Economic Crisis, Being Needy, & Maslow

Its amazing what happens to your world view when luxury is stripped out of the equation. While prosperous times are by no means a bad thing, for they certainly are a part of life’s seasons, they can however begin to blur the lines between necessity and vanity, what we want, and what we truly need.

The current economic “crisis” is doing quite an effective job of delineating between need and want, and is yielding embarrassing (but not surprising) results about our value system. There is of course no shortage of stomach churning news about how bad things are economically, and how bad they are expected to get, but worst of all is seeing the resulting impact of improperly defined need. It is pathetic if a person would go so far as to fake their own death, to avoid the facing the reality of falling short of their financial aspirations (see also: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/13/us/13plane.html ).

As much as we may try, it’s hard to not muddle need & desire; sometimes we want things so desperately and so deeply that they really feel like “needs”. When we stop thinking about day to day life in terms of mere survival, we begin to inflate the value of things we can otherwise do without. Below is Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs, which was basically a psychological construct that ranks categorically what we as people need most and how we our priorities in terms of need dictate our world view. The bottom reflects the most essential things to life (need), the higher you go on the pyramid, the less dire the need is. What you may find, is that we all probably have inverted this structure in some major ways.

Something I’ve had reaffirmed over the past few months, is that my needs are quite simple, but slightly different that Maslow’s structure. My foundation starts with Salvation, above all I need Jesus, I need the presence and constant hand of my savior in my life. God is the gatekeeper to all my other needs, salvation yields confident reliance that all my needs will be met, and that all I really “need” is a healed and contrite heart. Only through an honest realization of my true depravity can I grasp my real need for a savior. When we begin to take seriously how incapable we are to handle even the marginal things independently, we can firmly attest all the more to how desperate our need really is to be saved.

The strange contortion of it all is that the more I realize that I NEED Christ, the more I truly and deeply WANT his intercession into every waking moment of my day. My need for God is self perpetuating; I need him more each day. I’m not sure what happens to the shape of the above pyramid when need and want coincide in Christ, however, I am confident that the need/desire for Christ becomes all consuming and the singular focus of all our efforts. The best part is that when we throw away Maslow’s construction, and transition to compete reliance on Christ, we end up never NEEDING and never WANTING anything more that we have, Christ is sufficient.

I would imagine that the hierarchy goes from a 2 dimensional triangle to a three dimensional sphere. Sphere’s have total balance, and if Christ is our singular focus he is all we need and he is all we want. When Christ is what we want, we never need any thing more.

Needily Yours,
CP
http://Chrispanoff.blogspot.com

Thy Sea is so Great

It’s interesting to me how God can use circumstance and/or coincidence to remind us of his constant hand in our lives. A friend of mine says it like this, “Coincidence is God’s fingerprints on our lives.” It couldn’t be more true, and it couldn’t be more real. Attentiveness to God in all of our circumstances and through all of our coincidences opens new doors to engaging our heavenly father, and when we become students of our surroundings there is much to learn about the workings and caring manner which God walks with us and protects us.

I guess it might go without saying that this particular posting is actually a derivative of a journal writing I wrote a little more than three years ago. In a fortunate collision of some current circumstance and reminiscence, I was drawn back to re-read an entry that marked a point of revelation in the way I viewed God, especially as it pertains to how I view myself in relationship with God.

When John F. Kennedy was President, he kept a wooden placard on his desk in the oval office. The placard was given to him by Admiral Hyman Rickover, a naval commander credited with being the father of the nuclear navy, a man whom my grandfather personally knew and worked closely with for much of his professional life. It wasn’t until about three years ago that I had any idea that such a ornament existed, but the words engraved upon the simple token of appreciation gifted to President Kennedy struck my with a level of profound depth for which I am increasingly grateful. Their proverbial wisdom has reminded me often of the foundation in which I am grounded.

The little wooden plaque bore a humble appearance but at least to me it seemed to carry a profound weight. On it was engraved this, the Breton Fisherman’s Prayer, which reads.

“O God, Thy sea is so great, and my boat is so small.”

Oddly, I only this week found out that my grandfather was given the same plaque by Admiral Rickover. I can only wonder if the wisdom of the engraving ever meant anything to him…but the mystery only serves to open my heart and mind to the possibility of how big God really is…coincidence, fingerprints, God’s hand.

Sometimes the smallest of seeds sprout the biggest of trees, and for me this simple prayer, this simple statement of faith caught me at a time when I desperately needed to not only hear its truth, but practice its wisdom. The poignancy was like a stiff jab that caught me across the chin, and so now years later the tiny seed has sunk its roots deep, and the Breton prayer is a regular keepsake that I am reminded of when my life is experiencing rough seas and I’m not so sure my small boat can make it.

Three years ago when I first saw the prayer, I was at a place where it felt that just about everything was falling apart around me, it seemed that no matter how hard I tried, nothing, absolutely nothing, turned out as planned. I was straining at the oars, desperately trying to go my own direction, when clearly God had other things in store, instead of steering me out of the storm, he wanted me in it. It was as if I had boarded the wrong train and had fallen asleep, only to wake up at the end of the line, miles from where I wanted to be, stranded with no clue how to get home. God taught me volumes through that challenging phase, and through it he certainly helped my faith become much more “seafaring”, and much more capable to weather the future storms that inevitably came (…and continue to come).

Our circumstances do much to ready us for what God’s doing, whether they be good or bad, circumstance frames in context the way we see and seek God. Circumstances can be the difference between a seed that sprouts, and the seed that withers in the sun. Circumstance is the preparation of the canvas by a masterful artist.

In embracing the Breton Prayer, we rightfully surrender ourselves to the sea, knowing that however big out boats may be, that in fact, they are quite small. And we rightfully acknowledge God as the owner and master of us, our boats, and all that is in, above, below and beyond the sea. We cast sail, trusting simply and completely in nothing more and nothing less than God’s promised provision and care over us. And in the moments when seas get rough, we can confidently sail on knowing that no single thing governs Gods gracious tide more than his abounding love for us…and whether by storms or by the peace of a still sea, all we know and all we see are rightfully his to command.

When I was a boy, my father and I would go on adventures together, he would often take me places or have me do things that at the time were utterly terrifying. When I lacked the will to go further, I was left no choice but to resist my Father’s seemingly reckless behavior. I remember so clearly my Dad asking me at these moments “Do you trust me?”, often the answer in my head was “NO!”, but I knew in some way that my Dad had only the best intentions for me, and would never put me in harm’s way if there was not a greater benefit. Looking back on some of those terrifying moments, it just so happens they are some of my fondest memories with my Dad, and some of the greatest experiences of my childhood…it just took a little fear, and a little faith to get there.

I guess it is no surprise that our Father in heaven has some spectacular adventures in store, yet often it seems that in order to get in on God’s action, we have to head into some treacherous waters. And it is in those times when we must know and trust God’s good heart for us, his deep love, and that he does not wish harm upon us even in the slightest, but rather he wants us to taste the fullness and richness of who he is. I feel that for every storm of anxiety, fear, heartache and doubt, I learn to taste and see new rich flavors of who God is, I trust and love him more, and yet I fear the vastness and mystery of his sea no less, maybe I’m just becoming a more seasoned sailor.

To close, here is the last paragraph from me in a storm at sea (figuratively) three years ago…If I have learned anything over the past three years, it is that God undoubtedly is there in our storms, in really really real kinds of ways…through my storms I’ve learned to be a better sailor in God’s great sea.

“At the end of the day, none of the things that are making my life difficult are gone, nor does it seem like they will be gone any day soon. While I can not understand the course of time and the events that take place between the hours and days of our lives as they pass along, I can feel comfortable in my lack of understanding. If we knew what was really going on, serving God would require no faith and no trust. I am confident that God allows us to get to and often takes us to place where we are left to question, ”What are you doing?” only to be met with his simple reply, “Do you trust me?” I know that right now there is much going on which I cannot understand, however, I can stand at the shore of this great sea, and trust that the hand that has unsettled the waves, will also keep me afloat in the midst of the storm.” – Me, Sept 22, 2005

If it takes storms to let me see, know, and love God more each day, then I pray that he takes me to sea. And I pray that if it takes a storm for you to see the bigness and realness of a God that loves you, then I pray that you would never know a still sea.

Safe Sailing,
CP

Chrispanoff.blogspot.com

It Never Lasts...

Over the years I have come to appreciate cherish some profoundly simple moments, and simple places. One place I have found that is a great reminder of my place in this world, and God’s rightful place on his throne above is the airport. I believe that there is no place in which we become quite as human, and there is no place at least for me where I get such a clear grip of where I really am.

I love gazing out the window of a plane to look down on the world below, I think in a lot of ways it helps me to be realistic about the size of what’s important in my life. From 30,000 feet, no problem can be that big of a deal…it all gets reduced to a scale that seems so much more manageable.

I love watching people navigate all the lines and protocols at the airport. Protocol strips us all of our worldly “rank”, and evens the playing field. No matter who you are or how much you make, your shoes are coming off, you’ll present your ID, and you’re going to play by the rules to get to where you need to go. It’s not negotiable, we all are reduced to the same level (despite what we think about ourselves).

I love imagining the lifetimes that somehow all get to meet and the same intersection on a 2 hour flight from Atlanta to Newark. I love knowing that God’s level of intimate involvement, love for, and care over everyone is the same no matter what aisle, seat, or flight we’re on. Sometimes it just helps me to understand how big he is when I remember he’s got the whole world in his hand, not just my silly little life.

Airports, as bad as they can be, do much good for me, particularly when they help me to reconsider what really matters, and to what extent the things that matter, matter. They help me be and stay in the present tense; they help me live where I am.

Like the seasons, nothing lasts. Sometimes I find myself being all too concerned with what was, or what is yet to be, and I miss out on so much. I spend my Summer readying for harvest, I spend my Fall, stocking up for Winter, I spend my Winter bitching about snow and cold temperatures, I spend my spring regretting my Winter…I mean its not a literal sequence of how my life works, but the point is that there is so much out there that we have to keep us from savoring where we are. I have missed the colors, scents, and sights at many times in my life. I am learning to slow down, I am trusting that the quantity of time I get largely isn’t up to me, but the quality of my time here can be impacted by my choices…one of which being pace.

Time, just like anything is a gift from God, to abuse it whether by carelessness, or selfishness, through hurry or laziness, is treacherous.

None of it lasts, and when we come to embrace this fact as truth, we learn to gently embrace each moment…always being seasoned with the right amounts of past and future to give the present a succulent sweet aroma in our lives. Ultimately we end up having our pleasures and problems all in the right size…as opposed to being the focal point of the dialogues of our lives they become footnotes, and we begin to focus on the real story…the story of God’s love being worked out in our lives.

I think fear is one of the greatest poisons that distracts our priorities…fear either hurries us or makes us stagnant…enjoyment, in balance, is the only way to hold the present tense in proper reverence…

Using the food metaphor…if life is an all you can eat buffet, I’m the guy who eats himself sick, and dies of an arterial blockage 30 years before his time…fear leads to eating disorders, either we gorge ourselves or starve from not partaking the food of life.

I have been thinking a lot recently about how things change in life, what we learn from that change, and how we choose to respond to change.

Understanding the concept of being temporary has substantial implications on our lives. When we come to embrace the concept of transience of our circumstances, we ready our hearts for change and we loosen our grips on this world. The reality is that it never lasts…no matter what it is. Pain, pleasure, wealth, famine, beauty, youth, popularity, social accomplishment, professional accolades…we are promised that it all fades to nothing. When we come to view any of our earthly conditions as permanent we experience an extreme detachment from all that is holy, and we destine our selves for a place of hopelessness. Whether we subscribe to the permanence of evil, or the permanence of good on this earth; assigning permanent qualities to impermanent things communicates a hugely out of balance view of this world.

When we start to embrace that all that we have is borrowed time, we begin to live coexist with the delicate balance that is living in the here and now…the present tense. Some would conclude this concept of fleeting existence to be disturbing or depressing, but when held in the context of Christ it liberates us in so many ways. We no longer become slaves do finances or cultural believe, instead we enable ourselves to indulge deeply and richly in a life focused on the now, founded on God’s work, and honoring and enjoying God forever (amen).

I feel we all benefit from assessing the attributes of those things we deem to posses permanence, and upon careful consideration, we’ll have a clear picture of all that matters in our lives, and where we put our faith. If at the end none of it is left standing then I guess it might be time to rethink the way we live, the way we love, and the way we spend our present tense.

Personally, I’m thankful to know that whether or prosper or am in despair, that none if it lasts and that all that matters is the love of Christ for me, and my life’s purpose, to honor him.

I’m eagerly anticipating living my life at the right pace for 2009, neither starving nor over-indulging at the buffet of life, just savoring what I have, and knowing that this too shall pass.

Paced,

CP