Judge, But Don’t

Every skeptic has the same favorite Bible verse. “Judge not, lest you be judged also. (Mat 7:1)” It’s weaponized and wielded as a means to shut down dissenting opinions of believers when they are, apparently, being too harsh. Is there legitimacy to it?

Sort of. 

Before we decipher, it’s important to first see what Jesus is not saying. Later in the same chapter Jesus tells His listeners that they will know someone “by their fruits.” In other words, one can judge someone’s content by the product of their behavior, similar to how one would determine a tree by its fruit. So He is not saying, categorically, to not judge.

What this seems to mean is that there is legitimacy in judging a person’s actions. Where one gets into trouble is when he judges an individual or that person’s intents. I have full license to judge what a person does, but I ought to exercise restraint in judging them or their motives.

I’ve personally discovered another element that complicates matters, and this complication helps to reveal why judging others turns into self-judgement. Really there are two elements that tie together. 

The first is that human beings have a tendency to project. We spend a lot of time with ourselves and become accustomed with our flaws and insecurities- whether we realize it or not. This develops into an acute awareness (or imaginary projection) of character flaws or intentions in others that we actually (perhaps unknowingly) observe in ourselves. Also, we may make assumptions about others that are informed by insecurities wrought in us through prior experiences. In both cases, we are projecting onto someone else a version of themselves that has been created in or informed by our own subconscious.

Secondly, God conveys throughout Scripture the notion of cosmic fairness. If we do not forgive others, He says that He will not forgive us. By what standards we judge others, we will be judged also. Our judgement is obscured. Only God is licensed and able to fairly judge a person or their intentions.

Do not judge, because when you condemn others you are actually condemning yourself (via both psychological projection and the cosmic fairness principal) and also because you are not omniscient or innocent. Only God is both fully morally upright and omniscient. Only He is qualified to judge.

But you have every right to judge a person’s actions, and when someone is made uncomfortable by that, they don’t prove that you are judgemental. They only prove that they condemn themselves with their own actions. Whenever one scornfully wields Scripture as a weapon, they wield it against themselves.

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Fixing Shoulder Pain

Thousands of people annually receive surgical treatment to correct mobility issues and pain in their shoulders. Among the most common is rotator cuff surgery. Typically these invasive surgeries involve trimming away bone and other tissue to make room in the shoulder socket. When successful, these surgeries prevent further frictional irritation within the shoulder. But what if many of those surgeries were unnecessary?

Human beings share a lot of anatomic similarities to great apes. We are designed to brachiate. Brachiation (per Wikipedia) is “is a form of arboreal locomotion in which primates swing from tree limb to tree limb using only their arms.” Because we share a lot of muscular and skeletal similarities to primates, shoulder health demands that we brachiate. However, the typical western lifestyle does not incorporate this type of physical action.

Board certified orthopedic surgeon, John M Kirsch, MD in his book Shoulder Pain? The Solution and Prevention describes his journey from debilitating shoulder pain to fully mobile shoulder strength. And he got there without any surgery.

He describes in his book how a structure in the shoulder- the coracoacromial (CA) arch- has a tendency to gradually relax as we age. This can lead to devastating consequences since the CA arch can begin to interfere with the rotator cuff tendon, leading to tears and inflammation. He describes how brachiating, alongside other basic shoulder exercises, can actually train the CA arch over time- reversing its collapse into the shoulder’s internal structures.

The brachiating exercises involve hanging with palms facing on a bar that is high enough to allow the body to hang freely. All of the work in this exercise is fulfilled by grip strength. While some people will use special gloves to assist with hanging, the average person will need to practice hanging until grip strength becomes strong enough to maintain a hang for 30-60 seconds.

In between hangs, the shoulder is further strengthened by performing side, forward, and rear lateral movements (palms facing down) with light dumbbells at a high volume of repetitions. These exercises should be performed three to six days per week with each session typically lasting 20-30 minutes.

Over time, the hanging exercises will help to raise the AC arch. The assistance exercises will help to strengthen the surrounding musculature. The book features multiple testimonials of folks from varying walks of life who have found total (surgery-free) shoulder recovery. See if Dr. Kirsch’s method works for you!

For further information, his book is available on Amazon.

Pain and Reward

Everything would be easier with a magic wand, or at least a genie. Then again, magic is too complicated. Even if one could remove all the darkness from black magic it’d still be undesirable. It’s too much discipline. Sure there are perks to utilizing spells to mimic your reality, but there are always stipulations and consequences. A genie is easier- ask and you receive. There are stipulations, but there’s nothing in the way of discipline. Discipline is painful. All gain and no pain- it’d literally be magical.

Imagine uploading foreign language or martial arts abilities into your brain, like Neo in the Matrix. Imagine suddenly gaining the ability to shred on the guitar or write a symphony. I once read about a guy who got struck by lightening and suddenly became a musical savant. Even he had to work at it- it just came more easily to him. Imagine that you could suddenly transform your messy house into a clean one, your broken car into a fixed one, your diseased body into a healthy one. Imagine that you could sculpt your muscles and get stronger just by thinking about it. It’d be nice, wouldn’t it?

Most of us are lazy, and we only remain productive because of random bursts of inspiration or motivation. Everything comes and goes in fits and starts. Somehow we manage to be productive. But sometimes it feels like you’re driving uphill with a busted radiator. The car overheats every fifteen minutes, and you have to stop to douse the engine. It’s impossible not to think wishfully sometimes.

But it’s all wrong. The real excitement or joy of an accomplishment or reward is that it was gained through discipline. Discipline is really painful at times. Harrowing life experiences that force you to bail out or become brave are painful. Goals drive us, but processes shape us. Sometimes our goal is to learn a skill or become healthier or more fit. Sometimes our goal is just to make it out in one piece. Whatever the goal may be, the discipline required to remain focused and active toward that goal has a transcendent sort of quality.

So next time you are dreading the hard work you must put in or you are ruing  the emotional distress you’re about to endure, take heart and remember that the process both shapes you and makes your reward truly rewarding. Don’t let laziness make all the hard work seem like a drag. Remember that life is process, and desires [for goals] are put inside us to drive us. Without that, our existence would be pretty unfulfilling and depressing. Be thankful for the pain, because a magic wand would just make it all more difficult.

Meekness and Free Speech

It’s 12:30 am, and I work tomorrow. But I had to make note of something before I got to bed. Trump won the New Hampshire primary tonight. It was a landslide. I went out to Tuesday night trivia that my friend hosts as I do every Tuesday. I decide to wear my Donald Trump “Make America Great Again” hat. It seemed like a good night to celebrate the win.

I always get occasional weird looks from people. I am well aware of the feelings liberals have associated with Donald Trump. But I am also so well-versed in the guy’s ethos, that I take none of it seriously. And I see no need to censor myself in order to cater to the willful ignorance of others. I understand that wearing the hat might court assumptions that I am a racist, homophobic, xenophobic, chauvinistic, and Islamophobic bigot. The problem with all of those terms is that they mean  very different things to different people. They are unhelpful for thoughtful dialogue, but they are exceedingly helpful in an effort to censor other people.

A tall young man, maybe twenty-five, starts mean-mugging me within inches of my face. I stare back and lock gaze with him. I assume he’s joking. I talk about how Trump won the primary. I ask him if he’s excited. He pouts like a small child. I think he may have been trying to intimidate me. It certainly wasn’t working. Then cue the name-calling. I assume he’s joking. I laugh and pat him on the back. “Don’t fuckin touch me,” he demands. The tensions escalate. My blood pressure begins to rise. My girlfriend chimes in and tells him to chill out. He says, “fuck you,” to a woman half his size.

Meanwhile his short friend chimes in. He calls me all of the buzzwords. He says I am ignorant, racist, homophobic, Islamohophic, etc. He tells me to get rid of my hat. He talks about how he’s a PhD student, hoping to prove how enlightened he is. He goes on. Meanwhile, as my girlfriend cries after the other guy yelled at her I motion for the bartender. I tell her these guys got to go. She comes around and starts talking the taller guy down. The little guy talks about his need for a safe space. I am not even joking.

The bartender, a friend of mine, takes the taller guy over to the other side of the bar to talk him down. I call out the little guy for a little bit. I say nobody cares about his PhD. I say if he wants a safe space he can get the fuck out of there. I tell him I’m not any of those things, and he makes assumptions about a hat that says four words- MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN. I tell him he is so enlightened that he tries to censor me. I say this is not way to have a conversation. He starts to calm down and becomes apologetic. He extends an invitation to discuss. I tell him I forgive him, but that this is no time to engage in a discourse. I probably cussed him out more than I should.

This is the second time this week I have somewhat narrowly avoided a physical altercation. The other day I was dealing with a horrific troll at the gym. Fortunately I am pretty good at keeping my cool, but I don’t take well to people trying to censor me. As my nerves calmed down and I headed home I started to reflect.

As an evangelical, how well had I handled this situation? I was glad that I had stood my ground, but certainly I could have been more loving even in the midst of confrontation. I did forgive him. That was the righteous thing to do once the little guy apologized. But I didn’t need to curse at him. I was livid. I am still livid. The way people like this try to censor free speech is incredible. Because they have feelings about a hat, I am supposed to surrender my rights to what I wear or publicly express, even if it is not actively harming anyone? Not only this, their approach to express their indignation is to begin a vicious altercation.

I began to think, “Should I not wear this hat?” Not because of the altercation, but because of what it communicates to these people. The Apostle Paul says he is a Greek to the Greek and a Roman to the Romans. Am I losing evangelistic opportunities because I wear this hat? I don’t think that I am, but it seems a worthy thought. What are my intentions? Am I trying to boast my own courage? I go into an extremely liberal hub and wear a hat that I know will turn heads. It isn’t my primary focus. I like the hat, and I am a big supporter of Trump. I am excited about the election. I have every right to wear it. I have every right to stand my ground in a situation such as this.

I think I do the right thing to wear it. Where the opportunity comes to show the love of Christ is going to be the way in which I respond in the altercations. I didn’t make a total hash of it, but I could have surrendered my ego some more. I could have held my tongue some as I rebutted. With the one guy, things ended on an okay note.

My concern for modern Christianity is that they might see a scenario like this and assume that it might be best to avoid wearing such a hat to prevent the risk of offending others. When I was a teenager I had a t-shirt I got from a thrift store. It was an old black shirt that said “Old Fart.” I thought it was ironic and funny, so I wore it. My grandparents would laugh whenever they saw it. One evening I wore it to youth group, not thinking anything of it. An old lady at the church, notorious for being a stickler, approached my father about my t-shirt. She told me she was offended. My dad made me approach her to apologize that she had been offended by my shirt.

I never agreed with my dad about that. I still don’t . For all I know, he doesn’t anymore either. But at that time, he thought it was right for me to make peace in a situation where someone was offended. I respect his intent in the situation. I really do. But it always rubbed me the wrong way. I always thought the woman was being incredibly self-centered to be offended by the shirt. It wasn’t a statement to her or elderly people like she seemed to assume. It was a silly shirt from the store. I was too young to be deemed an old fart by anyone. So it was funny. This is why my grandparents found the same humor in it. Maybe it wasn’t an appropriate shirt to wear to church, but that wasn’t really the point. The point was that she was offended for reasons of her own insecurities and assumptions about me, and I had to censor myself and even apologize to her when I had done nothing wrong.

The Apostle also talks about not eating meat around other believers who don’t eat meat as the result of a weak conscience. For them, eating meat was akin to stumbling into sin. For Paul to eat meat around them affected their own attempts at righteousness as they desired to serve God. His point is that his eating of meat is worth nothing compared to the development of other believers. This I get. Christians should have a preoccupation with two things- evangelism and discipleship. This tells me that I should only be altering my behaviors if my behaviors are going to cause another person to falter in their walk with Christ.

In other words, there is a time and circumstance where it is righteous to censor our behaviors. But we ought not censor ourself just because another person is being offended. This would inevitably lead to sin. Jesus says himself that he came not to bring peace but a sword. Paul says in Romans that he is not ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. In fact, to this day, Christians suffer violent loss and death because they refuse to be censored. They refuse to put their light under a bushel.

Certainly this extends further into other areas of our experience. Surely we have to draw a line somewhere. Censorship is a method of Satan. He seeks to censor all truth. It is one thing to alter behaviors for sake of righteousness. It is another to alter them for sake of serving another’s vainglory. My hat may offend others. And when it does, I have a duty to show love and kindness when they poise for attack. But I also have to defend myself and prepare to do whatever necessary to defend myself or deescalate the situation. But fighting against the tyranny of censorship begins with things like this.

Christians are not called to cater to the feelings of the world, whether our matters pertain to religion or not. Our call is to evangelize and disciple the world under the banner of a message that is extremely offensive to many people. It is important that we stand our ground in small ways and that we assert ourselves. But with God’s help, we must never lose focus of the call to love our enemies and to seek every opportunity possible to win souls for Christ.

The Future of Conservatism

“If you are a little different, or a little outrageous,
or if you do things that are bold or controversial,
the press is going to write about you.”
                              Donald Trump, Art of the Deal, page 56

 

Donald Trump is the future of the conservative movement. National Review, with the choir  of conservative voices, has vehemently proposed otherwise. The conservative outlet will no doubt enjoy a significant boost in their online traffic. The Trump brand is effective at courting controversy. But if they stay the course of this war that they have waged, they do so to their own injury. Donald Trump is the juggernaut of the Republican primaries- of this entire presidential election. He is a stalwart. Donald Trump will not be stumped.

In their appeal they seek to portray him as an insincere, liberal demagogue.  They accuse him of leaning liberally in the past. They say he lacks the expertise and experience that career politicians have. They say he is a danger to conservatism and the Republican Party.

Really? What precious gem of Republican conservatism is Donald Trump sullying? And if he is sullying it, than who in the running is preserving this unicorn?

They make some thoughtful points if you take Trump’s approach at face value. Trump’s point is that politicians are “experts” with plans who must bow to special interests and in turn get nothing done. His views and approach to a lot of these things will materialize when he needs to directly address them. He’s a pragmatist.

What I’m not understanding is what conservatism NR is defending. The GOPe is tired and stale. What good are their values if they’re mostly ineffective at best or moulded by corporate interests at worst?

Trump may not be the type of conservative they want, but he’s what the people want. His strong man ethos can help revive the exceptionalist American spirit. And I think most people would prefer a guy who may not feign to know everything, but has a strong record of getting things done (often way under budget and behind schedule), is not controlled by donors, and speaks his mind. This is preferable to weak politicians who pretend to know everything, are controlled by donors, get nothing done (or worse, fall back on their word), and don’t speak a word without a pollster.

Everybody, Stereotype

Image you are driving in your car in an unfamiliar city. Your phone is dead, you are running on empty, and it is pouring rain. You grit your teeth just hoping your car will make it to a gas station or, in the very least, a safe stopping point. You drive deeper into neighborhoods with boarded up buildings, storefront churches, cash advance outfits, and the like. You are lost, and the only thing dissipating more than your surroundings is your gas tank. Your car is hacking along on fumes, and suddenly, as the watery squall gushes at you, your car begins to hydroplane.

You lose control, slide into a curb, and you blow out your front passenger tire. You are stranded. You drape your jacket over your head and step out of the car. The street is  becoming a lazy river. Your shoes and socks are soaked through immediately. You lock your doors and hurry onto the sidewalk and begin scanning in every direction- looking for bright lights and signs of commercial life. You spot a brightly lit banner about a quarter mile up the road. The rain starts to subside. As you walk toward the fluorescent lights, the once pouring rain is now a trickle.

Things seems to be advancing in your favor. You begin to relax. Your surroundings are unfamiliar and feel rather unsafe, but you tell yourself that your night cannot get any worse. “Surely the weather has kept everyone in for the night,” you say to yourself. Despite your comparatively zen state, you are still on red alert. You finally make it to the bright lights up the road. There is a sign on the door. Haphazardly written in Sharpie it says, “Kenny’s Chit’lins -N- Fish closed- power outage.” You hang your head and let out a sigh. Then the worst happens. A car pulls up to the side of the street, just a few feet behind you.

The muffler is loud. There are men raising their voices. Your stomach sinks. You are outnumbered. You resign to the fact that your night is about to get a whole lot worse. Maybe this is the last night of your life. After all of your years on this earth- your overcoming of adversities; your celebrations of your life’s greatest joys and victories, this is not how you imagined it would end. Sopping wet, staring through the window of Kenny’s Chit’lins -N- Fish. “What even is a chitterling?” you ask yourself. “I guess it’s too late to find out now.” The car door closes. Four-five-six men step out of the car. At least it looks that way from the shoddy reflection. You are too afraid to face them. They seem to be walking toward you. You slowly turn around. One man reaches into the pocket of his large coat. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket and brandishes a pocket-sized New Testament.

Now stop. How much relief do you feel in that moment after realizing that these men are on their way to a Bible study?

Do you see what you did there? You just profiled this group of men. You automatically assumed that just because these ostensible goons were on their way to a Bible study that they must be safe. How dare you!

This is the logic of some people in reverse. They might say something like, “See? You shouldn’t stereotype others. Those men turned out to be nice, church-going boys.” What they would fail to see is that they have just traded a negative stereotype for a positive one. Apparently one is allowed while the other is not. To such a person I would explain that they do not have a problem with stereotypes, they only have a problem with stereotypes when they pertain to a group of people they believe are socially oppressed.

It is, in fact, impossible not to stereotype.  When you are walking through the woods, you might recoil at the sight of a vine because your brain has not immediately figured out that it is not a venomous snake. Some paths in the brain are longer than others, and your brain has a tendency to quickly generalize an experience before it has time to analyze it. Stereotyping is the brain’s way of not taking a gamble when the stakes of survival are high.

Go back to the illustration from before. Before you had time to analyze the situation, you had to make value judgements to prepare for your own survival. Upon learning that the men were apparently harmless, you had to incorporate separate generalizations in order to get a picture of what these men might be like based on your general experience with the types of people that attend Bible studies. They may not always be stellar acquaintances, but your experience at least tells you they are unlikely to rob, injure, or murder you. Your knowledge or personal encounter with inner-city crime statistics or criminal encounters tells you the risk of danger is at least more likely.

When your survival is at stake, there is no time to worry about false assumptions. Once you are able to safely gather more information regarding your encounter you are able to determine the probable safety of the situation and make the decision to either salute, flee, or prepare for battle. If and when you are enabled to calculate that you are safe, then you may begin to lay down your arms of generalization.

Stereotypes should never be forsaken. They should only be refined through furthering keen observation and learning. They should be seen as tools for survival, anecdotes of information, and sources of good humor. When need be, they can be surrendered on an individual basis. For by their nature they are generalizations, and generalizations hold different value in the context of genuine relationships. Everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, but only the foolish will on principle forsake their doubts to seem cordial or accepting. After all, social niceties only exist in those not absolved by danger.

 

Fresh Eyes

I manage a kitchen at a homeless shelter that sits on a one-way street in an industrial park. The road is often blocked with delivery trucks, construction rigs, fire engines, or commonly as I saw tonight- an EMT squad. I got into my car to leave, turned around at the sight of the blockage, and headed in the opposite direction to the main road. Due to light traffic, it easy to take for granted that these one-way streets are public. People frequently drive down them in the wrong direction. It is common to do so before becoming familiarized with the layout of the property. Tonight, I had no choice but to exit against the current.

I recalled the first time I ever set foot in the shelter. I went in for an interview, and then I returned to help serve dinner a few nights later. The shelter is newly built and generally well maintained, but the clientele turn general maintenance into an uphill endeavor. I remember the freshly painted but sickly color scheme that all of the walls wore like vomit. I remember the smell of human feces and cheap cigarettes. The smell of chemicals to mask it all. I remember the vastness of the building. Every corridor went into an endless and unknown expanse. Every door was locked, and what hid behind each one was a mystery. After a single night of volunteering I was eventually offered position which I then accepted on a whim.

Day after day I returned to the shelter. A year later the color scheme still looks queazy, but I am able to see through it now. On any given day, I might be greeted with aromas of soiled jeans and  sweats. Second hand smoke of the lowest grade cigarettes still lingers through several panes of glass. I recoil, but only briefly. I breath through my mouth until I can make it into one of the locked rooms where the scents cannot linger. I know every room and corridor in the building now. Despite its magnitude, there is little mystery in it anymore. It has all become so familiar.

I have experienced this sensation everywhere I have ever been employed. Familiarity shrinks the expanse that newness gives. Fresh eyes become stale. It is not that there is no mystery left. It is that I have stopped wondering. Is this not the natural response to anyone’s experience of any person, place, or thing- to develop this sense that one’s relationship with anything can somehow be exhausted? I may become bored of anything or anyplace or anyone, but it is not familiarity that causes boredom. It is a lack thereof.

Repetition brings about sensations of familiarity. In the absence of wonder, boredom sets in and makes one disengaged from the reality before them. When sensations die, when awe and curiosity cease, the experience of our subject becomes passive. We stop experiencing things for what they are, because what they are is always deeper than the surface. Boredom passively takes for granted those intricacies buried beneath. Newness always brings with it sensations of wonder that fuel interest and curiosity. As those sensations fade, it is only humility and discipline of the mind that allow us to discover new things. Familiarity transcends into intimacy. That which was familiar and stale is suddenly infused with newness. And so it is with everything.