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

Children's Stories

Last week I did a rigorous update of my pop culture awareness, by that I mean I got caught up on a handful of movies that I have either wanted to see, or felt obligated to see. One of the movies that I thought would be intellectually beneficial was the recent feature length interpretation of Dr. Seuss’s Horton Hears a Who…seriously.

For those of you who haven’t seen it, or do not remember the story from your childhood, there are two dominant themes that stood out to me. First, is the value of keeping your word and honoring your commitment, and then also is the indiscriminate value of human life. You see, Horton, the protagonist elephant, makes a promise to the people of Whoville to secure their world, which is contained on a spec of dust, to a place of safety and order. Horton goes to great lengths and subjects himself to extraordinary peril for two reasons, because he made a promise, and because life is important.

As I was thinking about the profound truth found in this imaginative parable, I started to consider other childhood stories and lessons that I was taught through children’s books. I found myself recalling some serious lessons, deep rooted principles, and pure values to practically apply to the way I live my life. While the lessons are straight forward conceptually, they are not simple, especially when it comes time to apply them to every day life. As I thought deeper I began to realize that a great division often exists between many of the principles we learn and how we apply them to our lives.

Somewhere along the line we become jaded, we stop seeing the world as it should be and begin to see it as it is. We dissect the principle truths that we once thought to be absolute and make them conditional. We compartmentalize the lessons we’ve learned pragmatically into portions of truth which we feel are practical and portions which are impossible for application. The truth of our values is then deduced and manipulated into a conditional mechanism that we fit into our realities, when in fact our realities should be shaped by these core values in their purest form. By no means are all children’s stories gospel truth, but contained in them are a number of life shaping lessons that all too often we as adults deviate from as we slowly are broken down by the real, not ideological, reality in which we must live.

The strange part is that we see and are inspired by the same lessons in thousands of contexts, yet we still fail to implement and secure these values as foundational elements of our relational, professional, and spiritual lives. When we fragment truths and values it is no wonder that we end up with something lesser than the anticipated outcome of a value-centered life. If wisdom, truth, and principle are present in our lives only in the event that they are practical then what do we have? We have lives that posses virtue only to the extent that virtue is found to be profitable or reasonable. In the end it is a self fulfilling prophecy, because we only partially sew the seeds of truth, we partially reap, and yet we end up frustrated that our crops are not bountiful.

So what if we fully embraced the principles of our youth and the lessons we once believed to be so profound. What if we took the lessons we were taught as kids, the lessons we teach our kids and embraced them completely? Would life look different? I believe so.


Think so some of the lessons found in our children’s stories –
Never give up
Share
Keep your word
Preserve in hard times
Love the people around you
Respect the things that make us different
Have big dreams, maintain hope

The list is long, and could be a blog in and of itself…but think of the possibility of these principles being absolutely and practically applied to our lives. The implications are substantial.

There is a reason that Jesus said that one of the keys to experiencing God’s glory was to make yourself as a child. In doing so, we not only take conceptual principles as being noble, but we BELIEVE that they are possible in our lives.

Children’s stories are almost always marked by a sense of imagination and wonder, and this is most certainly the key to bridging the gap. If we can imagine how our lives might be different by embracing truth, then maybe we’d embrace it…and subsequently maybe the lives of the people around us would be changed.

We as grown ups place so much value on being on a higher plane of thought, however I contest that there is value to living life by principles not of a higher plane but rather that of foundational truth, simple truth. For me I am realizing I have a lot to learn and much to implement in my life from the stories of my childhood, and I can’t help consider how much better I would be as a person if I embraced those things wholly, just like Horton did. He didn’t rationalize his way out of a promise…his values didn’t change because of the size of the people he made a promise to…his values were a core foundation for the way his life played out, and it created a marked result in the impact he had on those around him. This most certainly comes at a cost, but at the same time we stand to reap great benefits and live lives that are blessed and bless those around us in new, big, and simple ways.

CP

Control Premiums - Hopeless Love

In my life, there are many times when circumstances or situations have been so grave or so immense that the only sensible reaction that is plausible is to relinquish control and let go of the reigns. Futility can be hugely empowering; when the presence of choices or various courses of action exist it is easy to be consumed and find “hope” in that which we feel we are able to do. We shift reliance towards ability, and trust that we are both well equipped and capable of executing an action plan. However, when troubles grow beyond our ability and we are paralyzed in our efforts to dictate change, we begin to understand in a practical way a sense of hopelessness. Hopelessness not in the sense of pessimism or anticipation of less than ideal outcomes, but rather, hopelessness in the sense that there is truly nothing we can do, and to hope in ourselves or our ability would be utter folly.

We as people, regardless of our psychological predispositions, find comfort in positions of choice and positions where we are empowered to do something…and often, being able to do anything will suffice. When given the ability to act, we own a sense of control, we carry equity in our circumstances. As opposed to being a simple character in the plot, we get to write the script.

Now when the balance of power shifts beyond our grasp in life, we are still afforded much liberty, but as opposed to being proactive we become responsive. The choice of what to do is uprooted, and replanted in how to react. I believe when we examine the things in which we sense even an minute element of control, it is easy to conclude that our control is limited to that which is temporary and fleeting, and our realm of influence does not span past that which is finite. The situations in which we are hopeless in trying to dictate change are the situations of infinite significance in which we become subject to. No matter how hard we try, we are in a position of response, we cannot in these infinite situations, rewrite the rules.

For example, gravity is a constant force that all life on earth must recon with. Whether we choose to accept gravity or not is irrelevant, we can deny its existence, we can attempt to break free from its grasp, but escape is hopeless…we cannot simply avoid the gravitational physics because we do not approve of the parameters it naturally invokes. We can either live a life of disdain and rebellion against gravity, or we can choose to acknowledge the boundaries which healthily exist, and live within them.

In my spirituality and in a Christ-following life, there are many parameters we are given the ability to respond to. It is here that we may find many of the unwavering characteristics of God. His traits of love, sovereignty, goodness, holiness, and his justice (among others) are not contingent upon whether we choose to live by or acknowledge them, rather they simply are. They are unshakablee, they are unending, they are perfect, and they demand a response. Just as is the case with the force of gravity, the way we respond cannot change the nature of that which we respond to; our response predicates the way by we choose to live. Breaking free from the boundaries of the infinite is hopeless, instead we are given the choice to squirm restlessly in resistance or to rest in peace trusting the good nature of God towards us.

I know the word hopeless seems to be a bleak representation of a sanctified life, but it is not hopelessness presented as the absence of hope, it is hopelessness in the sense that we become so consumed by the infinite love, goodness, sovereignty, faithfulness, and holiness, that living by any other parameters not only become illogical but it becomes impossible. The phrase “hopelessly in love” has common place in the world of romance, hopeless love is not love that lacks hope for we know that love in fact is always hopeful, but instead it is love so deep, so true that it is inescapable. Hopeless love, is a love that consumes all that we are, it is love so powerful that we are hopeless to escape, and it is love so true that to do anything other than to live under its authority would be as illogical as senseless as trying to live a life in resistance to gravity.

The more I know my God personally, the more hopeless my love for him becomes. The more I see his goodness and provision, the more I am drawn to respond. With each sliver of his good good heart, I find myself at a place where my life must be radically changed to not only accept but thrive under the infinite, unwavering parameters of this good and perfectly loving God. Any other way would in fact be hopelessly insensible, how could I ever escape the long reach of perfect love? There are vast expanses of God’s love to be explored, and the more we search the more we find. The resurrection, and the provision of redemption invite us into relationship and into a life of freedom, a life of exploration, a life changed, a life in response through hopeless love.

Hopless...in a good way,

CP

http://chrispanoff.blogspot.com

A break in the fog

Its amazing what a day can do...a few shots from the second trip up Corcovado...Its good to know that every once in a while the clouds break to remind us that we do not hope in vain.

CP

To See or not to see: Clouded Vision

Each year thousands of tourists go to Rio De Janeiro, Brazil to see the Cristo Rendento (Christ the Redeemer) Monument that overlooks Rio. Yesterday morning I made the trek up to the top of Corcadova with hopes of seeing the monument, and the beautiful panoramic view that lays before the monument. As you can see from the above pictures, not only could we not see out through the cloud that came in to settle on the monument, but we could hardly make out the monument standing at its feet. The first picture was our view from the top of the mountain, the foreground is a portion of the guide to the panoramic view that we should have seen…and the background is what we saw…yep. The second picture was how we saw the monument, Comedic? absolutely, a great memory…you bet.

I guess in life what we seek is not what we find…but the view can be providential nonetheless. Faith tends for me to often be much about knowing and trusting the beauty of Christ’s plan, even though sometimes I only get a glimpse of his feet and the outline of his cloak.

My trip up Corcovado yesterday got me to start considering the lofty perches from which I often view my faith, life, and God. A lot of my major personal crossroads have been predicated by long lengths of time where my vision has been clouded by circumstance or fear, but everyday (both cloudy and otherwise) the fingerprints and influence of Christ’s divine plan are worked out regardless of the visibility. Our business as people is not subject to rain delays, or being rescheduled on account of some clouds or poor visibility, life is to be lived in the settings in which God creates. It’s much more romantic and poetic to have those moments of great revelation overlooking the vast span of creation, but that is the way I want it, and its not the way Jesus went about his business. Jesus spent his time in cities, on the street, teaching, loving, in ministry with real people, and while he could have spent his years a reclusive naturalist wandering the wilderness in the presence of his father, but that is simply not who Jesus is and its not reflective of the pursuant heart he has for his people.

When I boarded the plane to come down here to Brazil I had a lot of eager anticipation about the beauty I would get to see, and the sights that would be etched this the first (but probably not the last) time I am visiting this “Cidade Maravilhosa” (Marvelous City)…however, God has shown me something more marvelous than the view from high on a hill overlooking a city, he’s shown me his marvelous people…his greatest feet of creation. It took me coming down from the out of the clouds to see it, but the beauty is pulsing through the veins of this town on city streets, in bars, on sidewalks, on beach front sandwich stands, in futbol stadiums, in homes…and this is marvelous.

Our work, our mission is not to live lives that are spent with monumental views, but rather, we are called to live monumental lives. The way our lives play out is supposed to be a monument to the God who loves us, the one who breathed life in us, who created all we see, and who would stop at nothing to provide a way to be rectified justly to him. It’s not about appreciating the way we look or the things that make us different, but it’s seeing creation (us as people) the way God sees us, and that is as marvelous. It is not about worshiping the creation, but is about seeing beyond the clouds of personal struggles and imperfections that taint the way which we interact and go about our business each day, rather its about looking beyond the small things that are divisive and annoying, and looking to the special ways that God has made us; each of us loved in an especially unique way to match the especially unique way we were made…again, it truly is marvelous.

While it is disappointing to go to a place that has some of the best beaches and spectacular views in the world only to have days that have been primarily overcast, I’m deeply refreshed and reminded that there is work to do. There are a lot of lost people who need loving, and there is much creation that surrounds us to be marveled (people). You will find no man more thankful than I to have only seen the feet of Christ, for those feet are the feet that lead me. I trust that God uses clouds in our lives figuratively to focus on what is important, and to keep us looking at the right things and while we might not get the view we want, or see the sights we expect, we might just see a glimpse of something greater, a God who loves and marvels over us.

While there will surely be sunny days ahead, I’m using the clouds in my life, for there are many, not as a distraction but as a means to focusing on the task at hand. While I’m sure off in the distance there are great adventures, mountains to climb, battles to be won, beauty to be cherished; at my feet and in my hands there is plenty to do today and with that I am content. I of course hopefully anticipate all that is down the road, but I’m not there yet and honestly its really hard to see that far (and I certainly have tried), and even though I am hopeful I am busy marveling at what God has created at my fingertips today, and only today.

In awe (but still hoping for sun)
CP