Another excerpt from an ancient journal. I like this one too.
Read the writing on the wall. If I had listened to [****]??s accidental words instead of her chosen ones, then I would have been ready for the storm.
The following is a short essay I wrote about “High Moral Character” for a scholarship application back in March. Even though I didn’t get the scholarship, I really like this essay.
In case you’ve seen it before, sorry for the repeat. You are one of the very few who noticed it. I hope that it will be more accessible over here with the posts.
How would you consider yourself of high moral character?
Speaking of oneself as a person of “high moral character” should be enough to disqualify that person from the designation. In the words of Chuck Swindoll, “pride is the only disease known to humans that makes everyone sick except the one who has it.” Nonetheless, I believe high moral character can be defined and sought after. Generally, a person of high moral character is someone who responds honestly and tenderly to the issues (both micro and macro) in his community and world.
Contrary to our highest secular hopes, our world is caught in a war on terror perpetuated by religious zealotry. To dey the significance of that war’s roots would be foolish and dangerous. Rather, a person of high moral character knows that it is a nation’s idea of God which defines its actions; i.e., “[t]he history of mankind will probably show that no people has ever risen above its religion, and man??s spiritual history will positively demonstrate that no religion has ever been greater than its idea of God.” A. W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy 1 (1961).
Therefore, it is the role of a person of high moral character to seek peace through the elevation of the world’s concept of God by serving the poor and outcast. History’s great religious teachers agree. The Koran says, “righteousness is this: that one should? give away wealth out of love? to orphans and the needy? and for the emancipation of the captives.” 2.177. Judeo Christian scripture says, “bring the homeless poor into the house, when you see the naked, cover him, then your light will break out like the dawn and your recovery will speedily spring forth, then your Lord will be your rear guard.” Isaiah 58. Jesus told his followers to be like a Good Samaritan who shows mercy toward everyone, even his enemy, who is in need. Luke 10:37.
As a follower of Jesus, I believe that any nation or person who shows mercy toward the marginalized is a person of high moral character.
My efforts to live up to this standard are insufficient but are, nonetheless, earnest. I try and live a simple life of charity by giving time and money to noble causes. I personally supported many friends and missionaries in Southeast Asia during their tsunami relief efforts. After Hurricane Katrina, I volunteered at the Astrodome as the New Orleans evacuees arrived. Currently, I financially support the fight against A.I.D.S. in Africa, poverty in the dumps of Nicaragua, and illiteracy worldwide. To the homeless in Houston, I frequently reach out a helping hand by supporting homeless shelters, distribution centers, and service organizations.
Our communities and world can live as one. But to do so we must see God as a God of peace and charity. Though our battles in Afghanistan & Iraq seem to serve a short term purpose, I believe that the war on terror will not be won by warfare. Rather, peace and stability must be found in acts of kindness.
Finally, we must do more than simply talk about such acts of kindness. When discussing the Good Samaritan, Jesus asked his audience which person lived up the Jewish ideal to “love your neighbor as yourself”. His listeners were forced to reply that it had been their enemy, the Samaritan, who showed mercy toward the man who fell into the robbers’ hands. Jesus replied, “go and do the same.” Id. at 10:27-37.
It seems like the first day of a vacation should be marked by anticipation. As a child, vacations were a fantastic joy.
I was seven or eight years old the first time I went to California, my family took a vacation to Disneyland that summer. Something about this seemed overwhelming & wonderful to me. Maybe it was the years of hype which a child is exposed to or the satisfaction of having been somewhere which others had spoken so highly. Whatever it was that excited me, it worked.
I could hardly sleep the night before the trip. In retrospect, this is really odd since we were going to travel (standby) all day long the next day to California. But I could not see the path for the destination, so sleep was a bit scare.
When dad came to wake me up the next morning, he snuck into the room & leaned over to get my attention. Little did he know that I had dreamt about the Disneyland all night long, and in my hurry to get to the Magic Kingdom I sprung up from flat on my back, simultaneously head-butting him in the nose. Dad was understandably caught of guard, “Shannon, what are you doing?!”
“Are we going to Disneyland?”
“Yes, but why’d you jump out of bed like that?”
“Sorry? When do get to Disneyland?”
That day went on & on. We were bumped from flights & bounced from Lubbock to Albuquerque to Phoenix to the moon to LA. The planes were hot & crowded; when the flight attendant called our family’s name to be bumped one last time my heart was broken. We had to collect our things & leave the plane while everyone watched us.
“I’m never going to get to Disneyland.”
When we finally arrived in California it was too late to do anything productive (like go hang out with Goofy). I’m pretty sure we went to a neat restaurant, but not even that could distract me; I still had only one place on my mind.
The next morning we got up & walked to the front gate. Since we had a hotel across the street from the park we did not have to bother with parking. Instead we walked what seemed like an hour just to get to the ticket booth.
I remember that the main entrance has an obstructed view into the park. From the gate, all one could see was an embankment of bright flowers. I had no particular interest in flowers at the time, except even now I can remember looking at them. There was something about the California sun and those bright colors which made me feel loose & free. Like I was about to go into a place full of life.
Now here’s the most important part. Standing there, at the gate & behind the embankment, the finest moment of the trip was about to pass. Anticipation was about to expire. Whether the park lived up to the hype or not would no longer matter because my eyes would be opened to the reality of the place.
By the time we become adults we realize that Disneyland is nothing more than a well marketed amusement park with mediocre rides & over priced soft drinks. But a child still knows how to expect, to long for something. A child has not been broken of the belief that just around the embankment there lies a joy worth waiting for.
As the years have gone by I have hedged my expectations a bit. For example, when I go to Colorado Springs I know that there will be cool clean air & Pikes Peak, but I do not expect that my life will be changed by them.
Somehow — despite our expectations — these places do manage to change us. The difference, however, between the child and the adult is that of expectations not personal transformation. The child expects something unreasonable (lifelong happiness from an amusement park), and the adult is unwilling to expect anything for fear of disappointment.
In this way, adulthood seems to be more like a skill than a stage in life. Where the best “adults” are able to hide their emotions so as to not appear disappointed at any time. A well trained adult avoids the exposure of their thoughts to prevent the publicity of their naiveté.
Life in Houston has been rewarding of late. I work hard & play hard at school & church. I have friends & family that love me. My first house looks to be appreciating. Nonetheless, life is more that food, drink & shelter. It is more than academic progress & respect of peers.
When I moved to Houston in 1994 I had a Texas-sized chip on my shoulder. This boy from Lubbock was going to overcome my small-town past & conquer the big city. I left the wide open sky of West Texas for the pine trees & billboards of America’s third coast.
I guess that chip hasn’t ever come off my shoulder. Actually, I think I’ve become accustomed to having it around. The only thing is that somewhere along the line I became a third coast kid. I aggressively eliminated my small town accent & decided that a skyline was well served by a few skyscrapers.
Garrison Keller says that people from small towns work harder to pronounce French words correctly. Well, I do not know about French, but I took great joy that even the people in London could not tell what part of the U.S. I was from.
Tonight on my way to Waco I managed to come upon the crest of a hill at sunset. There were no clouds in the sky, no wild colors, no particular trick of lighting, but I was deeply moved at this new vista. I could see the full horizon at dusk and it made my heart sing.
Remember this, dusk is a sacred time for anyone from West Texas.
Ironically the very thing which draws criticism to the Great Plains, viz. flatness, is much loved by her residents. Flat open spaces make for a big sky. At dusk in West Texas you know your smallness. Looking around, the great dome presses down and nothing blocks your eyes from seeing into infinity.
Tonight, at the top of my hill, I could see the full horizon in every direction. Something about this very nearly brought me to tears. I was a child again, the sky was open.
This week I set out for the Rocky Mountains. Day one has taken me to Waco to see Jon & Christi Osborne at their new home. They have greeted me with joy and open arms and I suppose that if the whole trip were only to see that sunset & these friends it would have been worth it. But the path is much longer than that.
Day one is about remembering that life is not best lived inside the boundaries of safe expectations. In my case it would be safe to expect cultural richness in Santa Fe & world class snowboarding in Vail, but even these will fail me if I expect too much of them.
Rich Mullins said that if we look to our friendships for meaning and fulfillment we will ultimately destroy them. No human relationship can contain the breadth of life in even one human heart. Neither can a voyage.
But in Christ we come up against something which is entirely “other” from those things which disappoint. He is at one in the same time the answer to our questions and the questions themselves. In him we are free not to hedge our expectations.
Christ invites us to yearn deeper, to beg for more. He does not criticize us for expecting too much but, rather, too little. Or, that we’ve wanted things which will not satisfy.
When we open up our stories to His we experience life & that to the full. Not just “fire insurance” from Hell for ourselves or more balanced social justice for others, but a better life in the spirit of all the redeemed today.
So I’m called to open my story and trust that the well is deep enough for my greatest expectations. Christ will satisfy where others have failed.
Garfield has found a way to confess a mistake and mock his accuser at the same time. I love it.
The moral seems to be “You fool, I’m a cat! Don’t you know we cats cannot help but claw at things.”
In the same way as we spiritually mature we need to have a sense of humor/grace toward our own imperfections. A turning point in grace comes when we realize that the accuser isn’t interested in our sanctification but destruction.
God isn??t surprised when we ??claw the couch?, nor does he still feel thorns every time we mess up. Such manufactured imagery only creates guilt. To be sure He does not want us to sin, but grace is grace precisely because it frees us from guilt.
Remember, ??It was for freedom that Christ set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery.? (Galatians 5:1)
When we make a mistake, it is at that moment when God??s mercy & compassion are most readily available. Do not allow the accuser to defeat you and again subjugate you to a yoke of guilt.
Garfield??s prideful confession is not the model for Christian confession, but I infer an understanding of his carnal impulses. ??I??m a cat!? In the same way, you are a new creation with an old nature to overcome. ??I??m a new man in an old body?.
Bottom line: Live like a new creation and don??t get worked over by guilt when you mess up. Confess. Move on. Smile.
Grace is sufficient.