence.  Does God bless some with material wealth?  Certainly.  But that is an expression of His overflowing benevolence.  The true blessing He offers is Himself -- not the car we drive, not the dream job we worked years to obtain.  We lose sight of that, because more often than not, financial success is consuming.  It demands our focus and our time, both of which could be better used elsewhere.

One way or another, regardless of where we fall on the scale of wealthiness, we're all builders.  We're all laboring at something.

Some of us are painstakingly plotting the blueprints of our lives, making sure every last detail falls precisely into place, so that we have enough to pay the cable bill and hire the landscapers our cousin recommended, while being sure to put some aside for retirement at the same time.

Some of us are just scraping by right now, without much budge in the budget at all.  So, while we really wish we could afford to build the model with the big front porch and in-ground pool, we'll settle for a roof and four walls while we plan for future investments.  We'll upgrade whenever we finally hit the big time and the money starts to pour in.

Some of us are working on the blueprint that was handed down from the upper management.  That plan is the one that instructs us to build on the foundation that will hold, and to use materials that will weather holy fire.  This is the plan that might seem meager to some, and is probably the most difficult to follow, but it is based entirely on the final result -- a bottom line that was already achieved by the Master Contractor Himself.

We just need to follow carefully in His footsteps.

Self-Made Men

Bobbie Carlyle's "Self-Made Man"

I've been reading through C. J. Mahaney's book Humility: True Greatness with some of my teen guys.  The book is a short little text packed with some incredibly practical statements on humility (surprise).  As we were discussing the last chapter yesterday, I was reminded of the fact that humility is less an action than a characteristic.  It is certainly expressed in action, but is ultimately revealed in attitude.

There's an interesting correlation between humility and greatness, and it's not just a biblical concept.  The idea is that, in order to be great, you first have to be humble.  That's not just a worldly thought - it comes straight from the lips of Jesus in Mark 10: "Whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all."  Whether that means entering a job at the ground floor, writing articles for free before attaining a salary, or simply being willing to allow somebody else to get the credit, the concept of laboring in obscurity in order to eventually achieve recognition isn't a foreign concept.  Its application takes on a number of different faces.  However, where the biblical and secular definitions part ways is in the motivation factor - the aim of humility and its definition of value.

Almost without exception, people see humility as a tool, not a product.  Humility is used to gain something - the respect of so-called "moral" people, the improvement of relationships, the quiet biding of time while waiting for opportunity to arrive.  Maybe humility is even synonymous with "patience," as though it were a guise that can be taken off as soon as its usefulness has passed.  More or less, it's a quality that serves to benefit the wearer - an additive or a conductor.

However, that's not what Jesus taught.  Jesus taught humility in exclusively selfless terms - humility as a lifestyle, humility as a means of expressing love, humility as recognizing the worth and needs of others above my own

One of the primary reasons we as Americans struggle so profoundly on this point is the fact that we continue to live in the waning shadow of the "American Dream" - AKA the do-it-yourself-and-don't-let-anyone-stop-you-from-trying-and-use-any-means-necessary mentality (for further reading, see Great Gatsby, The).  Furthermore, we've all heard and subscribed to the "self-made" terminology, which comes from a speech given by Frederick Douglas - a man who embodies the very definition he gives:

Self-made men […] are the men who owe little or nothing to birth, relationship, friendly surroundings; to wealth inherited or to early approved means of education; who are what they are, without the aid of any of the favoring conditions by which other men usually rise in the world and achieve great results.

To a degree, we all carry the same mentality.  Whether we grew up in want or plenty, there has always been a need for us to "achieve great results" outside of those things.  There has always been the need to determine our own self-worth, because - although the world owes us nothing - we'll be damned if we don't make them wish they did.  We all feel entitled to greatness, and we all feel the challenge of striving to be recognized amidst the infinite tide of other people all striving for the same thing.  We all want to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and define ourselves in the best possible terms.

However, I would make the argument that biblical humility doesn't provide us the opportunity to be "self-made."

Sorry, fellow Americans, but hear me out.

Self-made men primarily value, above all else, their own sense of personal authority and accomplishment.  In other words, we see ourselves as superior in mentality, focus, and ultimate purpose.  Our mission statement on life is that we have the best methodology figured out.  Christians do this through maintaining a sense of doctrinal superiority (i.e. "If you don't believe in speaking in tongues the way I do, then there is clearly an issue with your understanding of the Scriptures!") and quibbling of preferences in church government, church policies, and even church decoration.  Furthermore, we hold this assumed "right" to independent thinking over the heads of anyone who would challenge our opinion.

However, if we strive to be god-fearing men, we should value teachability above our own opinion (Pro 3.1-8).  Instead of insisting - mentally or otherwise - that everyone should share our view on an issue, we should recognize the potential fallibility of our own thinking.  In striving to be god-fearing men, we should value being swift to hear instead of always speaking our minds (Jas 1.19).  Our thoughts on a topic aren't law, and we shouldn't consider them as such.

Self-made men also expect praise for what they achieve, which is why Paul gives the astute reminder in 1 Corinthians that what we may consider achievements are ultimately blessings from God.  Besides, the kingdom of heaven is about equality – not elevation.  I never quite looked at the "last shall be first/first shall be last" passage (Matt 20.1-16) in quite this way before.  I always thought it was about rewarding the poor and debasing the rich, respectively for the priorities each held during their lives.  But it's really about leveling the playing field.  Heaven, while elevating us to a glorified state, also brings everyone to the same humble stature of worship in the presence of the Father.

Even in the Christian community - I dare say especially in the Christian community - we value praise for our accomplishments.  We want to receive recognition for the ministries we perform.  We want people to know about our spirituality.  I once knew a church that printed and laminated "tithe cards" so that anyone who gave electronically could still put something in the offering plate on Sunday morning, lest anyone seated in the pews behind them think they didn't tithe.  The fact of the matter is that it's not truly worship if that's where our focus is.  We should be content, as Luke 17.10, captures it, to be "unworthy servants" who have only performed "what was our duty.”  Jerry Bridges penned it so succinctly in Respectable Sins: "Are we willing to labor in obscurity, doing our job as unto the Lord, or do we become disgruntled over the lack of recognition?"  The god-fearing man checks his heart in this manner, seeking to give God the glory for anything the Father may accomplish through him and retaining no recognition for himself (2 Cor 12.10).

Self-made men pursue only their own desires.  Maybe that seems like an unfair blanket statement, but we all have an agenda.  Again, this struggle is not only found in the secular community: remember James' warning that quarrels and disagreements are, above all else, the result of the selfish pursuit of passions (Jas 4.1).  In fact, he cites gainful pursuit as the root of all problems in church bodies, and encourages humility as the end which we should seek instead.

Consider King Solomon, once the wisest on earth - not to mention the most humble: when presented with the opportunity to ask God for anything, he chose wisdom instead of riches or prestige.  However, once those things began to come of their own accord, Solomon set off down the path of elevating the pursuit of pleasure over the pursuit of righteousness.

Consider also Ayn Rand, who summed up the objectivist (AKA secular humanism in disguise) viewpoint by its moral purpose - namely the "achievement of your happiness."  She adds the qualification that the goal is happiness as opposed to mindless self-indulgence, because such abstention is the proof "moral integrity" and "loyalty to the achievement of your values."  Maybe what she is describing is reasonable, and maybe this rationalization is where most people fall - living reasonably, pursuing their own well-being but not to the detriment of self or others - and maybe that's a justifiable position to maintain, but it still conflicts with the pursuits of humility, which demands that we give of ourselves and not seek only to advance.

In fact, the god-fearing man should be prepared to sacrifice, suffer, and be content in all things - no matter his circumstances (Acts 20.35; 1 Tim 6.6-10).  As a matter of fact, Christ insisted that anyone who intended to follow in his footsteps would need to take up a cross on his or her own shoulders.  The Christian life is all about putting ourselves on the line - our physical and emotional well-being.  We are to be prepared to suffer, not because we love pain but because we love the limitless glory of God's righteousness more than the short-lived thrill of being applauded by fellow men.  God's goal for our lives is sanctification, not happiness - although when we are truly satisfied with Him and Him alone, happiness becomes transcendent joy, which persists despite our circumstances.

The reality is that if we strive to be "self-made," then we aren't relying upon the power which God supplies, nor are we recognizing ourselves as the work of His hands.  That's why we can't strive to be "self-made" and also humble ourselves the way the Bible would require, because the very roots of independence deny the need for God.  If we can do it on our own, we don't have any need of assistance - Divine or otherwise.  This is why Jesus' definition of greatness in Mark 10 is so radically different than what we have in mind.

In simplest terms, biblical greatness has nothing to do with image and everything to do with character.  That is, God's character.  It has absolutely nothing to do with ability - in fact, it has everything to do with lack thereof.  When we are weak, He is strong.  While we have a tendency to place "great" men and women on pedestals because they done tremendous things which have influenced us in some way, God doesn't see greatness as how many people we touch.  To Him, what matters ultimately is the condition of our hearts.

Consider Jesus' words to the disciples in Luke 22.  "Who is the greater," He asked them, just prior to His arrest in the garden, "the one who reclines at table or one who serves him?  Is it not the one who reclines at table?"  Logically, that is the correct answer, and it was exactly that position of honor that the disciples were fighting over.  There was no one present to wash their feet at the last supper, an error of decorum that would have been glaringly obvious, but no one was willing to get up and perform the task himself because of how degrading it was.

So Jesus turned the tables on them.

"I am among you as the one who serves," he continued, wrapping a towel around his waist and performing the ungainly task without hesitation.  Suddenly, he has thrown their preoccupation with status into an unpleasant light.  If Jesus, God incarnate, was willing to get down on his knees and serve in such a humiliating manner, if he was willing to sacrifice his life in such a painful and debased way to ransom a people who offered him no regard, then clearly God's measure of greatness excludes image altogether.  In God's economy, recognition and a self-made name aren't the measure of true greatness.

While the biblical application of humility doesn't deny us our aspirations, strengths, or accomplishments, it does redirect our focus.  As C. J. Mahaney puts it, "Ultimately, our Christian service exists only to draw attention to this source - to our crucified and risen Lord who gave Himself as a ransom for us all."  In other words, regardless of what we dream of doing with our lives, it should fit into the bracket of humbly pointing people to Christ.  So while it isn't wrong to strive for success in your field or to aim for excellence at what we do (which, by the way, is also a biblical command), our desires and ambitions should be informed by our understanding of the gospel.  "True greatness," Mahaney continues, "is not even possible for us apart from the Savior's unique sacrifice," because true greatness is on par with selfless humility.

We need to find our identity in Christ, not find a way to fit Christ into the rubric of our life goals.  We need to forgo what our culture would call our "natural right" - our right to recognition and freedom - choosing instead to live worshipfully, sacrificially, in a servantile manner, willingly making ourselves the slave to all.

None of this is possible without first understanding humility.