Announcer Voice: “Previously, on ‘How to Fix a Broken Chooser’ . . .” In the first installment of this three-part series of posts I made this statement:

This whole series of posts is for Christians who seemingly, in hindsight, make the wrong choice over and over. Or who, in at least one area of their lives, get bad outcomes in the choices they make.

In that first installment, I also wrote this:

I can say with reasonable confidence that I’ve never once made a good image-driven or status-driven decision. 

If you haven’t read that post, stop now, click here and read it, and them come back here a week from now when you’re finished. (Okay, it may be a little on the LONG side.)

I can say with equal confidence that I’ve never made a good FEAR-driven decision, either. But I can look back across my life and identify many fear-driven decisions that were terrible ones. That’s the insidious thing about fear. It convinces you that it’s the voice of wisdom, prudence, and reason–when in reality fear is really, truly, fundamentally like having an evil idiot for an advisor.

This relates to something I said in the previous post about our ability to rationalize logically what we, at an emotional level, think we want. When I’m teaching and training marketing/sales folks, I make sure they understand that all decision-making starts with emotion.

In other words, the “heart” chooses and then asks the “head” to sign off on it. That moment—when the head is being asked to validate an emotional preference that is not at all rooted in reason—rationalization steps in to “help.”

Yes, all decision making starts with emotion. And there are few emotions more powerful or more visceral than fear. The huge problem with having fear be your “decision-driver” is that it usually drives you to the wrong choice. Along these lines, the mystic-sage Dr. Phil has said:

“Eighty percent of all choices are based on fear. Most people don’t choose what they want; they choose what they think is safe.”

I suspect this has always been true. BUT . . . the age of the smart phones, social media, the 24-hour news cycle and the nature of the internet economy have all conspired to try to keep you afraid or alarmed all the time. Here’s something I wrote in one of the devotionals in Praying Grace for Women, titled “Lighten Up”:

An inescapable electronic news and information ecosystem is designed to fuel either fear or outrage in you because everyone on the internet gets paid through clicks, pageviews, and shares. Carrying these weights in an environment of pandemics, protests, and political polarization is a prescription for the crushing of the human soul with care. Your soul.

Most of us carry around in our hands a device that keeps our nervous systems in “fight, flight, or freeze” mode all of our waking hours. Not good. And here’s another factor.

All humans come equipped with something I call an “Inner Story Teller.”

It’s rooted in our God-given imaginations. It’s our ability to vividly imagine scenarios we’ve never actually encountered, conversations we’ve never had, and a variety of futures that might, but probably won’t, unfold.

In reality, the God-given purpose of your Inner Story Teller is to produce this in you . . . Hope! Paul seems to have had this in mind when he wrote Ephesians 1:18-19:

“[I pray]. . . that the eyes of your understanding [imagination?] may be enlightened, that you may know what is the hope of His calling and what are the riches of the glory of His inheritance among the saints, and what is the surpassing greatness of His power toward us who believe…” (MEV)

But the enemy of our souls delights in getting us to turn this powerful weapon on ourselves. Instead of letting the Spirit of God help our imaginations tell us stories of the good future God has in store for us, we let the enemy hijack it and we start telling ourselves stories of catastrophe, tragedy, heartache, or rejection.

When this becomes a pattern, as it does for so many, life becomes very small. I recently came across a clip from an interview with Erwin McManus that banged the Gong of Truth for me. It’s very short. Watch it here:

Just in case you weren’t able to play it, here is a transcript of the clip:

Erwin McManus: “Fear establishes the boundaries of our freedom. So whatever you’re afraid of, that becomes your limitation. If you’re afraid of heights, you stay low. If you’re afraid of people, you stay alone. If you’re afraid of failure, you stay safe. And when you realize that fear establishes the boundaries of your freedom, the moment you press through those fears, now you have unlimited freedom.”

This is heartbreakingly true. As a result, the most fearful among us live the littlest, most constrained lives.

I know sweet people . . . people who love God and and are desperately loved by God . . . who live tiny lives because their fears have shrunk their world so comprehensively, they’re like anxious, miserable baby calves in a veal pen.

And, with fear as their “evil idiot advisor” they consistently make bad choices that produce bad outcomes.

Fear isn’t an easy habit to kick. And it is a habit—a habit of the heart and mind. Numerous scriptures reveal that fear’s “kryptonite” is love. God’s love. In practical terms, this means renewing your mind to the truth about God’s goodness and kindness toward you. And rooting your identity deeply in the reality that you are a beloved, accepted, son or daughter of God.

Now, if you’ve been a victim of profound or prolonged trauma, in order to find freedom from fear you may very well also need professional Christian therapies of the type provided the folks here. If so, go get that help!

But yes, both fear and bad values will consistently drive poor choices in your life. So, in the third and final installment, I hope to show you, to borrow Paul’s phrase, “a more excellent way.”

(a.k.a., the spirit of antichrist)

For some strange reason, I’ve thinking about “transgrssive art” today. I can’t imagine why . . . but anyway . . .

Transgressive Art is not new. It’s not good. It’s barely “art.” Those who create it think themselves oh, so “brave,” but it requires no courage at all. It’s lazy and juvenile. And again, it isn’t new, at all. In fact, you can trace the modern manifestation of it back to . . . guess where . . . Paris, France! Yep.

Ready to learn something? Let’s dive in.

First, from the Wikipedia article on “Transgressive Art“:

“Transgressive art is art that aims to outrage or violate basic morals and sensibilities . . . traces of transgression can be found in any art which is considered offensive because of its shock value . . .”

The idea of creating “art” that is specifically, consciously aimed at offending and shocking the moral sensibilities of the establishment goes back at least to the “Age of Reason” or “Age of Enlightenment” in France in the 18th century. Funny thing about that period in France, the more reason-y and enlightened the. French got, the more people tended to die on guillotines or at the hands of angry mobs.

Here in the U.S., creating art (including movies and music) designed to shock by mocking Christ and Christianity became the fast track for fame and acceptance for aspiring artists in the last half of the 20th centiry. The trend really picked up steam in concert with the Sexual Revolution and in the late 1960s.

One of the few good things about growing older is the fact that, you’ve seen some things. There is nothing new under the sun, just recycled fads. Like skinny ties and ripped up jeans, things that fell out of fashion always eventually come back into vogue.

But one thing that has never fallen out of fashion with certain segments of society in nearly 2,000 years is: mocking Jesus–the One sent as a living, dying demonstration of God’s goodness and redemptive love. Again, being a bit older means you’ve seen this movie plot before. For example . . .

Back in 1987, Ronald Reagan’s second term had all the usual suspects in all the usual places (the entertainment industry, the fashion industry, the news business, and academia) in deep distress over all the normalness and prosperity the country was enjoying.

So an american “artist”/photographer named Andres Serrano became a celebrated sensation in NYC and LA art critic circles with his “courageous, bold, and provocative” photograph titled Immersion (a.k.a. Piss Christ). Rather than show it to you here, let me just describe this “stunning and brave” piece of visual art. Serrano submerged a crucifix in a glass of his own urine and took a picture of it.

Once it began to be widely celebrated by people prone to celebrate such things, it created controversy and blowback because it offended many of us among the unwashed, philistine, masses who don’t appreciate fine art.

Of course, the controvery was the objective. If a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it . . .? And if transgressive art designed to offend the normies doesn’t offend them, then what’s the point?

Again, since the sixties it’s been clear that in the overlapping worlds of art and fashion and theater and “cinema”–the surest path to acclaim and wealth has been the path of mocking Christians and their Christ. So, lets talk about why that is, and how it relates to a couple of other trends we’re seeing right now.

The Spiritual Roots of Things

As I suggested above, the real roots of what animates displays of transgressive art actually go back nearly 2,000 years. Here’s the Apostle John in the first century:

. . . so now many antichrists have come . . . Who is the liar but he who denies that Jesus is the Christ? This is the antichrist, he who denies the Father and the Son . . . but every spirit that does not acknowledge Jesus is not from God. This is the spirit of the antichrist, which you have heard is coming and even now is already in the world. (1 John 2:18; 2:22; 4:3)

Note that “spirit of antichrist” was already loose in the world roughly 1,960 years ago. By John’s definition, a person is animated and influenced by the antichrist spirit if they oppose, deny, or mock the proclamation that Jesus was God in human flesh and the promised Messiah of Israel.

So having those around is not some recent development.

The same spirit is behind much of the other nonsense currently being jammed down the throats of the normies. As I’ve written in previous posts (see here, here, here, here, and here) Progressivism, liberalism, marxism, socialism, Occupy Wall Street-ism, the identiy politics cultists, the de-colonizers, DEI-ers, the anti-Zionists, the anti-Semites, and the rest of the left-wing smorgasbord is all rooted in a hatred of Western Civilization because Western Civ. is rooted in, and springs from, Christianity. And Christianity springs from Christ.

The antichrist spirit saturates all of it. What Transgressive Art is transgressing is the foundational assumptions and values that made Western Civilazational countries the best places to live that have ever existed on planet Earth. The U.S. first among them.

Knowing all of this means I am never shocked when people like . . . oh, say . . . French “creatives” producing the opening ceremonies of the summer Olympic Games decide to appropriate a piece of iconic Christian art. Pagans gonna pagan.

But just because I’m not surprised doesn’t mean I’m not grieved and angered when it happens . . . especially on a global stage. I get the responses I’ve seen from my brothers and sisters all over social media.

Would you like to know how I process incidents like the recent one? No? Well I’m going to tell you anyway.

Take 2 and Call Me in the Morning

And by “2” I mean Psalms chapter two. Please allow me to explain.

When you love Jesus . . . When you are unspeakably grateful to Him for pulling you out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay, and setting your feet upon a rock . . . when you have come to understand His unfathomable love for all mankind and the enormity of the sacrifice He willingly made to make all broken people–including yourself and including all the broken 2SLGBTQQ+ people mocking Da Vinci’s last supper at the opening ceremonies . . .

It’s easy to be enraged when people mock or reject Him. Believe me. I get it. I feel it. But then I try to remember two incidents in the gospels.

The first is in Luke chapter nine. There some of the disciples go in advance of Jesus’ entourage to a Samaritan village to see if they could eat and spend the night there. The villagers said no. You know the rest of the story.

When James and John saw this, they said to Jesus, “Lord, should we call down fire from heaven to burn them up?” But Jesus turned and rebuked them. So they went on to another village. (Luke 9:54-55)

In the first few verses of that same chapter we see Jesus delegating power to heal and deliver, and sending the discples out to help people and set them free. Fifty-four verses later, James and John are asking for supernatural power to kill people who have offended them by rejecting their rabbi.

The second incident occurs thirteen chapters later. In Luke 22, some Temple security guys sent by the High Priest and the Sanhedrin arrive to arrest Jesus. The disciples, who are all armed put their hands on their swords. Peter, intent on being the best at defending Jesus, whips out a knife manages to cut the ear off of one of the High Priests poor slaves. (Luke 22:49-50)

As you know, Jesus doesn’t endorse this act any more than He did the desire of James and John to inflict a horrible death upon a Samaritan village. In fact, in the final miracle of his miracle-filled ministry, he heals and restores the man.

I personally bring these incidents to the front of my mind any time I (figurately) feel myself reaching for a dagger or yearning for a firestorm after someone has rejected or insulted my wonderful Savior. Which brings me to Psalms chapter 2. It’s wonderful medicine for the offended believer’s soul.

Why do the nations conspire and the peoples plot in vain?
The kings of the earth rise up and the rulers band together against the Lord and against his anointed, saying, “Let us break their chains and throw off their shackles.” (v. 1-3)

And here’s the punch line.

The One enthroned in heaven laughs; the Lord scoffs at them. (v. 4)

Who is the Lord’s anointed in those verses? It is Jesus, of course. And by the transitive property of spiritual things, it is also His Body in the earth, the Church.

So here’s the thing. It’s probably not wise to get my soul into a angry, offended, veangeful wad about something God finds ridiculous. The rest of that Psalm makes it clear that the Father and the Son have things well in hand. And that the kings of the earth–this world system’s “elite”–will one day really regret having insulted the King. But, in love, that King died so that they, too, might have abundant Life.

We don’t have to long for revenge on them. But it is vital to refuse to bow to their idols . . .

What Takes Courage?

Let me close by circling back to “Transgressive Art” . . . art designed to shock the sensibilities of the establishment. What now makes it absurd is that the transgressors ARE the establishment. They’ve won (for now).

The hippies and cultural marxists and sexual revolutionaries of the sixties now run all of the foundational institutions of our society. There is nothing brave or revolutionary about making a statement that will be applauded by all the people that “matter.”

Want to show me some artistic courage? Mock Mohammad and Islam on a global stage. Then you’ll deserve a tip of the cap for your bravery.

Update to the Original Post:

I wrote the post above in response to a lot of social media and news media chatter about the opening ceremony of the Olympics. Every word still stands and remains applicable. And the general topic of the post was “Transgressive Art” and why we Christians shouldn’t get too worked up about it. But some additonal relevant information is now being circulated in the same channels that needs to be addressed.

Many are now pointing out–some in a needlessly snarky and derisive way–that the Olympic tableau that pretty much everyone, all over the world, (including the AP) instantly read as a Trans-filled take on DaVinci’s iconic “The Last Supper” was actually a Trans-filled take on “The Feast of the Gods” by Jan Hermansz van Bijlert (a.d. 1597–1671).

So, here’s the interesting thing about that.

Bijlert lived and painted roughly 100 years after Leonardo da Vinci. He studied in Italy and France and it is unthinkable that Bijlert would not have been familiar with LdV’s “The Last Supper.” The similarities in composition between to the two paintings are so striking, it seems extremely likely that Bijlert was intentionally appropriating LdV’s already-famous masterpiece and replacing Jesus and the disciples with pagan gods and goddesses. As I noted above: “Pagans gonna pagan.”

In other words, “The Feast of the Gods” is itself, a work of transgressive art. (I told you there is nothing new about this!) And it also seems likely that the artistic director of the show, Thomas Jolly, was very aware of the visual connection between the two paintings. Why is that likely?

Well, according to the official program of the opening ceremonies, the name of that segment of the show was: “La Cène Sur Un Scène Sur La Seine,” i.e. “The Last Supper on a Stage on the Seine.” hmmmm

So all the points I made above still stand. And the “Feast of the Gods” thing may not quite be the “gotcha” many people seem to think it is.

I know a couple who keep buying bad houses. They house shop exhaustively but the ones they end up choosing turn out to be money pits. Similarly, I know some women who keep making disastrous choices in spouses or boyfriends. And guys who pick the wrong woman . . . every, single, time. And other sweet people who keep taking the wrong job offer. And others who go from one financial crisis to the next. They all have something in common . . .

Their “chooser” is broken.

Or at least it’s broken in one area of their lives. I’m not judging or throwing stones. I’ve had a broken chooser myself. And mine still needs repair and maintenance from time to time.

Having a well-functioning chooser is a pretty important thing for building a good life. We make hundreds of choices each day. Sure, most aren’t all that inconsequential. “Cup or cone?” “Curly fries or regular?” “White sneakers or blue ones?” But in the aggregate each of our lives is really just the product of the past choices we’ve made. As John Maxwell has said:

“Life is a matter of choices, and every choice you make makes you.”

John Maxwell

I’m neither a pschologist nor a therapist. But I am a certified life coach (among a half-dozen other hats in my wardrobe) so I have a keen interest in helping people create a better life–a brighter future–by helping them fix their choosers. So if your life stinks, or if in just one area of your life you consistently get bad outcomes, maybe you need to fix your chooser. So here’s the thing. Your choices are largely driven by two things:

1. What you value.
2. What you fear.

If those two propositions are true–and I believe if you’ll stay with me you’ll see that they are–then you can start getting better outcomes from your choices simply by making adjustments to what you value and what you’re afraid of. Let’s start with proposition number one.

Exposing Your Hidden Values

When I use the term “values,” I’m not talking about morals or standards. I’m talking about what you literally hold to be valuable. What you view to be important. What you believe, in your heart of hearts, will make you happy. When you face a choice, you, very logically, make that choice based on what you “value” most highly.

Early on in my years of working in the world of marketing communications I discovered something shocking: There is often a big difference between what we claim we value and what we actually value. What we truly value drives how we decide or choose. But here’s the thing . . . what we say we value isn’t always the truth about what we actually value. And often, we’re not even honest with ourselves about what we value.

Twenty-five years ago a major household goods conglomerate commissioned a mountain of research about what women wanted in a laundry detergent. Their research data revealed that an overwhelming majority of women said “environmental friendliness” was “very important” to them. And that they would definitely be inclined to purchase a detergent that was low in phosphates– something that had been shown to have negative impacts on the environment.

Well, they lied. Okay . . . “Lied” is a strong term. But the corporation believed their resarch results and came out with a line of clean, low phosphate detergents. And they didn’t sell. At all. They could hardly give them away.

As it turned out, what the big majority of people who purchased laundry detergent (women, overwhelmingly) truly “valued” was having clothes and sheets that smell nice. And those “clean” laundry detergents didn’t leave their loads smelling like anything at all. When filling out a consumer survey, they wanted to seem virtuous so they said they valued environmental impact, but that wasn’t the true value driving the decision.

The people who make that decision revealed, through their choices, what they really valued. Namely, having clothes that smell good. The true value was fragrance. And that value was revealed when it came time to part with hard-earned money at the store.

Here’s another example from the world of ministry fundraising. If you ask 10,000 Christians if it is “very important” to support evangelism, that is, the proclamation of the Gospel, 10,000 of them will answer “Yes!” “Amen!” “Absolutely!” “Very important!” Then, if you were to subpoena their bank records of those 10,000 Christians guess what you would find in terms of their charitable giving? How many of those 10k believers will have spent a single dollar over the previous year in the cause of delivering the Gospel to lost people? (Spoiler Alert: Less than 10,000. Way, way less.)

Often, our real values don’t exactly align with the values we know we believe we should have. And in most contexts our money-spending “chooser” faithfully reflects our authentic values. But, again, we don’t just make money decisions. We also make job decisions. Relationship decisions. And wide array of other “life” decisions.” Every day.

So, something similar is true for all of us in all areas of decision making. We know what we ought to value. But then there is what we really value. And it is that true value is that drives our decisions. We are ruthlessly logical and consistent. We repeatedly choose in logical harmony with what we really, truly think we want and need.

The problem is that what we we want is often NOT what will really make us happy or produce a good life outcome. Here’s a common example.

Image-Driven Decision Making

I have abundant personal experience with this one. It has always been tempting to place high value on how we are perceived by other people. In other words . . . “image.” Even if we won’t admit it, most of us care deeply about what other people think about us. Men, in general, want to be admired by other men and want to be seen as “winning” in the competition called life. Women, in general, want to be envied by other women. They, too, want to “win.” In both the masculine and feminine contexts “status” is the true value.

In earlier seasons of my life I made many decisions driven by image considerations and my need to feel significant in the eyes of others. Insecure me, cared deeply . . . too deeply . . . about how I was perceived by other people. So the value of “image” drove decisions about how to spend my money, what car to drive, where to work, or even who to date.

Dating? Oh yeah. Sadly, in my early single years numerous choices of relationship were driven primarily by what the girl on my arm said about ME. I’m not proud of it, but I would sometimes go after the girl that my friends would be impressed by if I got her to go out with me, rather than courting the girl I was genuinely attracted to in terms of looks and personality. That wasn’t fair to anyone, myself included, but especially the girl.

(Thankfully, by the time I met my bride in the back half of my twenties, I’d grown up enough to stop that nonsense. And yet she was still stunning and funny and in every way the ideal life-companion. But my decision to pursue her was rooted in much higher values than just insecure pride, competitivness, and show-off-ery. She was what my authentic self truly wanted and needed .)

All we broken, fallen humans have one under-appreciated superpower. I’m talking about the power to rationalize. We have the extraordinary ability to convince ourselves that the thing our mis-programmed choosers want is precisely what we should have. We all have a slick inner salesman who is brilliant at crafting a logical case for choosing “the thing”–however destructive or disastrous it may be.

The inner voice whispering, “Hey, you deserve this!” has led to more bad decisions than doing tequila shots.

Again, at some point I grew up spiritually and emotionally enough to realize that my image-driven decisions never produced good outcomes in any area of my life. And becoming a husband and father made making good decisions even more critical. At that point, a boneheaded choice didn’t just affect me. If I “chose poorly” it wasn’t just my life that was impacted. A sweet woman and three adorable, trustling little girls took the hit, too.

And “image” is far from the only low consideration that can inform our values. But it’s a common one. (Safety is another. I’ll deal with it in Part 2 of this post.)

Eventually, I figured out that my values drove my “chooser.” So, let me reveal one of the most powerful things I did to clarify what I should value in order to get consistently better outcomes. I learned to ask a key clarifying question . . .

I was in my mid-30s. My 40th birthday wasn’t exactly imminent, but it was a visible, growing speck on the horizon. At this point in my life, I was starting to get an understanding of the truth I’m trying to convey in this post. Namely, that I consisently made choices based on what I valued, and if I wanted a better life for myself and the people depending on me, I was going to have to “upgrade my values.”

So one day I sat down with a legal pad and a pen and put this question at the top of the page . . .

What Makes Life Good?

Then I paused, prayed, and then with gut-level honesty looked back across the previous few years and searched for moments and seasons of true joy, peace, and sweetness. Then I began to make a list, answering that question. I wrote, “What makes life good is . . .”

1. Laying on the floor with my kids climbing on me like I’m some sort of interactive jungle gym.
2. Having peace in our marriage and the abcense of conflict in our home.
3. Feeling trusted by my sweet bride.
4. Not having financial pressure.
5. Bike rides through nice scenery in mild weather.
6. Having meaningful work to do that accessing my highest skills and talents.
7. etc.

I filled two entire pages with the things that I knew in my heart produced authentic happiness and joy in me. Then I took a mental step back and studied that list. Here’s what I discovered:

First, only one of the things on the list had anything to do with money. All the others came with the a price tag of $0.

Secondly, NONE of the things that truly, authentically contributed to making my life good involved impressing anyone else, or being envied, or displaying status. Not one.

Thirdly, the one item on the list that did relate to money–“Not having financial pressure”–was a coin with two sides. What I mean is, there are two ways to not have finincial pressure. One is to make more money. The other is to spend less money. I knew the former path–making more–wasn’t always within my control. But reducing our spending so that we are living within our means was entirely something we could control.

What’s more, I’d discovered that, without intentional steps to live within our means, making more money only resulted in more spending. Financial pressure continued no matter how high our household income rose. And guess what tends to result in excessive spending?

Trying to impress other people. There is a gut-punch of truth in the old saying,

We spend money we don’t have to buy things we don’t need to impress people we don’t like.

What that exercise did was give me a roadmap for ungrading what I valued. And it seemed clear to me, that if I replaced any flawed values that were driving poor choices that produced negative outcomes; with valuing things that reliably produced goodness and sweetness in my life, my “chooser” would be repaired.

And I was right. Consciously, prayerfully shifting what I valued shifted my choices. 

Image vs Quality-of-Life

I can say with reasonable confidence that I’ve never once made a good image-driven or status-driven decision. So is there a better alternative to using image and status-enhancement as a goal? I’m glad you asked.

Yes! A far better target is “quality of life.”

This statement will be a controversial statement in some church circles but (and this is my “I don’t care face”) . . . God wants you to have a good life.

Not an easy life. Not a perecution-free life. Not a trouble-free life. A good life. It was no less a reliable source than Jesus who said that He’d come that we might have abundant zoe life. (John 10:10) He also invited us all to come to Him if we’re worn out or weighed down because with Him we’d find rest for our souls. (Matthew 11:28) He called himself the “Good Shepherd” and the 23rd psalm gives us a great picture of what being under the protection of a good shepherd looks like.

That means the believer can and should remove “image” and striving for “status” from the values that drive our decisions. A good replacement for them is: “quality of life.” And “quality of life” values are rooted in your personal “what makes life good” list.

The believer is back in the Garden. Jesus opened the way back to the Tree of Life. So, the life of the Christian should be filled with meaning and purpose and peace and provision and upward progress. Of course, that progress will require periodic spiritual fights and battles against the the King’s enemy as he or she takes new ground.

But fighting to take ground against the King’s enemies (which become, by default, your enemies the moment you are baptized into Him) is a much different thing than struggling and striving to look “significant” in the eyes of others.

Here’s another important point . . .

Replacing “image” with “quality of life” as a driver for decisions can and does still result in having nice things and nice experiences (when such things are truly affordable.) For example, if you have a growing family, buying a bigger house in a better of neighorhood can make perfecdt sense with “quality of life” as the driving value. From the outside, the decision to buy that house can look like an image-driven decision. But when driven by “quality of life,” the decision to acquire those things and have those expeiriences is a better, higher decision and therefore invariably produces a better outcome.

Buying things you can’t afford leads only to stress and misery. That’s the opposite of “quality of life.”

The same is true of other decisions rooted in the wrong values. They produce heartache and stress and regret. So, how does one go about evaluating the values that lay beneath our decisions?

Joy and Gratitude: Your Guides to Upgrading Your Values

What brings you deep, authentic joy? What is going on in the moments in which you feel a wave of gratitude wash over you? When do feel “in the zone” or in a state of “flow.” Being mindful and aware of where you are and what you’re experiencing in those moments, and then comparing the answers to what seems to be driving your choices, is a related way of determining whether you must might be valuing the wrong things.

Going through life desperate to be envied is a very low way to live. And it’s a prescription for making a stream of bad choices with unhappy outcomes.

Upgrading your values will have a HUGE impact on the quality of your decisions. But low, flawed values isn’t the only thing causing a lot of “choosers” to be broken. In Part 2 of this post, we’ll explore another common issue . . .

Fear: The Other Factor

Coming soon!

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love (1 John 4:18, NIV).

Notice this phrase from the verse above: “… because fear has to do with punishment.” 

Pastors and parents raising children have something in common: Both are responsible for training a group of people.

Parents instinctively use fear as a training tool for very small children. Curious little ones must be taught to avoid fascinating open flames, beckoning electrical outlets, and the strange but friendly-looking dog on the other side of the busy street. As children get older, most parents continue to utilize the tool of fear to encourage good choices, but only because we want the best for our kids. We love them and want them to live great lives and become happy, productive adults. 

Similarly, pastors love their flocks. They, too, want to see those under their care making good choices, doing all the “oughts” and avoiding all the “ought nots.” So many present God as harsh and hard to please. They keep the sword of negative consequences dangling over the heads of the congregation.

Frankly, this is precisely why many well-meaning pastors resist the full implications of New Covenant grace. In spite of all that the Gospel of Grace reveals about rest and ceasing from our works, many continue to present the fear-sprinkled gospel of, “Do good. Get good. Do bad. Get bad.” They are terrified of letting go of the stick of “fear” to keep people doing “the right thing.”  

The great Scottish theologian Alexander MacLaren understood this tendency to portray God as angry in order to instill fear. Thus, he wrote:

“The love which casts out fear is not the result of a person’s willpower to put away hatred and indifference. It is not about choosing to position oneself toward God and His mercy. The love which casts out fear does so because we have no part to play in it except to open our eyes and see that God has no anger—but rather is perfect, and absolute, and infinite Love.”  

Alexander MacLaren

Pray this: “Father, Your extraordinary grace and unfathomable love are transforming me into the person I always wanted to be, but could never become under the “stick of fear.” It is Your kindness that leads me to repentance. Your perfect love has driven out my fear.”

The first observable evidence of mankind’s Fall was the presence of shame. It manifested in the first couple’s fear-soaked shrinking from the presence of God. The sound of His footfalls had only the previous day filled their hearts with joy and caused them to come running to meet them in glad anticipation. Now His footsteps filled them with dread.

Father God had not changed. But they had.

“I was afraid.” 

“Because I was naked.”

“And I hid myself.” 

Shame had wrapped its filthy tentacles around their souls. So, the first couple hastily contrived some Man-conceived, Man-crafted way to cover that shame. Religion was born. And over the subsequent millennia the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve would devise ever more clever and sophisticated ways to try to cover that shame. But “cover” was the best they could do. 

In the Old Testament we find two key Hebrew words for shame—but these words communicate two very different concepts. The word bosheth connotes the guilt and dishonor we experience when our sin is exposed. Daniel used this word when he said, “”Righteousness belongs to You, O Lord, but to us, open shame . . .“^[1] It is bosheth, in part, that drove Adam and Eve to flee the presence of God. And every person alive has felt its sting.

There is another Hebrew word for a very different type of pain—one that is also usually translated “shame” or “ashamed” in our English Bibles. It is kalam and it speaks of being hurt, rejected, insulted, disgraced, defiled or humiliated—sometimes in public and particularly by someone close to you. To understand the concept of kalam, all you have to do is read Numbers 12:14—a verse that contains this Hebrew term.

And the LORD said unto Moses, If her father had but spit in her face, should she not be ashamed seven days . . . ?

Numbers 12:14

This is kalam—a man spitting in his own daughter’s face. Imagine a lovely Israelite girl being brought before the elders of her tribe for some perceived violation of community standards. It’s all a misunderstanding. She has done nothing wrong. But with the entire village watching, her angry and embarrased father does not rise to her defense. He does not step between her and the pointing fingers. Instead he walks up to her and spits in her face. Her face flushes red and tears fill her eyes.

What she feels in that moment is kalam.

We know the shame of the other type—bosheth—well. It’s that sense of uncleanness we feel when we sin—when we violate God’s immutable laws—resulting in damage to ourselves or others. It’s close companion is our English word guilt.

But we all are far, far too familiar with that second type of shame, as well. We are intimately acquainted with that humiliating sense of defilement and worthlessness we feel when others use or abuse us. Every wife who has felt the fist of a drunken husband knows this shame. So does every victim of rape. Every violated little boy or girl knows it, too. Every girl ever pressured by a parent or a boyfriend to abort the growing new life within them. Every man who has endured the sucker-punch of learning from a friend about his wife’s infidelity has felt it. 

This was your fault, the enemy whispers. You provoked this. You deserved this. You’re not worth any more than this. 

And to the post-Edenic soul . . . to the heart that has not been to Calvary to make the great exchange and seen the price God was willing to pay to reclaim it . . . these lies seem to carry the sickening ring of truth. 

Put simply, we feel the first shame when we hurt someone else. We feel the second when someone hurts us. And the very history of the human race since the fall is little more than these two forms of shame dancing across the ravaged souls of men and women. Abusing and being abused. Defiling and being defiled. 

Hurt people hurting people.  

All of this Jesus carried with Him to the cross. All of it.

With this awful truth in mind, look with fresh eyes at the word of Hebrews 12:2:  “Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

When Jesus looked ahead to the cross, He didn’t see pain. He saw unspeakable shame. Our shame—both bosheth and kalam—being heaped upon Himself in almost infinite measure. Only looking beyond that shame to the joy of being “the firstborn of many brethren” could propel Him forward in obedience into that filth.   

Oh, what shame–kalam and bosheth–Jesus bore on that Good Friday. Over and over they spit in His face during that mockery of a trial. He was stripped naked and hung like a billboard just outside one of Jerusalem’s busy gates. And in the unseen realm the blood-guiltiness of every sinner was laid upon His pristine conscience.  

One of the great wonders of the cross is that Jesus did more than bear our sin. He bore the first great consequence of sin . . our shame.  No matter what we’ve done or what has been done to us, we are invited to come to the cross and leave our shame there. At the cross our consciences are sprinkled clean. Our defilements are washed away.

In one of the most astonishing of exchanges ever proposed, we are invited to trade our shame . . . all of it . . . for His glory. No wonder Revelation shows us Jeus enthroned in that glory declaring:

“Behold, I make all things new.”

It’s been a while since I did an interview edition of the podcast and I’m so happy about this one. It’s a conversation with Sarah and Isabell Bowling about their new book, The Road to Wholeness: Healing from Trauma. It’s a potentially heavy subject, but we keep things light and positive yet redemptive.

Give it a listen when you’re on the treadmill or doing your commute thing. The New and Better Podcast is available on all the major podcast platforms. The podcasts home page is here.

You bet we’re flying the flag today. And feeling deep gratitude for so many things about this nation, it’s people, and its journey through history.

And as I think, with gratitude, about those who in the past were willing to put themselves in harms way to protect it or advance its vital interests, I can’t help but wonder if there will be many willing to do that in the days ahead.

Especially since both extremes of the political spectrum seem determined to convince our youngest generations that it’s not worth defending.

One end contends it never was. The other end, that it is now too far gone. I think both are very wrong.

For past thoughts along these lines, see these blog posts:

Here. Here. And Here.

Last words are important words. When in Acts 20, Paul summoned the elders of the church in Ephesus, he assumed it was the last time he would ever have a chance to impart instruction, doctrine, and encouragement to them. So please note what he said to them in closing:

And so now, I entrust you into God’s hands and THE MESSAGE OF HIS GRACE, which is ALL THAT YOU NEED TO BECOME STRONG. ALL OF GOD’S BLESSINGS are imparted THROUGH THE MESSAGE OF HIS GRACE, which he provides as the spiritual inheritance given to all of his holy ones.

Acts 20:32 TPT

This, friend, is why I’m always hammering away about Grace versus the Law. The Tree of Life versus that other tree. Resting in Jesus’ finished work versus striving to earn, merit, and qualify. The New Covenant versus the old.

It’s everything. It’s the key. It’s the good news . . . the Gospel . . . and I am not ashamed of it.

I’ve been thinking about hope a lot the last few days. My sense is that we undervalue the power and role of hope in bringing miracles to pass. Among the big three, “faith” and “love” get all the attention.

But the Bible has a lot to say about hope.

–Romans 5:5 says, “Hope does not disappoint.”

–Psalms 34:5 says to God, “Those who hope in You will never be put to shame.”

–Romans 4:18 tells us: “Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations . . .”

Want a biblical picture of hope? In Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son, He says the father saw his wayward son headed home when the boy was still far off.

That means he was sitting on the porch, scanning the horizon.

At rest. But expectant.

My sense is that many Christians, in attempt to protect their hearts from disappointment, have stopped hoping. Stopped expecting much.

I suppose it’s true that if you keep your expectations low, you suffer fewer disappointments. But I can’t believe that that is the way we’re called to live our lives in God.

As for me and my house, we’ll get our hopes up and keep them there. If we experience disappointment, we’ll trust God with the mystery.

NOTE: The following is a chapter from my Kindle e-book titled “Jesus Said What Now? The Most Mysterious Sayings and Doings of Jesus—Decoded.“

Hey friend, a big piece of a biblical puzzle is about to fall into place for you. Ready?

The “Jesus” revealed in the Gospels is generally gentle and kind … kind to strangers, kind to children, patient with sinners, the teller of stories about birds and flowers and lost sheep and prodigal sons. That’s the Jesus we see so consistently throughout Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

Which means most of us don’t know what to do with the angry, violent Jesus of Mark 11. You know, the Jesus who fashioned a whip out of leather straps and went on a table-flipping rampage through the outer court of the Temple around the time of Passover. What was that about? Well, there is an answer to that question that may surprise you. And it’s not what most of us have been taught. Or at least there is a big missing piece of the puzzle.

The account of Jesus “cleansing the Temple” is recorded in all four gospels. You can’t say that about many of the events in Jesus’ ministry. So, it must be pretty important. Let’s examine Mark’s account of the incident—which occurred in the opening days of the Passover week—verse by verse.

First a little context. Jesus has just had His “Palm Sunday Triumphal Entry” into Jerusalem where He fulfilled prophecy by entering the city gates on the back of a donkey and throngs of people hailed Him as the Messiah. Then:

And Jesus entered Jerusalem and came into the temple area; and after looking around at everything, He left for Bethany with the twelve, since it was already late.

(Mark 11:11 NASB)

Okay, this is very interesting. It’s late in the day. Jesus walks into the Temple complex. Mark said He was “looking around at everything.” And then Jesus heads back out of the city to spend the night in Bethany. Got it? Then He returns the next morning with the disciples. So let’s pick up the story in verse 15:

So they came to Jerusalem. Then Jesus went into the temple and began to drive out those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. And He would not allow anyone to carry wares through the temple. Then He taught, saying to them, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it a ‘den of thieves.’”

(NKJV)

Okay, let’s establish a little more context here. According to the book of John, Jesus attended the Passover festival observances in all three years of His ministry. And Matthew, Mark, and Luke all make it clear that this particular Passover is His final one—the one that will lead to His arrest, trial, and crucifixion.

So, if this is His third Passover in Jerusalem since launching his ministry, why not get upset about the money changers on any of those previous visits to the Temple? Or any of the other times He’d visited the Temple during the great feasts and festivals? We’re about to find out! The key to solving the mystery is in what Jesus Himself said in explanation of His violent actions.

But first, you need to understand the role of merchants and money changers at the Temple during the major feasts.

For centuries, Jews had been scattered across the Near East and around the vast Mediterranean Sea. Many Jewish pilgrims traveled hundreds of miles to attend the spring and fall festivals. And it was impractical to try to bring animals for sacrifice and offering on those long journeys. You try dragging some sheep, goats, or birds to Jerusalem from Spain, North Africa, or Persia using First Century modes of travel. Not really an option. So Temple officials arranged for festival pilgrims to be able to purchase animals once they arrived. Thus, the merchants selling doves, goats, and other items near the Temple Mount. But there was another issue.

Citizens of the vast Roman Empire carried Roman coins. And as Jesus pointed out to a group of questioners one day, Roman coins carried an engraved image of the Roman Emperor, who was worshipped by Gentiles as a demigod throughout the empire. The Jewish leaders of that day had determined that it was a violation of the Second Commandment (no graven images) to use Roman coins to buy animals to be sacrificed in the heart of the Temple complex. So, they created a solution for this problem as well. They allowed currency exchange booths to be set up near the animal vendors so people could make their animal purchases in shekels. This is how both merchants (animal sellers) and money changers became a part of the Temple Mount scene whenever there was a major observance like Passover. Are you tracking?

Secondly, you need to understand the layout of Herod’s Temple.

The Temple Jesus knew and visited frequently contained four separate “courts” … arranged from outermost to innermost. Entering the Temple’s outermost gate put you in the Court of the Gentiles, the only place on the holy hill where Gentiles could set foot. One step closer to the holy heart of the Temple complex was the Court of the Women, where ceremonially clean Jewish women were allowed to gather. This is as close as any Jewish woman was allowed to get to the Holy of Holies where God’s presence was said to dwell. One layer deeper into the complex brought you to the Court of Israel (also called the Court of Men). Here, ceremonially clean Jewish men could stand just outside an even deeper level—the Court of Priests where the Levites carried out their sacred duties.

Here’s the relevant question: Why have a “Court of the Gentiles” at a Jewish Temple? They built one because throughout the Old Testament period and throughout God’s dealings with Israel, God had made it clear that He wanted to bless and reach the Gentiles through His relationship with Israel.

From the very beginning, when God told Abram that He was going to make him a great nation, He mentioned that through his seed “all the nations of the earth would be blessed.” Note that term “the nations.” Almost every time you see it in the Bible, it’s referring to the Gentile peoples throughout the earth. Through numerous directives, prophecies, and psalms, God made it clear that part of Israel’s role in the earth was to be a light to the Gentiles. THAT’S why there was a “Court of the Gentiles” on the Temple Mount. God wanted “God-fearing” Gentiles to be able to draw near to pray … as a small down payment on the day the Messiah would come and make a way for both Jews and Gentiles to have direct access to His presence. Until that day, the Court of the Gentiles would serve as the one place on earth a Gentile could get close to the Presence of God and pray. BUT …

By Jesus’ day, something had changed.

The Pharisees’ power and influence had risen. And the Pharisees considered it defiling to even have to be in close proximity to a Gentile. They were considered lower than dogs. Several of Jesus’ parables aimed at the Pharisees reference this revulsion. In the eyes of the Pharisees, the presence of Gentile pray-ers on God’s holy hill was as offensive as having pigs or dogs roaming around on the Temple Mount. Having to walk past Gentiles to get to the Court of Men was just too much.

So, at some recent point, the Pharisees had successfully lobbied to have the currency exchange booths and sacrificial animal sellers moved farther up the hill to the Court of the Gentiles, effectively crowding the Gentiles out of their designated space. It’s possible they had even been banned from setting foot in the Temple complex altogether.

Adding to this violation of God’s designated design, the money changers and the sellers apparently were corrupt and cheating the pilgrims. The former were offering sketchy exchange rates. The latter were overcharging the poor for the doves the law required them to purchase if they could not afford a lamb or a goat.

Armed with all that architectural and cultural context, let’s return to Mark’s narrative of Jesus’ table-flipping spree. There is a detail in verse 11 that I’ve never heard anyone mention when preaching or teaching on this passage. Let’s look at it again:

And Jesus entered Jerusalem and came into the temple area; AND AFTER LOOKING AROUND AT EVERYTHING, He left for Bethany with the twelve, since it was already late.

(Mark 11:11 NASB, emphasis added)

Jesus’ actions when He returned the next day were not some impulsive, emotional, spur-of-the-moment reaction. Jesus was not suddenly triggered by what He saw there and just … snapped. No, Jesus had inspected the Temple complex the previous evening and, because it was late in the day, with the merchants and money changers likely packing up before sunset, Jesus left and returned to Mary and Martha’s place in Bethany.

What Jesus did the next morning was calculated and fully authorized by His heavenly Father. Remember, Jesus once said that I only do those things that I see my heavenly Father doing. John’s account adds the detail that Jesus took the time, probably that night, to fashion and weave together a multi-thonged whip out of leather strips. That was no quick process. Cutting and weaving a cat of nine tails out of leather gives a man time to think. And pray. And plan.

That next morning, He walked back into the Temple complex, whip in hand, and proceeded to do what we’ve all read and heard about many times. But why? My socialist friends love this passage because Jesus seems to be making an anti-capitalist statement by attacking both merchants and bankers. But is that the real takeaway here?

The answer lies in Jesus’ statement of explanation. After arriving at the Court of the Gentiles and again finding it NOT filled with God-fearing Gentiles seeking to pray as close as possible to the Presence of God, but rather finding it filled with corrupt merchants overcharging the poor and predatory money converters, Jesus drove them all out of the square and then, when challenged about it by the authorities, asked this question:

“Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called A HOUSE OF PRAYER FOR ALL NATIONS?’ But you have made it a ‘den of thieves.’”

(Mark 11:17, NKJV emphasis added)

Jesus basically asked them if they’d read Isaiah 56:6–7, which in the NIV says:

“And foreigners who bind themselves to the Lord to minister to him, to love the name of the Lord, and to be his servants, all who keep the Sabbath without desecrating it and who hold fast to my covenant—these I will bring to my holy mountain and give them joy in my house of prayer. Their burnt offerings and sacrifices will be accepted on my altar; for my house will be called a house of prayer for all nations.”

(emphasis added)

Of course, the leaders and Pharisees had read it. They just didn’t like it. But Jesus knew what they did not. Namely, that He was only days away from laying Himself down on a cross to make it possible for people of every nation, tribe, color, and tongue to have direct access to His heavenly Father. That He was about to endure unspeakable suffering to provide that access. And that as He would cry out from the cross, “It is Finished,” the thick veil that symbolically separated all humans (except the High Priest) from the Presence of their Father Creator would be torn completely in half.

What’s the takeaway for you and me here?

Well, first, Jesus’ intensity at this moment shouldn’t be a surprise. He knew what we now know. That the “God who so loved the world” always intended to include the Gentiles in His plan of redemption. And excluding them from access for the sake of accommodating swindlers and hucksters was deeply, deeply offensive. The Pharisees and the religious leaders running the Temple were guilty of losing sight of the plot of why He had created the Jewish people. And in both action and words, Jesus delivered an indictment that said so in unmistakable terms.

So, let’s keep God’s white-hot love for lost mankind always in mind. God loves people. And in the form of God the Son became one of us to seek and save that which was lost. He’s passionate about that. Let’s share His passion.

Get the full e-book here.