dev 192 - Selfless Love

“Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.”

John 15:13

Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, uttered these words in description of the command that was given. The command to his followers was simple enough; love one another, as I have loved you. In this Jesus was repeating a command that he had already taught, probably numerous times, and he now uses the platform of his last night to bring this command even more into the spotlight. Jesus wanted to make this clear: if you want to follow him, you must love is a sacrificial way- in a way where the good of the beloved is esteemed higher than personal good.

I understand what Jesus is teaching with my brain. Furthermore, my intellect concludes that the logic behind love is flawless. Love is the most important philosophy to build one’s life around. The only way to overcome the corruption of selfishness and the scourge of our pride is to get to the point where we consider others as more important than ourselves. I have observed the contentment in those people who I consider to be champions of loving others, who seem to never care about their own interests if they can be laid aside to help someone.

There have been moments where I too have experienced this. The most blissful times in my life have been when I have totally abandoned my wants and needs and found joy in bringing the wants and needs of others to pass. Yet, even with this being the case, I find the command to love an extremely difficult one to obey.

It is on this battlefield that I find my old sinful nature still rising to combat my life in Christ. It is essentially here where the war for sanctification is fought. Your sin ought to be laid aside, not for the sake of your pride or for any desire that you seek for yourself, but rather out of love for God and for people. And your love, according to Jesus, should be carried out even to the laying down of your life. This is the ideal. This is why you are created

God has established this world on this law. Things work right when love is the center of our philosophy and our actions. When love is absent, chaos ensues. Do not be surprised if your heart hardens and shrivels if you live your life only for yourself. You were not made to live that way. Your heart was not built to operate correctly in such a drought. Your heart was made to be given away.

George MacDonald said, ““It is by loving, and not by being loved, that one can come nearest the soul of another; yea, that, where two love, it is the loving of each other, that originates and perfects and assures their blessedness. I knew that love gives to him that loveth, power over any soul be loved, even if that soul know him not, bringing him inwardly close to that spirit; a power that cannot be but for good; for in proportion as selfishness intrudes, the love ceases, and the power which springs there from dies. Yet all love will, one day, meet with its return.”

It is a great joy, as we grow in Christ when we realize that our love will not go unreturned. Yet the greater joy, for us, is in the loving of God, for it is here where we become like God and participate in a glorious relationship with Him.

Is Europe Post-Christian?

I understand the use of the word “post-Christian.” It is a term that is used to refer to cultures which, although were once Christian, no longer bare the fruit that comes with a belief in the gospel. It is generally agreed upon that this term can be used to describe Europe and most (if not all) of America.

Although I understand its use, and would even admit that it is sometimes helpful, I do not like the word. It is useful insofar as we use it to describe cultural movements, such as the values presented in the arts and media or the way Christianity generally affects the presuppositions of a society. Despite my dislike of the term, I will use it in this way.

The problem with the word arises when we use it missionally to refer to the spiritual nature of people. I have never met a “post-Christian” person. All people, if divided into categories of how they relate to the gospel, are either Christians, if they have believed the gospel, or they are not Christians, if they have not believed it. A post-Christian person would be someone who has lost his salvation, or one who God let slip from his hand. This cannot happen. Amongst people who are not Christians, we may also put them into two categories: those who have heard the gospel and rejected it and those who have not heard the gospel and have never had the chance to make a decision. In the case of Europe, it is my experience (from three years living in Paris) that the vast majority of people have never heard the gospel and, consequently, never had the chance to respond to it. These are the same people we are unjustly describing as “post-Christian.”

I’ll share an example with you. One day a couple of years ago I was distributing Bibles outside of a prominent French university in Paris. A French girl approached our table and asked us what we were doing. I answered that we were giving away free Bibles and that she was welcome to have one if she wanted. Her response was eye-opening to me. She said, “La Bible de quoi?” (The Bible of what?)

Often, when a book is an authority on a subject, we will say that the volume is “the Bible of” that particular field. While the French girl was familiar with that expression, she had no idea what the actual Bible was. I responded to her question by saying “la Bible de Dieu.” (the Bible of God) She smiled and said, “Ah, Ça m’interesse.” (That interests me) She took the Bible and walked off.

While I am not trying to insinuate that most Europeans have never heard of the Bible, I am making the point that most here, despite the fact that their ancestors wrestled much with the gospel, have never had the chance to wrestle with it themselves. While there are gospel-centered churches here, they are a marginal percentage of the population and filled largely with non-indigenous immigrant populations. While it might be fair to call the culture in Europe “post-Christian,” the majority of the people of Europe are “pre-Christian.” They have never heard that Jesus died on the cross for their sins in order to make them right with God, and that this is accepted by faith. Consequently, they have no mental category for salvation from sin or even the idea that they need one. Without someone who is sent, they have no more access to the gospel than anyone from a people group we label as “unreached.” They have only what the scripture affirms they have, namely, a God-shaped hole that needs to be filled and a guilt that comes from their sin.

For this reason I get frustrated when mission agencies talk of “unreached” people groups. Normally Europe is neatly placed into the “reached” category and labeled as “Post-Christian.” It is in this context that I despise this term. It is both inaccurate in its description of the spiritual condition of Europe and theologically wrong in its implications concerning conversion. It also assumes pessimism about the potential for the gospel to again take root. After all, why can’t Europe be thought of as pre-Christian? Why can we not expect revival in France? Why can we expect God to do great things all over the world and yet not expect Him to move in Germany? If God birthed the modern mission movement in England, do we expect him to now to be done with her and move on?

I want to propose a different way to think about this problem. In Tim Keller’s book, Center Church, he proposes thinking of the church’s relationship to a culture in terms of four seasons. Winter is described as the situation where the church is in a hostile relationship to a pre-Christian culture. Spring is a season that sees church growth, perhaps in spite of difficulties and persecutions placed by the pre-Christian culture. Summer sees culture greatly impacted by the church, in what Richard Niebuhr described as an “allied church.” Christians feel at home in the culture during this season. Finally, in autumn, the church becomes “increasingly marginalized” in a culture that has moved past Christian values. (Keller, Tim. Center Church, 237-238)

Keller’s established these categories to help us think about the Church’s relationship to culture. He suggests that, when approaching the way we believe a church ought to relate to the culture, one ought to consider the season that their culture finds itself in. I agree, and this has helped me think about how to relate to what is going around me in the autumn of Europe. I would like, however, to use this way of dividing cultures to think missionally.

If we look at the history of the church, we see that the West has already seen the church progress through decline and corruption, only to see it later reawaken with revival. While it is true that the current situation, with the growing smallness of the world and easy access to information, presents new challenges that have not been faced before, we nevertheless have reason to anticipate revival. People still have a desire for God, and this hope still lingers underneath the pride in our technology and the arrogance in our “tolerance.” The church should present the gospel in a relevant way, paying attention to the season, without descending into the despair that seems to be prevalent in the minds of the way many think about missions in Europe.

What season, then, is Europe in? Keller identifies the churches in the West as being generally in the autumn phase, “becoming increasingly marginalized in a post-Christian culture and looking for new ways to both strengthen our distinctiveness and reach out winsomely” (Keller, 238). Though I think some consideration should be given to an argument that could be made for Europe passing into the hostile winter season, I agree with him culturally speaking. Wisdom dictates that missionaries lead their thoughts in this direction when it comes to the way they engage culture.

The problem arises, however, when mission organizations begin their approach to Europe and their ideas of “unreached” people groups thinking in this manner. If the culture is “post-Christian,” the culture has had their chance. It was once summer there, and they willingly let it pass into the cold. The leaves are falling from the tree, and it is their own fault. This culture rejected the gospel, so let us go somewhere that has not heard it.

Thus many think. Yet, as in the case with the young French girl who had never heard of the Bible, can we really conclude that she had rejected the gospel because, years before she was born, her culture started gradually making decisions to move away from Christ? This girl was just as lost and clueless about eternal life as the remote tribes who have yet to have a witness. Her culture is passing from autumn into winter, and has, therefore, not seen substantial witness of Christ in a long time. While the culture is post-Christian, it has been post-Christian for so long that the people cling to pre-Christian ideas. The Christian ideals that are still held in the society exist subconsciously; that is, they are ideas that have grown out of a Christian worldview but are not recognized as such. They do not understand the influence of the gospel, because they have never really heard the gospel message. They do not know what kind of influence the gospel can have.

Thus, my proposal is that we limit the term “post-Christian” to our thoughts concerning how we relate to culture. If we use this term missionally, we will paint an inaccurate picture of the people living in “post-Christian cultures” and assume a pessimism concerning what we expect God to do in these places. Similarly, I do not find the terms “reached” and “unreached” very helpful. Only God knows when a group has been fully “reached.” This is not for us to judge.

Do we expect great things from God? Can God work amongst people who are products of a post-Christian culture? Absolutely. The gospel is the power of God for salvation for all who believe, and it has the same power in all cultures. Let us be a people who believe God can bring cultures from the dead of winter to a new harvest of spring.

Huffed and Puffed Houses

“According to the grace of God which was given to me, like a wise master builder I laid a foundation, and another is building on it. But each man must be careful how he builds on it. For no man can lay a foundation other than the one which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if any man builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each man’s work will become evident; for the day will show it because it is to be revealed with fire, and the fire itself will test the quality of each man’s work.”

1 Corinthians 3:10-14

“Little pig, little pig, let me in…”

“Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin…”

I had an amusing first lesson with my new youth group this Sunday. I used the story of the “Three Little Pigs” to try and illustrate the above text, and our conversation about it was enlightening. My group comes from many different nationalities, so different versions of the story came out. In the French version, for example, the little pigs whose houses were built of straw and sticks, and, consequently, blown down, were actually eaten by the big bad wolf. In the much more humane American version (and, perhaps, less realistic), the little pigs were blown by the huff-and-puff of the wolf into the brick house of their wiser brother.

Regardless of the degree of barbeque involved, the point of the story remains relevant and biblical. It is important how you build. There is no foundation that can hold against the elements other than Christ. Once on that foundation, however, one must decide how they construct their house.

You may choose to build houses of straw or sticks. The first two pigs chose this route, as it took less time and effort. There were plenty of these weaker materials lying all about. They could throw some of them together and be lounging in their new living rooms in no time. It was certainly the quickest way to get four walls and a roof.

Yet the big bad wolf was coming. The easy and weak houses were not strong enough to stand when the adversity came against them, and they fell. Perhaps you also chose the convenience of building your house on straw and sticks. You neglected to get serious about God’s word. You determined that you didn’t need to go to church in order to live a Christian life. A vibrant prayer life is something you always said would happen “someday.” Consequently, in the place of bricks, gold, silver, and precious stones, you built your house with hay, wood, sticks, and straw. And perhaps, like the poor little pigs, your house has been blown to the ground.

The fire reveals the purity of the work and is capable of devouring the whole structure. Yet the foundation, if it is laid on the strong rock of Christ and not on the sinking sand, will never give way. If you are in a place today where you find nothing but that foundation; if you are standing in the open air looking at the fallen rubble of what was once your house of straw, then there is nothing left to do but rebuild. But be careful how you build! Every day we must decide the quality of materials with which we build our house. We must choose wisely, as there are always big bad wolves just around the corner ready to test the quality of our work.

The third little pig had no reason to fear the fangs of the wolf. The house he had built was ample protection…even in the French version of the story. So as with the house built with God’s word.

The wolf huffed and puffed but he could not blow down that brick house.

The Joy of the Bittersweet

“For God is my witness, how I long for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 1:8

There is a great café in Paris that I’ll visit as soon as possible upon my reentry in France. Angelina’s has the world’s best hot chocolate (that is a fact, not an opinion). It is a strong and thick chocolate, and drinking it is like sipping on a melted candy bar. It is very sweet, and one cannot drink too much or they will get sick. There is just the right amount of bitter aftertaste at the end that perfects the experience. It is, however, a bittersweet chocolate.

I find the term “bittersweet” interesting. This paradoxical word helps us to describe something that we feel all too often. After every sweet gulp of life there lingers a small amount of bitterness that keeps us longing for a perfection that we haven’t quite grasped. The sweetness tempts us with hope, but it still remains a hope that has not yet been perfectly fulfilled.

I am sitting in the Charlotte airport with a bittersweet feeling. I am moving back to Paris, a city that I love and long to see know Jesus. I got a great job at a church working with youth and am thrilled with the opportunity to invest in young lives. I am about to renew old friendships in France after being away for a year. I have so much to be thankful for, and I am taking in all the sweetness of God’s provisions for me.

Yet even while enjoying these provisions, there is still a small, bitter aftertaste that I must endure. I have said many good-byes in the past few days. Some of the good-byes will be for short times, and others for long times. It was bitter saying good-bye to some friends that I don’t know when I’ll see again. It was bitter to walk out of my sister’s house last night after hugging my niece and nephew. It was bitter leaving my parents at the terminal as I proceeded through airport security. All of those steps leading me away from my loved ones were heavy steps.

Yet the steps toward God’s call were light. It is here, in this bittersweet life, where God has called us to perform the good works that He has prepared for us. While it was difficult leaving, I am thrilled to be following God down his narrow road. These mixed feelings, I have learned, will always be a part of our present and momentary troubles. No matter what continent I live on I will always be missing people I love. There will always be bittersweet feelings.

Yet bittersweet chocolate, as I hope I have already established, tastes delicious; and just like the bittersweet chocolate, this bittersweet feeling is good. It is a good thing that we long for one another, as Paul did for the Philippian church that he had to take heavy steps away from. The bitterness is only evidence of a deeper sweetness that waits only to be reawakened according to God’s providential guidance. The longing that we have for our loved ones is evidence that we have the treasure of relationships. The bittersweet experience of being away from loved ones is much better than the bitter experience of not having loved ones to miss.

I am blessed of God to have such an enormous weight of bittersweetness on my shoulders right now. This “bittersweetness” would not be possible without all of the great people that God has put in my path through the years. It is a great gift to be able to say, with Paul, that I “long for all of you in Christ Jesus.” It is a gift I treasure, and the bitterness only affirms its worth. While the bitterness may nevertheless be tough to swallow, it will only strengthen the sweetness of the moment when our longing is fulfilled.

All of these longings, of course, are only echoes of a deeper longing. God will fulfill that one as well.

dev187 - Shootings and Depravity

"as it is written,

'There is none righteous, not even one;"

Romans 3:10

In the past year there have been two significant shootings in Europe. One took place in Norway and was accompanied by a bomb, and the other in France at a Jewish school. I thought the response of the people from these countries was interesting and I have a few thoughts.

In both cases the gut reaction was to declare the criminal to be crazy. This reminded me of one of my favorite movies, the 1995 thriller Seven, in which a serial killer undertakes a sequence of murders according to the seven deadly sins. Throughout this movie, the two detectives (played by Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt) are having a continual conversation about the saneness of the killer. The young, naïve Brad Pitt insists that the actions of this murderer come from his mental problems, while the more experienced Morgan Freeman argues that his actions come from the simple fact that he is sanely choosing to do evil things.

At the end of the movie they meet the killer and discover that he is closer to a genius than a madman. He has full charge of his faculties and knows exactly what he is doing. The movie is a powerful message about the depravity of man, as Brad Pitt’s character soon learns that he is also capable of the sin that he had formally stood as judge over. In the end, he was just as adept at murder as the serial killer.

Freeman’s character understood human depravity from his years of police work. We have the opportunity to understand it from God’s word. Romans 3:10-20 is an emphatic statement about the true nature of humanity. It boldly affirms that no one is righteous. This is not merely a theological doctrine but a terrifying and ever-present reality. People are evil. This scares us.

And, because this scares us, we want to imitate Brad Pitt’s character and write these killers off as crazy. If they were less than human then we would not be capable of their sin. We could continue to think of mankind as basically good and not have to worry that we have weaknesses of our own. The frightening truth, however, is that these killers do not represent an aberration from the norm. The same weakness that dwells in them also abides in us. Mankind is not basically good…and neither am I.

The European killers ended up being remarkably similar to the killer in the movie Seven. One had a far right-winged political agenda, and the other was a militant Islamist. They knew what they were doing and did it intentionally, much the same way we intentionally choose to hate our brothers and rebel against God. These crimes shatter the humanism of our postmodern world and force us to a higher ethic. We answer to God’s law, and we will be judged by it. Perhaps God will have mercy on us murderers

Seven ends with a great line by Morgan Freeman’s character in which he quotes from For Whom the Bell Tolls. He says, "Ernest Hemingway once wrote, ‘The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.’ I agree with the second part." Indeed.

The Pooey Princess

Once upon a time there was a rejoicing kingdom. The rejoicing king of the rejoicing kingdom was rejoicing because he had just become the proud papa of a beautiful little girl whom he named Ananda, which is the word for joy in some other language he knew. He knew that this little princess brought hope to his, until then, heirless kingdom, as all that remained was to marry her to a prince, and his kingdom would be preserved. With such excitement running through the nation, the king threw a great banquet for the entire population under his rule.

The crowd for this banquet was enormous with each citizen thrilled to be a part of such a fantastic event. There were wide smiles and hearty laughs found in the souls of nearly each person present. However, there was one in their midst who had mischief on his mind. A mysterious magician from the mountains had snuck into the banquet in disguise with plans of disrupting the party by placing a curse upon the princess. He was hidden amongst the crowd, awaiting just the right moment to strike.

The king had been making his rounds and greeting his guests when he finally turned to go before the crowd to make a grand presentation of his newly born child. As the crowd hushed in eager expectation, the queen entered the room carrying the future sovereign. She handed Ananda to the King, and he held her in his arms so that the people might see her for themselves. The child was gorgeous, and there were ooh’s and ah’s to be heard all over the room as the people looked on with admiration. It was now, while everyone was thus enamored, that the magician made his move. He jumped upon a table and declared in a loud voice:

With my piercing words all your hopes will surely sink,

From this moment forward the sweet princess will stink.

There will be no relief, from below or above,

Until she encounters the pure bliss of true love.

With these words, the magician smiled, wisped his cape around his body, and disappeared into thin air.

A silence overtook the crowd as the shock of what had just happened had rendered them speechless. All eyes turned to the king as he held the princess to see if the magician’s curse would indeed cause her to smell. It immediately became evident that the curse was effective as the color of king’s face was changing from his normal pinkish hue to a more disturbing shade of light purple. He quickly moved toward the nurse to hand her off before he passed out from the overwhelming stench that was filling his nostrils. Yet, to his dismay, the nurse also had to retreat, as the foul odor had quickly permeated the room. The crowd was fleeing the chamber, and while the family initially tried to look after the tiny princess, they too had to leave. The King sat the baby on a cushioned chair and managed to escape the banquet room before the smell caused him to pass out. Less than a minute had passed since the magician had disappeared, yet the banquet hall had already been emptied of all life save the poor lonely princess who was lying helpless in the room.

As lonely as this scene appears for the princess, it would be wrong to conclude that her family did not care for her. The truth is quite the contrary; the reason they left her there was because they were afraid they would drop her if they passed out and passing out was a real danger. The smell was so malodorous and spread so quickly that within a few minutes it had overtaken everyone present. Upon leaving the banquet room, the king quickly sprang into action for the sake of his daughter. He caught his breath, put a clothespin on his nose and reentered the stench laden room to retrieve his daughter. He grabbed her, hurried her to her chamber, and managed to lay her in her crib just before the smell overtook him. Just as he laid her down in her bed, he passed out beside it. The servants then quickly came in and carried him out as the princess slept peacefully in her bed.

When the king awoke, he quickly put a plan into action for the care of the princess. A greater number of servants were brought in, and a large number of clothespins and cotton balls were purchased. After much trial and error, the family learned that if they soaked the clothespins and cotton balls in perfume, they could stand the smell of the princess long enough to be in her presence for ten minutes at a time. The servants would then alternate shifts in order to take care of her needs, and the king and queen would also take their turns in order to make her feel loved. Nevertheless, the princess had many days of hardship in store for her.

There was little amusement for the child in her younger years, but she took comfort in wearing the family jewels. No riches were withheld from her. She wore all kinds of jewelry, set with diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. Her favorite piece was a rare red diamond necklace that had been in her family for generations that was worth a fortune. She loved the pretty jewelry in her family, and this brought her some sanctuary. Her jewels were the most important thing in her life. When friends and family had to leave her presence, her jewels stayed. They were the sad princess’s best friends.

The family tried everything to rid her of this jinx. She was washed thoroughly multiple times to no effect. The finest perfumes were brought in from all over the world, but none of them could overtake the smell of the curse. They even brought in priests to try to cleanse her spiritually, but this was all to no avail. They began to comprehend that there was only one way to cure her of the stench. They must address the problem on the magician’s terms-to rid her of the curse, she must encounter “the pure bliss of true love.”

The family’s hopes about the princess finding a prince to marry her grew as the princess grew older. The servants took good care of her, and her physical beauty blossomed like a young rose that had just awakened to bless the dawn of a new spring. By her sixteenth birthday, she had developed into the most beautiful maiden in all the land. She had deep blue eyes that one would get lost in if he happened to make eye contact with her. She had flowing blond hair and a beautiful smile which, despite the difficulty that her curse had caused, communicated a joy that seemed to be worthy of her name. This was combined with the best attire that money could buy and, of course, the princess’s precious jewels.

It is easier to be joyful when one is hopeful, and hopeful she was. While she understood she was cursed, she did not experience it the same way that others did. She did not actually smell herself, so she had failed to understand how difficult it was to be in her presence. She also looked in the mirror and saw how beautiful she was, so she was very optimistic about finding a young prince to bring true love to her and take her burden from her.

A great artist in the kingdom painted an exquisite portrait of her (which he could only do in ten minute intervals), and that portrait was sent to all the surrounding kingdoms with a message informing them that the stunning princess in the portrait was looking to marry.  Many eager young princes looked deep into the blue eyes that stared back at them from the portrait and decided to make a trip to meet the damsel in the painting with unprecedented beauty.

After the first month of the Ananda’s sixteenth birthday, the royal family entertained dozens of potential suitors. Yet time after time, the princes took one whiff of the odor that she was emitting and fled. There was even one prince, who being so enamored with her beauty, attempted for days to endure her presence. He tried the same tricks the servants did: the perfume, the clothespins, the cotton balls. However, he was never able to stand it for much longer than ten minutes. Once he hit the eleven minute mark before he passed out and had to be dragged out of her room. The young man understood that true love was needed to cure her, so he thought that perhaps if he kissed her then the curse would be lifted. Yet, to everyone’s disappointment, his kiss proved to be woefully impotent. Evidently, true love was not to be found in his kiss or in his efforts. Disappointed at being unable to conquer the curse, he left the kingdom.

Ananda’s hope diminished with each failed suitor, and, as often happens when hope fades, her joy began to dwindle away. She sank into a deeper depression with each passing day as she began to ponder the idea of a future without love and dominated by the odor being emitted from her body. She now clearly saw her problem-she couldn’t cure the curse without love, but she couldn’t find love because of the curse.

Eventually the suitors stopped coming. Ananda would look out of her window during the day longing to see a caravan that would renew her hopes, but time and time again she would be disappointed. By the time of her seventeenth birthday she had lost all hope of finding true love.

It is a very dangerous thing to lose hope. Human beings were created in such a way as to expect good things, and their hopes, once disappointed, simply search for new things to place their hope in. However, once the lists of hopes have been exhausted to the point where there is no longer positive expectation, terrible things happen. That human being begins to become less than human. The distinctive beauty that comes with having a soul begins to fade into something that can only be described as death. There is no greater danger for people than to be found in a hopeless state.

Ananda was approaching this point. She saw no way of finding love and curing her curse, so she did something desperate. She decided to flee the castle. She waited until the middle of the night and disguised herself in rags and a hood. Under the rags in which she dressed herself, she hid her most prized possession around her neck, her red diamond necklace, which she wanted as a memento of her family and her former life. She fled the castle and soon found herself in an unfamiliar place, as she had never actually left the security of the castle. She followed the road and quickly found herself in the center of the town. She sat on a bench there and watched just as the sun was climbing into the sky out of the darkness.

With the morning came people, and people have noses. Noses quickly recognize unpleasant odors, and it wasn’t long before Ananda was assumed to be a beggar and asked to leave the center of town. She proceeded further and further away from the town center with people continually asking her to go further away. Eventually she got to a very poor area of town where she found a bench. Exhausted from not having slept the night before, she laid down there without reflection and, in her depression, drifted off to sleep.

She awoke several hours later and examined her surroundings. She was in a slum, and this was a strange experience for her. She had never before left the castle and its beautiful marble floors and painted ceilings. Yet here was a place that seemed to be falling apart. The small shelters she saw looked as if a strong gust of wind would blow them down. It seemed to her that the people who lived in this neighborhood had mistaken their street for a garbage dump, as litter littered the street. But it was on that trash filled road where the princess first experienced something that had had such an impact on her life to that point. She finally understood the concept of “stink.”

That place smelled horrible. The odor was a complicated mix of sewage, sweat, and body odor. What she had not noticed before in her fatigue now hit her like a ton of bricks. The smell was filling her nostrils aggressively, and it made her faint. Yet, in experiencing the stench of that neighborhood, a new resolve was born in her. All of her life people had been fleeing her because of her smell. She would not flee. Determined to conquer what those close to her had not been able to conquer, she sat on that bench intending to savor every rank scent that the slums could muster.

Hours passed. Then the hours turned into a day. Still another day passed. She sat there until she got tired, then she slept. After she slept, she awoke only to continue smelling. Lack of food and water eventually made her weak, but she was unwilling to take care of her own needs. She only wanted to smell in her solitude. The people of the neighborhood, however, had noticed her and had pity on her. They had discussed the strange girl on the bench in their homes, and eventually one lady decided to offer her some food.

“Hey, dere,” she said. “My name’s Rakas, and I couldn’t help but noticin’ that you’ve been sittin’ dere for a long time. Is there somthun wrong wit’ ya?”

“You can’t tell what’s wrong with me?” the princess replied.

“Well, I ‘spect you oughta be mighty hungry and thirsty.”

“No, not that. I mean that I stink. You haven’t noticed?”

Rakas approached her and took a whiff. “Whew! You do stink. But it ain’t no matter, we all stink honey. Far be it for me to be a judgin’ someone for that. It’s been a while since I’ve bathed myself. Besides, this neighborhood isn’t exactly known for smelling like flowers.”

Ananda smiled, feeling as if she had found a kindred spirit. Rakas then spoke again, “I can tell yer hungry. Why doncha come over and have lunch wit’ us?”

Ananda replied that she would like that very much and followed Rakas to her home. The home was a dump, but Ananda was just happy to be somewhere with people who wouldn’t pass out in her presence. She was invited to sit at their table and a bowl of gruel was sat down in front of her.

Ananda was very hungry, but she had never seen food that repulsed her as much as the bowl of gruel. She had only ever eaten the large, extravagant feasts that had been offered to her in the castle, so a meager bowl of gruel looked very unappealing. She began to think that these were some pretty poor hosts when this nasty looking substance was all that was offered.

“Yer lucky that we got a little extri’ gruel today. I see the look in yer eye, but don’t protest. We’re happy to share it with ya.”

After hearing this, Ananda felt a tidal wave of shame flood over her soul. She had never imagined that there were people in her kingdom who lived on such meager rations as this. She tasted the gruel and determined that this dish had earned its appellation. She realized how privileged she had been growing up in the castle and, for the first time, began to understand the responsibility that she had to help. She began to think of ways she could help this family and this neighborhood and discovered that she had enormous means to be able to improve their situation. What she didn’t notice, however, was that for the first time, she was thinking about other people’s misery rather than her own.

She asked Rakas what the needs of her family were. She gave a long list, talking about the difficulty they had in keeping food on the table, the scarcity of good water, and a terrible virus that had been going through the neighborhood that her son had caught. They told her that their neighbor’s girl had recently died from the same virus that their son had, and they were all anxious that they wouldn’t be able to find enough money to provide for his medication.

Ananda asked if others in the neighborhood had similar problems, and Rakas stated that most were worse off than they were. Ananda requested to be introduced to them, and she spent the rest of the day going into the other homes in the neighborhoods and learning about their situations. All her life she had been shielded from poverty, disease, and death, but one day in the slums helped her to understand the true condition of the kingdom. Every family didn’t live in comfort and luxury as she had, and, while she did have a curse, it was a curse that was so trivial that the people in the slums didn’t even notice. She wanted to do something for them, but how could she help?

As this thought passed through her conscience, she felt the cold of the necklace against her skin under her clothes. An immediate bolt of fear shrieked through her body as the knowledge of what ought to happen met her selfish desires in a terrible collision. Her beloved red diamond was worth far more than this entire neighborhood and would be more than enough to ensure that these children didn’t die of disease and that they would have an education. It would allow each family to have clean water and food on the table. It would completely change the lives of the residence of the slums. Yet, it would also mean her giving up the one comfort that had helped her through her miserable existence.

It would mean sacrifice. Sacrifice is one of those ideas that look beautiful from afar only to become more and more repulsive as it is approached personally. The great stories that grip us are those where we see someone make a costly ransom for the sake of a greater, holier good, yet we are far less gripped by the sacrificial opportunities with which we are continually presented. Ananda was here presented with one of those opportunities. The diamond that hung around her neck could save hundreds of people, yet this was the one thing she didn’t think she could give to them.

No one could observe the battle raging in her heart. The poverty-stricken friends that she had just made had no idea who she was or that she was even capable of making such an offering. It was an average day at around 2 in the afternoon. Children were heard laughing as they played in the street. Mothers were hanging up laundry, and fathers were busy trying to find work. Normal life was happening all around Ananda, yet this was the most important moment of her young life. Would she give?

The thought of selling the necklace made her sick, but she quickly ran out of the slums into a wealthy area of town. She immediately went to a jeweler and presented him with the diamond. He was shocked to see such a fine stone and wondered who this girl could be. Yet he was fair and offered her the true value of the diamond which was far more than she had expected. She took the money before she could allow herself to be tempted to be selfish and immediately began her mission to turn around the neighborhood.

Over the next few weeks, the area formally called the slums needed a new name. The men of the neighborhood were immediately hired to clean up the quarter and earned fair wages to make it beautiful. A hospital was constructed and competent doctors were employed there full time. A school began in the community and proper teachers were hired. New industries were brought in, and many new jobs were readily available. Within a few months, the whole place was completely transformed.

Yet the biggest transformation happened in the heart of Princess Ananda. She built a house in the neighborhood and decided to live amongst them. She was no longer sitting around depressed over what would happen to her; rather, she was actively concerning herself with what would happen to the people around her. She was obsessed with their good and spent very little time thinking about herself at all. Her beautiful smile was the trademark of the neighborhood, and it made the people believe in themselves again. Her goodwill was contagious. She longed to see the entire kingdom know the prosperity that this neighborhood was now experiencing. She had learned to live with less and never regretted her decision to leave the castle or to sell the diamond. She did, however, miss her family.

While all of this was happening, the jeweler began to inquire of the origin of the massive red diamond that the strange girl had brought into his shop. As he followed the trail, he eventually came to realize that this diamond had come from the castle and the royal family. As you might imagine, the royal family had become quite frantic with the loss of their daughter. Months had passed, and they had been all over in search for her, yet no one had any information. The King and Queen had nearly lost hope when the jeweler arrived at the castle.

After seeing the necklace, the Sovereigns immediately knew that it must have come from Ananda. They went back with the jeweler to his shop and began to explore the surrounding districts to find news of their daughter. Eventually, they came to a particularly pretty area and were confused because it was a part of their kingdom that they did not remember. They walked inside a park that they had never seen before when they noticed a young lady with golden blond hair, and it was unmistakably their long loss daughter. They called out to her and ran to her, excited but expecting to be overwhelmed by the odor of the curse. Ananda saw her parents and ran to their embrace. To the astonishment of both sides, they realized that she no longer stunk. The curse had been broken! They jumped in joyous laughter and celebrated together before the question entered their minds. How had the curse been broken?

“Who is the young man,” asked the king, “who brought true love to you? I assume you are married.”

“No,” said Ananda. “There has been no romance in my life at all. I have just been busy trying to help these people. You should’ve seen the state of this neighborhood when I arrived.”

Suddenly at this moment, out of nowhere, the magician reappeared. He smiled at the party and then said:

I can see you have learned from all your reeking

That the pure bliss of true love is not self-seeking

Its value is not found in hug or embrace,

Neither ugliness nor stench can thwart this grace.

Love is the law by which all good things are bound,

There is no peace until its bounties are found.

Search not your meaning in the things you receive,

It’s in what you give that purpose is achieved.

dev186

“But to each one of us grace was given according to the measure of Christ’s gift.”

Ephesians 4:7

America has a problem with materialism. I will not dispute that. It is tragic the way so many people measure their worth and contentment based on the things that they possess. While I think the popular Christian criticism of this problem is for the most part fair and the consequent shift towards increased giving towards missions and social justice an incredible and righteous alteration, I do think that the Christian fight against materialism has gone one step too far.

I do not like the fact that the way we traditionally celebrate Christmas is being thrown into the same materialist basket. I admit a bias. I come from a family that went all out for me for Christmas. I did not get an allowance growing up and my parents would not buy me random toys when we went out. There were two times of the year when I could get things to play with, a smaller portion for my birthday and an overwhelming abundance of gifts under the tree when I woke up on Christmas morning. I think that this had a positive impact on my life, though my experience as a child is different from my adult experience.

As a child I understood one thing much better than I understand it today, namely, how to receive a gift. As a child I was completely dependent on my parents, so I received things from them without ever thinking that I had to pay them back. I received presents and was truly grateful. This made me good at receiving. Yet as a child I had a different problem, namely, I had to be taught how to give. My natural selfishness made it difficult to give because I was me-first.

Now that I am grown up I find myself having the opposite problem, and I observe the same problem in many others. Adults also have a me-first mentality, only this leads them to be good givers and bad receivers. It is a lot of fun to pay for someone’s lunch, yet having my lunch paid for (which has happened quite often this Christmas season) makes me uncomfortable. I feel like I need to be square with everyone. I don’t want to depend on others and, consequently, I always feel the need to pay back people for a gift. This makes me a bad receiver of gifts and prevents me from being thankful.

Spending the last three years in France I saw what this attitude can do. People there are very suspicious of gifts and it is difficult to give something to someone without expecting something in return. Even their idea of Santa Claus involves earning your gifts by being good all year. There are no gifts just for the sake of giving. If one person gives one thing, the other must also give something of equal value in order to be in right relationship.

This idea is human arrogance. Before God we find ourselves in a position where a gift is offered and we have no means of offering anything close to reciprocal. Out salvation, our life purposes, our families, and each breath we breathe are gifts from the Lord that we receive and cannot pay back. Our dependence necessitates that we respond to these gifts, not with trying to be square with God in generosity, but in loving thankfulness and the humility that comes with it.

To be specific about my gripe, I don’t like the upcoming popular Christian notion that giving gifts to families and friends ought to be replaced with giving to stop global poverty or that the gospel may go to the nations. Certainly I am for those things, but one should not have to compete with the other. I can give to those things without neglecting to give to my closest circles, and I am afraid of the consequences at what would happen to our society if we stopped exchanging gifts for Christmas. We need not only to be a people who give gifts, but also a people who receive them. The importance of the jacket I received from my parents this Christmas is not simply that I have another article of clothing (although I do and can certainly use it), but that I have received a gift from my parents. I was thankful. And while I also gave them a gift, there was never any feeling that my gift had to be equal to theirs. We exchanged gifts from each other and we experienced joy. I was happy to see my brother-in-law enjoying the slippers I got him and my sister playing the game I got her. They received their gifts well, and good receiving brings joy to the giver. To not receive gifts well is to rob the giver of joy. This is robbery to our friends and family, and ultimately robbery from God.

Let us not think that it is wrong to receive gifts. God gives to each person according to the measure of Christ’s gift, and let us not ask God to alter his gift according to what would make us more comfortable. Let us be children running to the tree on Christmas morning and respond in dependent gratitude.