The Pursuit of Holiness

In 1993, I read a tiny book called The Pursuit of Holiness, by Jerry Bridges of Navigators, a college ministry.  It revolutionized my approach to life and faith.  Through my reading of the book, God pulled and pushed me to new levels of understanding about the concept of holiness, new levels of desire to seek holiness.  I fall short every day, but thanks to this book, I am ever seeking.

 

Flash forward twelve years.  In looking ahead to a holiday season where I will not have classes, I have contemplated what books I want to plow through.  I decided to buy a copy of The Pursuit of Holiness.  I look forward to reading it again, twelve years later in my faith journey, and seeing how I have or haven't applied its lessons over the past twelve years.  Most of all, I look forward to God using it to make stronger my desire for personal holiness. 

Start From the Heart

We talked in our politics class today about how actions ("I did X action") beget habits ("I am in the habit of doing X"), which beget character ("it is in my character to do X"), which beget customs ("it is our collective custom to do X"), which beget institutions ("we have institutions to reinforce our doing X").  Governments sometimes try to change people, but because they come at things from an institutional level – setting up agencies, instituting rules – they don't tend to be very effective in getting people to change.

 

Some of my fellow students made the connection to religious institutions, some of which have been very effective in changing peoples' behavior.  What is interesting to note, in light of this paradigm of actions-habits-character-customs-institutions, is that indeed those institutions that have been most successful have been those that have not started from the institutional level in either their method or message.  In other words, they are not themselves big bureaucracies, nor do they invite interested adherents with bureaucratic routines, like rituals or ceremonies.  Rather, they are usually smaller, home-based groups (or if larger organizations, their main thrust of outreach and welcoming is through smaller cell groups), and they usually proclaim heart changes, dealing with behavioral issues at the core rather than on an external or ceremonial level. 

 

I do believe government as a role to play in issues of character – not to teach a certain religion or enforce a certain moral code, but to provide a framework for helping people make good choices that will be good for them and beneficial to society, like not smoking or driving carefully or selling safe medications.  But there is an institution that I believe is called to help change human behavior, and that is the Church with a capital C.  And it can, as an institution, best lead that change by starting from the heart.

Even Better

Last month, I wrote about how being a dad has helped me see how sometimes I can be a baby before God, in that I fuss about an immediate inconvenience without having the perspective that perhaps God is using that inconvenience to prepare something even better for me. I have kept that thought in my head, and I think as I’ve used that viewpoint to help me be a more patient parent, I am better understanding God’s perspective.

For example, sometimes Jada will cry when she wants her last bottle of the night and I’m slow in giving it to her because I first want to change her, make sure the bottle is the right temperature, and get her bed prepared. So I’ll gently tell her, “You want the bottle now, but I want to give you something even better: a bottle that is the right temperature, a dry set of clothes, and a bed that is all ready for you to sleep all night long in.” My way out of feeling impatient (not that I always take the way) is to remember that she’s just a baby, and doesn’t understand. But no matter that she doesn’t understand; I can still take the crying and still take delight in taking my time with the bottle, because I know that while I might not be giving her what she’s immediately asking for, I’m preparing something even better.

And so it is with God, I think. Though He wants us to mature beyond infancy, He’s still big enough to take our occasional wailing, because He takes delight that as we fuss, still He’s preparing something even better. And ultimately, that’s what brings the most pleasure to a Father’s heart.

Blogging or Studying

Despite the heavy load of reading and writing I have for my classes, I can’t help but do a fair amount of reading and writing outside of school. Sometimes, even when a paper is hanging over my head, blogging seems to take precedent: I read an interesting article in a newspaper or magazine, and off I go to contribute my two cents to the blogosphere.

Maybe I’m just trying to justify my way of procrastinating, but it occurs to me that perhaps it isn’t a bad thing to blog instead of study. Perhaps, blogging is studying, in that it is part of my growth as a student. By responding to current events and provocative op-eds, I am processing my personal positions and sharpening my analytical skills. Maybe grad schools in subjects like government or political science ought to require students to blog, as a disciplined way to keep a diary of what you’re learning and how it relates to what is going on in the world.

Of course, maybe my blog will get me into trouble down the road. By recording my musings over time, perhaps I’ll have some label stuck onto me or I’ll be accused of flip-flopping on an issue. But I’ll take my chances with that and keep on “procrastinating” in this way.

Two Missions Agencies I Respect Face Off

After blasting Western missionaries in its most recent issue and in a book, Christian Aid Mission (CAM) became the blastee, as the US Center for World Mission (USCWM) spent half of its most recent issue responding to CAM’s points. I subscribe to both agencies, both literally and figuratively, so my head is spinning and I’m left with more questions than answers and more issues to crunch on than resolution to stand on.

To get you up to the present: CAM’s stand is that most Western missions activity (say, a Canadian Presbyterian church sending a family to be missionaries in Peru) is inferior to indigenous activity (say, a Peruvian who comes to America, becomes a Christian, and then returns to Peru to start churches and spread the gospel). This is because the Peruvian knows the language and culture better, and costs a lot less money to support. Not only does CAM consider Western missions activity to be inferior, though, it finds it counter-productive. As in, it’s not OK to say, “Well, we can have both, even if one is more effective than the other.” And that’s because Westerners coming into poorer countries cause all sorts of problem, whether it be suspicion of alterior motives, subconscious patronizing of the locals, great discrepancies in notions of standard of living, or the outright impossibility of entering a country because it is legally closed to missionaries.

USCWM does not itself send missionaries but is on the cutting edge of thought, training, and support for those who do send missionaries, mostly to what are considered unreached people groups (i.e. places where no one who speaks the language or is indigenous to the culture is currently a Christian). So it feels it can criticize without looking like it’s just trying to protect its business model. Their main points in disagreeing with CAM are: 1) missionaries, by definition, are ministering outside their culture, for if you are ministering inside your culture, that work is considered evangelism; 2) sometimes faraway missionaries are more effective than those next door, because those next door might not know the language either and might be more poorly received because of various ethnic conflicts; 3) why would Christian Aid be so harsh in rejecting an entire category of people and groups that are seeking to preach the gospel, except that it is a fundraising tactic to get more people to send money their way.

Again, I have a lot to think about, but here are some initial impressions:

* The lead guy at USCWM starts his Page One letter by telling a story of a Western missionary couple who arrived in China and were able to make an impression on a little girl whose parents had warned her not to associate with those Christians. Instead, she disobeys her parents, visits the missionaries’ house, sees the husband and wife treat each other with respect, and decides that Christianity is for her. She ends up converting, and her grandson is a prominent believer in China. I have a problem with this story. While I am all for the gospel speaking into things like gender roles and oppression, and I do believe God does use situations like this to model to people how Christian people ought to act, it strikes a nerve with me because it equates acts of marital love familiar to Westerners (opening doors, for example) and makes it look like the girl’s parents were brutish and unloving. I think this is one of CAM’s points, that Chinese people would know better how to model a redeemed, Chinese marriage to unredeemed Chinese couples than a Western couple loving each other in Western ways. Maybe I’m being overly sensitive and cold-hearted, but again, these are first impressions, and after reading this initial story on Page One, that was my first impression.

* Even though these two organizations disagree fundamentally, I think I can still agree with them both without diluting eithers’ message. CAM saves its strongest words for Western groups that send missionaries to places where a strong native presence is in place, and in fact those are the places where Western missionaries would be most inferior and most detrimental. USCWM is focused more on places where not only is there not a strong native presence, but no native Christian presence at all. They talk about two stages of reaching a culture, and focus on the first stage (missions in its purest sense) and acknowledge that CAM makes good points about how the second stage (evangelism, see above) can be best done.

* Both go to the New Testament to validate their positions. CAM says there is no account of a true cross-cultural missionary; all are either people from various countries coming to Jerusalem, getting saved, and then going back to their native cultures, or people like Paul who are bi-cultural and able to effectively communicate the gospel to their own people. USCWM counters that all those who were coming to Jerusalem were Jews, scattered by various persecutions, who by their diligence to the Law gained adherents in their adopted countries. Thus, they were all, in a sense, cross-cultural missionaries, these pre-Christians (at the time, the people they converted were known as “God-fearers,” and were usually the ones who received the gospel most easily once Paul and others came around).

* While I am a huge fan of Christian Aid Mission and know they mean well and made their criticisms with great reluctance, it is dangerous to bash people who are preaching Jesus. Their founder also admits in a response to a draft of the USCWM issue that sometimes he plays up the effectiveness of native missionaries and downplays the effectiveness of foreign ones (i.e. Westerners in non-Western countries). Nevertheless, if you believe that a certain way that a large group of people is doing something as important as missions is not only inferior but counterproductive, you should criticize and you should be vehement about it.

That’s all I got for now. Maybe my wife, with whom I got into a heated discussion as I was processing through these issues, will post something, too, to contribute to the conversation. Amy?

Earthy Prayers

Since the day we got Jada, I've tried to read her one or two or three psalms.  We're up to the mid-70's now.  When we run out of Psalms, I'll probably move over to the Proverbs.

 

Early this week, I purchased Eugene Peterson's contemporary English version of the Psalms.  In his intro to this book, he talks about how most of our English translations render the Psalms into these epic and elegant Victorian-style prayers, when in fact the original Hebrew is much earthier and desperate.  Peterson's translation reminds us that when we pray to God, we don't have to have our words together, just like we don't have to have our act together. 

 

In fact, without doing an inventory of verses, I would venture to say that most of the Psalms is desperate cries for help, woeful laments of sadness, and scathing requests for vengeance.  Not the kind of flowery, pious tone you normally associate with the Psalms. 

 

So I've taken to reading this version to Jada.  Not necessarily because I want her to know this grittier translation, but because in reading Peterson's rendition to her I get to read it for myself and rediscover the earthiness of when God's people pray. 

The Difference between Brad Pitt and 50 Cent

There has been some noise in the blogosphere about how much uproar there is over the billboard of gun-toting 50 Cent versus the lack of uproar over the billboard of gun-toting Brad Pitt.  Meaning that people get all worked up about a black man holding a gun and let the white man hold the gun without saying a word.

 

But I don't necessarily buy that this is all that's going on.  For one, I know of the person who led the protest here in Philadelphia against the 50 Cent billboard.  Bilal Qayyum of Concerned Black Men has been a forceful voice against violence in a city that has seen its homicide rate increase, particularly among young black men.  He is right in saying that the 50 Cent billboard, with a chiseled young rapper with do-rag, gat, and microphone, glorifies violence in a way that is not helpful in our neighborhoods.  I don't know that Mr. Qayyum would think that the Brad Pitt billboard would be equally unhelpful, or maybe even unhelpful at all.   I don't think this is an instance of white people getting a pass and black people getting hassled, because I think there's a difference in the visual imagery between the Brad Pitt billboard and the 50 Cent billboard.  But maybe I'm being racist.  Either way, I agree with Mr. Qayyum, and salute his efforts in getting the 50 Cent billboard out of our communities.

 

Speaking of large public images, I'm reminded of one of the first tough decisions I had to make in my career at The Enterprise Center.  In 1997, I was working on commissioning a public mural less than a block from our facility.  We landed a funding source, secured a world-renowned mural artist, and got the permission of the property owner.  And everyone involved agreed that a young basketball phenom named Kobe Bryant would be a good subject for the mural.  He was from the Philadelphia suburbs, had just made the then-shocking leap from high school to the pros, and was lighting up the NBA in his first season.  All that was left for me to do was to get the community's buy-in, an important prerequisite by the standards of the city's mural arts program.  I figured this would be a (no pun intended) slam-dunk.

 

But the principal of the Catholic high school that was across the street from the proposed mural site balked.  I went down to her office to try to convince her otherwise, but left myself being convinced of her position.  Quite simply, she put it: "I work so hard to convince my kids that it's important to go to college, and that the chances of hitting it big in athletics is slim to none.  By glorifying a young black man who skipped college and hit it big in athletics, you'll be undoing everything I'm trying to do."  I backed off.

 

I've looked back on that decision a number of times since then.  You can question the merits of whether Kobe could be a good role model – he speaks fluent Italian, but he's not really from urban Philadelphia, but he's articulate and intelligent, but there's that rape charge thing – but what it boiled down to for me was the power of public art to convey a message, even if that message is ever so subtle: "I know it's a long shot to put your hopes in athletics, but Kobe did it so maybe I can too."  I think I made the right decision, and I think I made it for the right reasons, and I'm glad it was a tough decision because I grew from the experience.  But sometimes when I pass by the proposed mural site, I wonder what a picture of Kobe would look like there. 

 

By the way, we turned the project over to someone else, and now there's a mural of activist Paul Robeson, who is a much better role model to Catholic students and neighborhood residents than Kobe Bryant.  So the story does have a happy ending.

Sharing

I love recycling.  To use something once and then throw it out physically hurts me.  I especially love when things get circulated between people.  My dad bought me a low-end Mac during my freshman year in college, and I squeezed the life out of it for four years and then one more year out of college, before passing it down to my sister for her freshman year in college, and then she had it for another five years.  I have been the owner and borrower of clothes, bikes, and tools, and every single time something gets transacted, I'm loving how we didn't have to throw something away, let it idle, or have to buy one for ourselves.

 

So while you'll never catch me living in a commune, I do like when communities share.  Which is why this morning was so cool.  Before I left with my wife and daughter for the morning service, I dropped off some hand-me-down clothes that one family had given us to pick through, and then dropped off to another family a turkey I'd earned through my grocery store that I wasn't planning on using for Thanksgiving.  Both times, though my interactions with these families were brief, as I was making the drop I was thinking about how nice it is to share, and how nice it is to be in a church family that shares.  We are so much richer when we do this kind of thing. 

Is It Possible to Think in More Than Two Dimensions Racially

Yesterday, I read an editorial in Asian Week lamenting the relative black-and-white nature of race relations discussions in this country (i.e. when people think of race issues in America, the predominant lens by far is the black-white one).  I had this in mind when I picked up this weekend version of the Wall Street Journal this morning and found a second, although different, two-dimensional race-based story.

 

There on the front page was my high school, Lynbrook, as well as our arch-rivals, Monta Vista, singled out as two academically gifted schools that are losing white people.  Not because of what you normally associate with "white flight" (i.e. rich whites leaving schools and neighborhoods because poor blacks are moving in).  Rather, because the growing proportion of smart Asian kids is causing the white kids to become a shrinking minority group, in many cases left to feel inferior and intimidated by the perception that Asian kids are smarter and Asian parents more demanding.  Many of the quotes by white kids and families in the article had a tone, some more blatant than others, of resentment.  Cupertino, where Monta Vista and Lynbrook draw most of its kids, is now almost 50% Asian, and white families are beginning to avoid the town altogether for reasons mentioned above.

 

I could go on and on about the article itself, but my immediate frame of reference (aside from the fact that I was excited that my high school made the front page of the Wall Street Journal, and bummed because our arch-rival got the front page photo and we didn't) was the Asian Week editorial.  I noticed in the Wall Street Journal article that there was no mention of the other racial and ethnic groups that attend these schools.  However small their proportion, it would have been an interesting part of the story, if in fact you are going to tell this story from a racial standpoint, to get a sense of how other racial and ethnic groups are feeling about these issues of "Asian invasion" and "white flight," of "the nerdy Asian kid" and "the stern Asian parent."

 

Instead, the story was exclusively about the Asian-white dynamic.  Just like most race-based stories in our country are about the black-white dynamic.  Is it possible for people to think past two dimensions racially, and have meaningful dialogue about the complexities involved when multiple racial and ethnic groups interact?  Because that is our reality in this country.  But to read mainstream media is to only get two-dimensional slices of that reality. 

Winners and Losers

Every Friday afternoon, my school brings in a respected leader to speak to the students about their field of expertise.  This semester, we have had people from the hospital management, transportation consulting, and public housing industries, for example.  I marked today's lecture on my calendar because it was a person whose career and character I respect, David Thornburgh of the Pennsylvania Economy League (PEL).  I had the privilege of working closely with David during my ten years at The Enterprise Center, which he helped found sixteen years ago and of which he is the current board chair. 

 

An insight I gained from David's remarks was the importance of the political process in implementing policy initiatives.  PEL does some great analysis of policy issues and makes sound recommendations on what Philadelphia can do to improve itself.  I always leave a PEL report or event feeling like I understand an issue and can see how their recommendations would bring about positive change for our city. 

 

The tricky thing about policy changes is that they are implemented by politicians and through a political process.  And while an idea might make sense when you consider the big picture, it usually tends to have its winners and losers.  For example, you can make the case that changing the way property tax is calculated in this city will be an overall benefit for Philadelphia.  But that benefit is not evenly distributed to all interested parties.  There will be some winners and some losers. 

 

I understood half of this reality already.  After all, whenever you change something, you will have winners and losers.  To take the property tax example, there will be some people who will pay more and some who will pay less.  Clearly, the changes will be harder to accept by those who will pay more.  That's where the politicking and the compromising and the finagling comes in.

 

David described a second set of winners and losers: the politicians themselves, and related power people in the city.  After all, politics, like life, is all about mushy things like relationships and egos and saving face.  So even as you have to consider that a policy recommendation will be applauded by some people (who stand to gain from it) and booed by others (who stand to lose from it), you also have to consider how the power people will gain or lose from it.  Who gets the credit if it goes well?  Who gets the blame?  Who will be able to keep their people in line, and whose people will break ranks?  Who needs a win to get reelected?  Who can't stand to agree with someone else, and who will have to disagree with someone whose favor they're trying to curry? 

 

And on and on and on.  Politics is a tough business in this town.  You have to be smart about policy stuff (understanding the mechanics of things like property tax calculations and zoning issues and sewer and water infrastructure).  And you have to be savvy about how to play the game to get stuff done, stay in office, and please your constituencies.  It makes me appreciate even more the people who are able to stay in this business and maintain favorable reputations and get things done and stay positive.

Economy Version 3.5

(I know the content below may be well played out already, but bear with me and let me be the last person to make this point. Sometimes, when I write, it’s not to instruct others but simply to get my head around a concept. Some people formulate their thoughts by saying them out loud, others by sketching them out. Me, I like to post them on my blog.)

Economy Version 1.0 in this country was an agricultural economy. The dominant resource was land, which was obviously an exclusive asset, in that two people couldn’t have access to it from an ownership standpoint. It was also a immobile asset, in that you couldn’t move it around and instantaneously multiply it; it just was there.

Economy Version 2.0 in this country was an industrial economy. The dominant resource was capital, which was still an exclusive asset, in that two people couldn’t have access to it from an ownership standpoint. However, it was a less immobile asset, in that you could move it around and multiply it, although somewhat clunkily.

Economy Version 3.0 in this country was an information economy. The dominant resource was data, which was becoming a less exclusive asset, in that two people could simultaneously have access to it. It was also a far more mobile asset, in that you could move it around quite easily. Ease of movement also meant you could marshal a lot of it, which made up for the fact that you couldn’t technically multiply it.

Economy Version 3.5 in this country is a knowledge economy. The dominant resource is knowledge, which is not hardly an exclusive asset at all, in that multiple people can and do have simultaneous access to it. It also a multipliable asset, in that knowledge can and does beget more knowledge.

In 1.0, the rich owned the land and the poor worked it. Those were kind and progressive in thinking made sure to leave portions of land for the poor to work for themselves. In 2.0, the rich owned the capital and bought machinery that the poor worked. Those who were kind and progressive in thinking made sure to regulate industry such that the rich couldn’t abuse the poor in their dominance of management and finance. In 3.0 and 3.5, the rich-poor divide is defined by access to information and by knowledge. Given that data and brainpower is easier to move and multiply than land and capital, what will those who are kind and progressive in thinking do to make sure that data and brainpower is better distributed between rich and poor?

Different Political Cultures

One of the nice things about being a full-time student is being able to link concepts across classes. When I was juggling work full-time and school part-time, I have to admit that school was a bit of a blur. With the extra time I have now to digest the class materials, I can see concepts play out from different perspectives.

It is easy to make these linkages in two of my classes, since they’re taught by the same professor and there are a handful of us students who are in both classes; in fact, sometimes I lose track of which class I learned what thing in. The other day, though, I was able to make a link from one of these two classes to the third class I’m taking.

In the first class, Politics, we learned about the concept of political cultures, as articulated by Daniel Elazar. One culture, which he calls moralistic, views politics as a commonwealth, meant to be participated in by all the people and wishing to advocate for the common good. Another, which he calls individualistic, views politics as a business, meant to be left to professionals who make things happen transactionally. (He also speaks of a third type, traditionalistic, which is about preserving the status quo and letting the elites run the show.)

Moralistic cultures can be found in places like Oregon and Minnesota, while Philly individualistic as it gets, in terms of political cultures. And so as I contemplate concepts I’m learning in my third class, Privatization and Reinventing Government, I am making the connection that receptivity to government innovations like contracting out, e-government, and performance measurement depends on the political culture. In a moralistic culture, officials might be more juiced to get better for the sake of the constituencies they serve. I saw a lot of this in my leadership trip to Phoenix last June; wherever I turned, politicians were plotting and scheming to make government work better for the citizens.

Contrast this with Philly, where the individualistic culture rules, and politics may have little to do with getting better for the people and everything to do with getting and keeping power. Hopefully, as evidenced by recent indictments and referenda, corruption has bottomed out and we are trending toward cleaner governance. But the prevailing political culture remains, leaving me to wonder how much stomach local politicians have to make tough decisions and to innovate for the sake of making government better.

I don’t want to be too pessimistic or jaded about Philly’s future in this regard, but neither do I want to be naïve and starry-eyed. At the very least, I’m thankful not just for these two classes I’ve taken but for this linkage I’ve seen between the two.

Have We Lost Faith in Our Government

The federal government has taken a lot of flak in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, and rightly so.  Though responding to catastrophes is admittedly a complex problem involving a complexity of coordination and action, even discounting for the degree of difficulty the federal government failed.  And many in the American public let them have it.

But what hurts the most to me, someone who desires to make a difference in government, is not the loud objectors but the silent ones.  Though many have heaped their vitriol on government people from Bush on down, many others have said absolutely nothing.  It seems a large group of Americans has resigned themselves to the ineptitude and bureaucracy of government action.

In contrast, when we hear of private sector efficiency -- one remarkable example is Wal-Mart, which quickly shut down and then reopened affected stores, mobilized needed equipment to nearby areas, and even anticipated a spike in demand for strawberry Pop-Tarts -- we marvel at first, but then shrug our shoulders, as if to say, "Well, that's to be expected, in this day and age of information technology and ceaseless competition: get nimble, or get run over."

Have we so lost our faith in our government that a corporation motivated solely by financial profit is to be expected to have more motivation to get better and better each day than an entity that has been charged with protecting the homeland, caring for those whom the market will not care for, and safeguarding freedom?  What can we do within government circles to unleash the kind of productivity, efficiency, and innovation that we have come to expect from the private sector?  What will it take for the American people to believe in our government again, instead of shrugging our shoulders and expecting bumbling incompetence and mind-numbing bureacracy?

I'd like to know.

Dream in Four Scenes, Courtesy of Nyquil

I've been doped up on Nyquil the past two or three nights, in a vain attempt to shake a head cold that has plagued me for over a week now.  This medicine stuff, which I'm not used to taking, sure can leave me groggy in the morning.  And it has made my already weird dreams weirder.  This morning, my dream took place over four scenes, and I'm documenting it because maybe there's a business idea buried in here somewhere.

 

Scene 1 – my old bedroom in California

Bored out of my mind, I remember that I know an ugly guy who once interviewed Cincinnati Reds great Joe Morgan.  I decide to call him to see if he would be willing to come over and act like a guest on a talk show, and talk baseball cards with me and my friends.  He says yes, I send an email out to my friends, and four minutes after I come up with the original idea, my bedroom is full of people as I lob questions at the ugly guy and he answers them.  Then, like a good talk show host, I ask my friends to write down questions for the ugly guy, and I read them out to him.

 

Scene 2 – my old living room in California

After our impromptu talk show, I'm chatting with a couple of my friends about how fun that was, and how quickly and fluidly the gathering came together.  Excitedly, I begin to tell them how this might be a good business idea: make it easy for people to call forums, invite guests, and bat questions and issues back and forth.  The more I share, the more excited my friends get.  "We could sell this thing to Google!" 

 

Scene 3 – an outdoor deck somewhere in the Bay Area

A huge gathering of Google employees bops to music on a sunny day in California.  A few step to the microphone for some freestyle rhyming.  I gather that this is how new ideas are vetted – you have to be quick and clever enough to share them with the group through rapping.  Someone nudges me to the mic, and I deliver a couple of rhymes.  Apparently, they are witty enough that I am allowed to keep going.  I share my idea for forums, which is met with groans, as if this idea is just so passé.  Then, I kick in my business side and talk about the commercial potentials: selling ads targeted to the forum's topics, posting the transcript of forum discussions, businesses hosting forums as if they were focus groups.  A few people give me affirmative noises, and I am whisked inside for follow-up.

 

Scene 4 – an empty office at Google headquarters

Apparently, my idea has made the first cut.  I'm given a bag of Google paraphernalia and they sit me down in front of a computer.  They tell me I have an hour to write up a skeletal business plan for my idea, and that they'll vet that and call me if they're interested.  As I sit in front of a blank screen, I begin to realize I am dreaming, but before I wake up, I make mental note to write down this idea and think about whether or not to follow up on it in real life.

 

Upon waking up from my Nyquil-induced state, I thought about the idea for about five seconds and decided it pretty much already existed, although certainly the different players online could do better with what they make available to users.  So I don't think I'm going anywhere with this idea.  Still, it was kind of a fun dream.  Who knew I could come up with business ideas and rap them in my sleep?

First Semester Counts

I learned an interesting tidbit during my professor’s digression this morning. He was talking about how most colleges have complex equations that attempt to correlate various data points with future success. This helps them to pick candidates that will do well in their institutions and go on to do even greater things. I don’t think it’s as crude as plugging in an applicant’s info – GPA, # of AP courses, # of years of foreign language, family income, etc. – and spitting out a list of who to accept and who to not accept, but I also don’t think they don’t use this kind of quantitative stuff at all. If you’re an admissions office, you’d be stupid not to.

Anyway, the point my prof was making was that as complex as these equations can get, they are only reasonably useful in predicting success up to the first semester in college. Forget future success years out, or even a couple years out, or even for the four years of college itself. We’re talking three months.

You might think my takeaway from this tidbit was that such equations are useless. But you forget that I’m into this kind of stuff, being a bit of a stat geek. If I think past baseball stats can help predict future baseball success, then surely I can buy that past high school performance can help predict future college and life success.

What came to mind for me right away was not to discount colleges for trying to find a magic equation for their applicants. Rather, I thought of just how important those first three months of college are for your future success. My interpretation of my prof’s point was that everything leading up to your first semester in college can explain how you’ll do in your first semester in college. But your first semester in college can explain how you’ll do for the rest of your life. Will you develop good study habits or bad ones? Will you stay on the straight and narrow or go astray? Will you get involved, get inspired, get challenged? Or will you drift, purposeless and causeless, for the rest of your life?

Of course, it’s not to say that good decisions in your first three months in college guarantees you a good life, or that bad decisions in your first three months in college can’t be overcome. But the experiences you have in that very short time window can and do change your whole life. Christian fellowships that do significant outreach to freshmen should take heed. So should the colleges themselves in terms of how they organize orientation and student life. And of course, parents and pastors and coaches and every other adult that sends a kid off to school should keep an eye out. That first semester is not a throwaway; it counts.

Why I Wouldn’t Mind Paying Triple the Taxes

Lest you think I’ve become a liberal, let me explain why I wouldn’t mind paying triple the taxes. Here in Philadelphia, the way our properties get taxed may be about to change. In the old way, your tax was computed by multiplying the tax (or “millage”) rate by a fraction of your assessed value. So hypothetically, if your house was last assessed at $75,000 and the fraction they were using was 60% and the millage rate was 4%, your property tax would be 4% x 60% x $75,000, or $1800.

The Board of Revision of Taxes wants to do three things: eliminate fractional assessments, reassess property values more accurately and often, and adjust the millage rate accordingly. On the first, basically what they’re saying is that instead of the 60% we used in the above example, the fraction would always be 100% (before, fractions were different for different properties based on geography and type, and now everything would be the same). On the second, what will happen is that properties in hot neighborhoods will now be taxed based on their higher values, and properties in declining neighborhoods would be taxed based on their lower values. And on the third, adjusting the millage rate means setting it so that any changes in the first and second will not cause the amount of tax collected by the city to go up or down, but stay the same (not your bill, but the total take for the entire city).

So to go back to our original example, let’s say the house that was last assessed at $75,000 gets reassessed at $125,000, and that the millage rate was adjusted downward to 3%. Now your property tax bill will be 3% x 100% x $125,000, or $3750, or double what you paid the year before.

You can see why politicians in hot neighborhoods, and the people they represent, would be upset about these changes. Some houses that were bought for cheap and assessed for even less that are worth much more in the open market will now get socked with much higher property tax bills. Those that would be affected thusly are asking for a rejection of the changes, or at the very least a delay or a scaling-up process.

I am not one of the protesters. Although I am in general a fan of lower taxes, I also believe in the fairness of the progressivity of taxes, that is to say that the more you have the more you ought to be taxed. If you look at what is known as the effective tax rate, which can be calculated as the tax bill divided by the market value of your property, the lowest rates are in the richest neighborhoods and the highest in the poorest neighborhoods. In other words, the poor are paying a higher amount of their wealth in property taxes than the rich, the exact opposite of a progressive tax.

In fact, the Philadelphia Tax Reform Commission came to the exact same conclusions in lobbying for these changes that are on the brink of being enacted. The changes would essentially shift this part of the tax burden (of course the city collects other taxes, but property tax is by far the largest slice of the pie) from the poorer to the richer. I was sold then, and I am still sold now, even as a homeowner in a hot neighborhood where property values have shot up 100-300% in the past five years, and where property taxes stand to double or triple or more if these new policies are put into effect.

Don’t get me wrong: these changes would have some negative consequences. Some long-time residents in appreciating neighborhoods might be forced out by a huge jump in their property tax bill. I empathize with the politicians from these neighborhoods, none of whom want to be seen as supporting something that will reach deeper into the constituent’s pockets. And this redistribution of resources from rich to poor could hinder the city’s ability to retain the upper-class and middle-class families it has been bleeding for fifty-plus years.

Nevertheless, I think the changes are the right ones to make. I want to live in a city that taxes its citizens, both rich and poor, fairly. Improved accuracy in property tax assessment can streamline administration and minimize discrepancies. Capturing taxes through property ownership is superior in many ways to doing so through Philadelphia’s unpopular wage tax. So I support the changes. Even if they mean I’ll be paying triple the taxes.

Postscript: For more information, go to philadelphiaforward.com or brtweb.phila.gov. At Philadelphia Forward, there is a calculator that determines your new rate based on different permutations of changes: no change to tax rate, with and without buffering the changes so that there’s not a big jump from last year to this year, and (another Tax Reform Commission recommendation) if they decide to tax land more and buildings less (to discourage land speculation). Based on these calculations, my tax bill would be anywhere from 84% to 174% higher than last year.

God Delights in Surprises

One of my good friends recently had to keep a big secret from his wife. It killed him to have to lie to her face every time she asked, all the more because she would get more and more upset about not knowing. Sometimes he had to leave the room when they were talking, so afraid was he of spilling the beans. Every time he had to hide the truth, he said a little prayer -- God, forgive me.

The secret was a surprise baby shower for his pregnant wife. The day finally arrived, and she was indeed surprised, as well as overcome with joy. My friend was joyful, too, but more relieved. This wonderful thing he and others had been planning, that he had had to conceal for so long -- even though so many times he wanted to alleviate her sadness about not having a baby shower by telling that, yes, a huge one was in the works -- could finally be unveiled.

I wonder if God is like this sometimes. We are upset because something we want is slow in arriving, or we have lost hope altogether that we'll ever see it. All the while, He's cooking something up for us that will absolutely exceed our wildest imaginations. Like my friend, does it pain Him to see us agonize? Or, also like my friend, is He stifling a grin, knowing that the very thing we yearn for is what He's at that very moment preparing for us?

All I know is that I hope I am able to remember this parable when I am pining before God for something. That this perspective will help me to be patient with God's timing, trusting that He has my best in mind, open in my heart and mind for what wonderful things are even now being cooked up.

Ten Things You Should Do Every Day

This isn’t meant to be a checklist that you power through item by item, but rather something you should look back on at the end of a day to see if it was a day where you truly lived, and if there are lots of items missing, maybe you’re not really living.

1. Laugh out loud spontaneously because something tickles your fancy.

2. Cry out of sadness.

3. Shed a tear because of something you’re really joyful about.

4. Learn something new and take pleasure in it.

5. Take a break from worrying about what happened before and what will happen after and simply be present.

6. Quiet your soul before God and take in His presence in and around you.

7. Help someone freely, without attaching any strings.

8. Think about what you want your life to be about and whether today was consistent with that.

9. Feel honest remorse over some mistake you made, and do something to make it right.

10. Get better at something you’re not good at, or use some talent that you already have.

The Right Power

Power is a dirty word for many Christian people. To them, it evokes images of abuses of power: rigid authority, influence through violence, might makes right. Plus, doesn't the Bible tell us to turn the other cheek? To exercise power, then, is something that many Christians are leery of.

It is not correct to oppose such a viewpoint by simply wagging the finger and saying, "Don't be such a wallflower!" That sets up a certain standard -- not being a wimp -- and evaluating the truth against that standard, rather than vice versa. If we are truly called to be wimps, then wimps we should be, societal norms be damned.

But that's not what I'm saying. It is not the exercise of power that is evil, in my read of the Bible, but the abusive exercise of power. We are certainly to say no to sinful displays of influence -- intimidating others, practicing corruption, or relying on human wisdom or strength. But the Bible gives us many examples of godly exercise of power. Paul exhorts Timothy away from timidity and toward powerful exercises of the leadership skills he has been given to use. We can and should wield influence to fight for issues of justice, and many righteous people have. Whatever the cause -- slavery, civil rights, world hunger -- and whatever the instrument -- hunger strikes, petitions, advocacy -- power was exercised and it was a good thing.

So let's no throw out the baby with the bathwater. Let us as Christians say no to abusive exercises of power, and let us find righteous ways to wield influence for the sake of the Kingdom.

A Parent’s Response to Hebrews 12

I love how our relationship with God and our understanding of His word change over time as we enter new phases in life.  Not that He changes or that His truth changes, but our perspective of it does.  Hopefully, the change is a deepening, a maturing, a greater understanding and appreciation.  This is what I hope for Amy and me.

 

And so it is heartening to read a passage that is familiar to me, the first half of Hebrews 12, one that has been quite meaningful to me in previous phases in life, and to derive new understanding of its truths and new appreciation of my God.  Here is some of what I wrote in my journal in response:

 

"Even as we seek to train and not spoil Jada, so are You perfectly training and spoiling us.  So may we learn, as Jada is learning, that You can be trusted to have our best interests in mind.  And so may we respond, as Jada has, with a sense of happiness and peace that comes from being secure.  O LORD, You have been this good to us, far justifying gratitude and obedience and worship in response.  So may we respond, so may You be glorified.

Faith That Doesn’t Get to See

Imagine you're a general manager who assembles a wonderful group of young players who win a string of championships and go into the record books . . . only you died before any of the success began.  Or that you're a pastor of a fledgling church and you pray for a mighty revival and God answers . . . two generations after you've left the congregation.  Or that you start a business that stumbles along for several years, finally catching fire and going public . . . when your daughter takes over the reins.  Or that you pray daily for your grandchildren to become Christians, which they finally do . . . when they themselves are grandparents.

 

This is kind of like the plight of the heroes of faith in Hebrews 11.  God makes some bold promises to them, the fulfillment of which they don't get a chance to see with their own eyes.  Some get a foretaste, others nothing at all.  None get to see it themselves.

 

I'm challenged by faith that believes in spite of the likely prospect that the fullness of the things we're believing in won't get revealed until we're long in the dirt.  I'm challenged because I am part of the "instant gratification" generation.  Also because though I consider myself a big thinker and a future-oriented person, it is bigger than I can imagine to conceive of living a life that is so impactful and so influential that it births huge things several generations beyond my own lifetime. 

 

But this is the faith the heroes in Hebrews 11 exercised, the kind of faith God is inviting us to have, the kind of faith that God makes possible.  O that we'd exercise that kind of faith in this day and age, for the sake of our souls and for the sake of many generations to come who, unlike us, will get to see the grand fulfillment of promises long ago promised.

Better

I got to the famous "hall of faith" in Hebrews 11 in my morning devotions today.  As the author recounts the stories of such luminaries as Noah, Abraham, and Moses, I am struck by the great decisions of faith they each made to trust God in the face of overwhelming reasons to doubt Him.  The lunacy of building a boat in the middle of a desert.  The lunacy of an elderly and childless man being told his descendents would be uncountable.  The lunacy of a prince giving up the good life for one of suffering and misunderstanding.

 

It gets harder to exercise this kind of radical faith the older you become and the more domestic responsibilities you take on.  Idealism is easier in one's youthfulness, single-mindedness harder when you have a wife and baby and mortgage and career to look out for.  I am deeply challenged by the chapter I read this morning.

 

What helps me is to remember that, at least in the mind of the author, none of these great people of faith considered their great acts of faith any sort of sacrifice.  In our minds, it is a sacrifice to build a boat or wait for a child or give up royalty, just as it is to take a lower-paying job or live in a slummier neighborhood or forgo a higher standard of living. 

 

But in the mind of the author of Hebrews, and in the heart of our God, such a faith lifestyle is no sacrifice.  Each of these people described above, and all the others listed in this chapter, did their faith thing not out of an obligation to sacrifice something better for something worse but out of  a desire to forgo something inferior for something superior.  The word "better" is an oft-repeated one in this book, and it reminds me that to pursue faith radically – to pursue God radically – is the better way.  It affords the better security, the greater riches, and the ultimate end prize. 

 

The promise of the good life in this world is that it is better.  But from reading Hebrews 11, I know better.