God Only Knows
While preparing dinner the other evening, I paused to flip through the television channels and came to rest at an old Everybody Loves Raymond episode. Ray's sister-in-law, Amy, had stopped by to visit his wife, Debra, who was not at home. Amy seized the moment, as well as Ray's moment with the basketball game on television, and shared her day in more detail than Ray was ready to absorb. Soon enough, Amy discovers her brother-in-law's discontent with their visit. Confronting him with the observation that he thinks she talks too much, she figures it's because he has nothing interesting to say at all. Period. Her words are designed to wound, which they do, but then Amy and Ray come to the heart of the matter. Amy loves Ray's quirky family, even his loud, interfering, obnoxious parents, and she truly wants to know him better too. Ray is incredulous at the revelation, and is even more stunned that Amy is pleased her in-laws are themselves around her because it means they are comfortable with her. Amy and Ray come to a better understanding in this conversation and seem to find some common ground, and a little more closeness.
It's interesting how much our human relationships reflect our own feelings about other people, and so rarely include what the other person is feeling or thinking. What we are usually interacting with in conversation with other people is the image in our own heads of who we perceive them to be. To be confronted, positively or negatively, by who the individual really is is nothing less than a shock. How dare they step out of our imaginations into reality and expect us to deal with them as they really are!
It is equally interesting to me how we interact with God on such a minimal, acquaintance-like level, this God who created us and knows us better than we know ourselves. Like Amy trying to explain her desire to feel close to a family from which Ray would rather run away, God's efforts to be included in our lives are frequently brushed aside for so many other things, including images of God that have nothing to do with our Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer.
Going back to Amy and Ray, his original complaint with her is that she talks too much and won't leave him be in peace with his game and his beer. Getting comfortable with our own routines is very common, and very human, and Ray isn't alone in his desire to enjoy this time he has carved out for himself. But Amy is so excited about her unexpectedly good purchase, the lovely interaction with the sales associate and her whole life, that all she sees is an opportunity to include her brother-in-law in her joyful celebration of being. Who could blame her?
Considering Amy's excitement and pleasure in including Ray, I wonder how many times we have each turned a deaf ear and an irritated heart to God's delight in including us in this incredible creation all around us. If we are more focused on what usually pleases and consoles us in our routines, how much of the unusual grace of God are we missing because it is an inconvenience, a bother that we wish would go away?
When Amy and Ray sort through their relational snag it is quite clear that Ray sees no point in getting to know his own family any better, and he can't understand why anyone with a clear mind would want to either. But Amy sees things differently, understanding the value in simply getting to know people for who they are with no agenda for changing them into who she thinks they should be. She has no motive other than love. She just loves her new family, doesn't even really expect them to love back, at least not in preconceived ways. She hopes they feel comfortable with her. That is all.
While we are called to love God, ourselves and each other, God leaves it up to us to decide how and where to fit that into our lives. It isn't always convenient to care for one another. Death and illness don't coordinate their schedules with family vacations and the Super Bowl. Babies are born and kittens need rescuing when the time is at hand. Parents and grandparents don't always age gracefully and need us when they need us. Friends have seemingly unimportant life-altering information and events to share with us when we would rather be watching our favorite programs on television or soaking in bubbly, hot baths. It is often said that God's timing is perfect, but we still struggle mightily against that wisdom when we have planned and prayed and hoped against hope that what we want, whatever it is, can be ours.
Our timing isn't necessarily off, just not always in sync with God's. If we can see the wisdom of the seeming lack of synchronicity, we can begin to catch a glimpse of a God, our God, finding ways to draw us closer, to help us be more comfortable in God's own presence in our lives.
Bonus Rounds and Treasures
Ken Jennings, a software engineer from Salt Lake City, Utah, best known as Jeopardy's winningest contestant ever, became known this week for apparently biting the hand that has fed him very, very well. Personal comments on his website this past Monday criticized both the show's format and its long-time host, Alex Trebek. About the show itself: "You're the Dorian Gray of syndication. You seem to think 'change' means replacing a blue polyethylene backdrop with a slightly different shade of blue polyethylene backdrop every presidential election or so." About Mr. Trebek: "I know, I know, the old folks love him" After the media reacted negatively to his comments, calling him ungrateful, among other things, Jennings clarified his comments, saying he meant them as a "humor piece." Mr. Jennings stated that, "For the record, I've loved Jeopardy since I was a kid, as anyone who talks to me for more than five minutes knows. Making goofy jokes about TV shows isn't bashing. I believe it's the whole reason Al Gore invented the internet."
It seems to be a good thing Mr. Jennings amassed a solid nest egg from his time spent on that retro-fitted, old-fashioned program. His sense of humor may cost him more than he has bargained for.
In another way, the story of Colonel Bruce Hollywood is also about accumulated wealth and personal perspective. Earlier this year, Col. Hollywood awoke to crushing chest pain. As the highlights of his life flashed before him, he remembered his adoptive mother, who had already passed on, urging him to find his Japanese mother. And so, with some help from Ryoso Kato, the Japanese Ambassador to the United States, he did. USAToday.com reported that, "According to Hollywood and his mother, Nobue Ouchi, who was interviewed through an interpreter, their story is about a dream fulfilled and a rich life made richer."
Ms. Ouchi always knew she would see her son again. They met when Hollywood went to Japan in April, and she is visiting him this week. Col. Hollywood had enjoyed what he called a "charmed life." He was raised in a loving family, married and raised two children of his own, and thoroughly enjoyed his career. He reflected that, "At that moment when I looked back at my life, I really thought that in the game of life, I won. This whole new world opened up to me, and it's like I get to play a bonus round." His mother's dream came true, and his heart grew fuller.
Considering the stories of these two men, I am more sure than ever that money and publicity do not do anything more than highlight who we already are. I do not know Ken Jennings or Bruce Hollywood personally. But I do know who I would want to invite to my home for dinner and conversation.
My understanding of Jesus' reflections concerning treasures is also a little clearer now. "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matthew 6:19-21)."
My Aunt Joanne used to quote this scripture during a key transition point in her life. Facing the reality that her aging parents would need additional care, she and my Uncle Bert decided to sell their much-loved home in Oak Lawn, a suburb of Chicago, and build a home in Orland Park, another Chicago suburb, that had room for the type of house they wanted to create that would accommodate everyone's needs. While they recognized the new subdivision as a place with larger lots and good floor plans, the marketing plan touted the affluence and prestige of the area. My poor aunt, trying to do right by her family, didn't want her motives to be misconstrued in any way, shape or form, by her friends, her family or her God. Her wealth had always been invested in her faith, and that's where she wanted to keep it.
My guess is that God doesn't particularly care how much money we accumulate over the years, but does care about how much richness we accumulate in our hearts over the course of our lifetimes. Jesus' words from Matthew's gospel aren't so much critical of those who pay attention to their finances, handling their money responsibly, as much as they are an opportunity to remember our priorities. Material wealth is a blessing born of the well-managed gifts of God's grace in our lives. If we begin to believe otherwise, somehow our hearts have shifted into believing we are running the show and have done everything in our lives on our own. Ken Jennings did achieve something extraordinary on Jeopardy, there is no denying that. But somehow the rich gifts he brought to that experience have become obscured in his attempt at humor at the expense of those who supported him in his efforts to reach his goal.
Bruce Hollywood and my Aunt Joanne seem to have gotten the balance right on this material riches versus the heart treasures that Jesus spoke of. I have no clue what my aunt's net financial worth was at the time of her death, or what Mr. Hollywood is worth on paper at this writing. But it is apparent to me who has been assisting them in amassing the great treasures in their hearts.
