Monday, April 14, 2014

The Selfish Lie


In the gospel of Jesus Christ there are two elements constantly at play. One is what Christ taught. The other is how we interpret and put into practice what Christ taught. As an LDS people we have "righteousness" down to a science. It shows up as a lengthy list of appropriate beverages, proper hemlines, ages when things ought to happen (or not happen), how often one shaves his face, what callings a person has served in, and a lengthy list of attributes we endlessly strive to emulate. In the moments where these yard sticks come out, publicly or in private, I can't help but imagine God slapping His palm to His holy forehead and wondering once again, "How can I ever get them to see the forest through the trees?" It's true, Coke isn't really healthy and callings have the potential to refine us into more Christ centered people, but there is a "looking beyond the mark" I would like to address today, and I want to do it through the extensively perpetuated lie of selfishness, and the truth about charity.

Each individual on the earth is not only entitled to, but responsible for working out his or her own health and happiness. It's a stewardship--like a visiting or home teaching calling. That's not a lesson we're taught in Sunday school, but it is an eternal truth. We know the lessons on charity, sacrifice, sanctification, the refiner's fire, selflessness, meekness, humility and pride, but I have never been there for the lesson about how to care for oneself or a mere mention of how incredibly important it is. As we put into practice the aforementioned principles I fear we neglect this key concept of caring for ones self. We cannot have one without the other. The river will run dry, and who do we expect to replenish the river?

When we hop on Hollywood's train wreck and assume a spouse or lover will somehow fill every nook and cranny of our depleted, love starved souls that we've spent years neglecting in an effort to be "selfless", we set ourselves and our relationships up for dramatic and inevitable failure. Ask yourself, "What do I need to feel replenished and ready to serve my neighbor?" If you don't know, how can you expect your partner to contribute in any way? And really, is it his or her responsibility?

No. No it's not.

It's our job to know ourselves-- what we don't like, what builds us up, how we handle stress, what brings us down, and it's our job to make sure we get plenty of what we need. Without this grounding we are ill tuned and unbalanced instruments in the hands of God. If you are lucky enough to have a loving, devoted partner who is a perfect yin to your yang, the stars have aligned and you have special help on your journey to self discovery, but you will always be the captain of this ship.

But what about God? God will replenish me for my faithful devotion, right?

This is true, but in order to fully realize this blessing we need to understand the character of God. I believe in a God of miracles. He parted the red sea, forgave sins, raised the dead, overcame physical and spiritual death and created the platypus--all of which is nothing compared to the way He can heal a broken heart. God can do all things, but He has His methods, and they are typically to work through logical, natural means. This means the blessings He sends us are more likely to be things like finding an extra hour to nap in a day that was so jam packed we never would have thought it would be possible to get in that greatly needed rest, and less like making a day 25 hours long for our resting pleasure. There's a story of a man in a flood. He climbs on the roof of a house and prays to be rescued. As the water rises first a man on a raft stops by, then a man in a boat, then a helicopter. All three tell him to climb aboard, but the man's answer? "It's okay. God will save me. You go ahead."

God will replenish you, if you will take the nap, the extended hand, the priesthood blessing, the art class, the vacation, the new dress, the opportunity to further your career so you can have a fulfilling job, or the opportunity to say, "No, I just can't help you with that right now."

To be selfish is to act in ones own best interest with no regard or concern for the wellbeing of others. It is a focus on self that extends beyond coming to understand oneself and comes at the cost of compassion. It's when your seven year old self eats two ice cream sundaes in front of your little sister because you can, and you know she will hate it, even though the second ice cream sundae is guaranteed to make you sick.

To be selfless is to recognize that there are times when it is appropriate or necessary for your needs to come second, and that that's okay. (*Notice this does not say"become non-existent".) It's when a new parent is exhausted beyond comprehension but still gets out of bed to hold the crying baby.

And now, for the truth about charity. Moroni 7 teaches us that charity is, "the pure love of Christ." But what does that mean? I've been pondering that lately and this is what I've settled on. Charity is when you see people the way God and Christ see them. Because you see the good in them, the kindness and service that naturally follows is a simple byproduct. It's not a forced, mechanized action performed inauthentically in order to check it off the "how to get righteous" list. It's love. Real true, honest to goodness love, and when it comes from that place, it's nowhere near as draining. The thing to remember, the thing we somehow always manage to forget is that God wants us to experience that love too, and He's counting on us to show that love--to others, yes, but perhaps most importantly to ourselves.

2 comments:

  1. I LOVE this! I've always he to he notion that God enjoins us to "love our neighbor AS ourselves" not INSTEAD of ourselves. Good on ya, sister

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  2. Mother Teresa Said, "If you do something out of duty it depletes you. If you do something out of love, it energizes you."

    (Above comment was from Joseph, who read this blog with me. Thanks for writing these, please keep them coming.)

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