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Corinthians 9:19-27
April 6, 2014
For though I am free with respect to
all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To
the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I
became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I
might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside
the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law) so that
I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, so that I might
win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means
save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its
blessings.
Do you not know that in a race the
runners all compete, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that
you may win it. Athletes exercise self-control in all things; they do it to
receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable one. So I do not run
aimlessly, nor do I box as though beating the air; but I punish my body and
enslave it, so that after proclaiming to others I myself should not be
disqualified.
I’ve never been much of a fan of the cartoon, The Simpsons, although the few times
that I’ve watched it I’ve found it to be very funny. Early on the show was
heavily criticized by evangelical Christians as a bad example to others because
of Bart Simpson’s brattyness and brashness, as well as his basic disrespect of
authority figures. Ironically, in recent years these same Christians have
praised The Simpsons for being an
example of families that stay together despite their problems. Still, those
issues have had no influence on whether or not I watched the show. I don’t
watch it because it comes on at a time when I’ve always watched other shows.
Back in the early 1990s my wife, Diane (who was then my
girlfriend, Diane) kept talking about how funny the show was. So one time when
visiting her I watched it. The show opened with a scene that was me, or at
least resonated with me. It starts with a snoring Homer Simpson, asleep on his
couch, with an open bag of chocolates on his lap. His mouth is lined with
chocolate smudges. The screen gets all wavy as we slowly enter his dream. The
landscape is different shades of chocolate brown as he reads a sign saying, “Welcome
to Chocolatetown… Population 1325.” Chocolate bunnies hop by, and he joins
them, giddily hopping with joy. He stops as it begins to rain chocolate drops.
Catching them in his hands he shovels them into his mouth. He then dances into
town, where every building, streetlamp, the pavement, and the sidewalks are
made of chocolate.
He walks over to a streetlamp, leans down, and takes a
huge bite out of the pole. Then a chocolate dog happily walks over to him and jumps
into his arms. Homer cuddles the dog, and then takes a huge bite out of its
back. The dog squeals, jumps down, and runs away whining. Homer is in his own
personal chocolate heaven, especially when he pushes his nose up against a
chocolate store window, where is says, “All Chocolate 50% off.”
I identify with Homer. If I had my wish, heaven would be
made of chocolate, not gold. And I don’t mean milk chocolate. I love dark, dark
chocolate. Eating-wise, dark chocolate is my only real temptation. I don’t care
that much about chips and pizza and pretzels and cookies and cake. I just LOVE
dark chocolate. When I’m surrounded by dark chocolate, whether in chocolates
themselves, icing, ice cream, or on Edible Arrangement strawberries, it’s hard
for me to stop myself. Being around chocolate is the one place where I have to
have a lot of self-control.
For all of us self-control is hard because we each have
something in our lives that is hard to control. For some it’s food, whether
that is temptations from salty or sweet snack, carbs or fat. For some it’s
substances—cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, or even gambling. For some it’s media—cell
phones, computers, emails, texts, FaceBook, Twitter, or just browsing the
Internet looking for videos, articles, or anything else. For some it’s our
mouths—saying things we shouldn’t, criticizing, swearing, saying the wrong
thing at the wrong time to wrong person. For others it’s something else. Whatever
it is, all of us have something that causes us to lose self-control. Why?
Actually the problem is our brain committee. Let me
explain. Most people don’t realize that our brains are structured in a way that
actually prevents us from having one will. Our brains are structured in a way
that causes internal conflict. The easiest way to explain this is to describe
the brain the way some brain researchers do. While this is an
oversimplification, they say that our brain has basically three levels: the
reptilian brain, the mammalian brain, and the human brain. The reptilian brain
is the brainstem and autonomic brain functions. It’s where our natural
instincts are. That’s the part of our brain that craves food, drink, and is a
slave to drives. The mammalian brain is more like an animal brain. It is the
part that can be trained, but it’s also where most of our emotions lie. The
human brain is the part residing mostly in the cerebral cortex and the frontal
lobes. It’s where logical, rational thought comes from, as well as conscious
awareness.
What these different levels of the brain do is that they
actually cause us to have different impulses all at the same time. Our rational
thought conflicts with our emotional desires and our instinctual drives. The
different levels and parts of the brain interact much like a brain committee.
Unfortunately, it’s a committee that doesn’t always work well together. Take
dieting, for example. Here’s more or less what happens. Our rational, logical
brain says, “We need to go on a diet.”
Other rational parts of our brain agree to the motion. The animal and reptilian
members of the brain committee protest, but to no avail. Still, they wait for their
chance.
A week of good, solid dieting ensues. Then comes the
following Friday—weigh-in day. You’ve spent the whole week being good, eating
healthy, avoiding all the things that normally lead to a binge, and then you step
on the scale. You’ve lost 4 pounds. You feel good. It’s then that the rest of
the brain committee begins to speak…
“Ohhhhhh,… you’ve
done SUCH a good job. You deserve ice cream. Or maybe a muffin. I know,… a cinnamon roll from Panera. It’s okay.
You’ll eat a salad first. It will be healthy. And then the cinnamon roll will
be your reward for all your hard work. You deserve it…”
The next day, after your binge, you’re determined to
get back to the diet, and the logical, rational part of the brain committee
tries to retake control. But then the rest of the committee chimes in again: “Come on, you can take the day off. You’ve
worked so hard. Just relax. You can always go back to the diet tomorrow… “ Soon
there’s not more dieting and you’ve regained the four pounds plus an extra
pound.
Our brain committee not only keeps us from dieting, exercising,
quitting, and changing, it also keeps us from growing spiritually. Growing in
faith takes self-discipline. It takes spiritual practices. I’ve come to the
conclusion that in many ways church is like dieting and exercising. We all know
that eating a healthy diet, exercising, getting enough sleep, and other kinds
of disciplines actually make us healthier. But we have a hard time doing them
because our brain committee can’t agree on it. In the same way, going to church
makes us healthier in every way. There’s been enough research to show this. Researchers
have consistently found that just by going to church you are healthier than a
person who is just like you who doesn’t.
Being part of a church is a discipline. Getting up on
Sunday mornings and going to church is a discipline that makes you happier, but
just as it happens with eating a healthy diet and exercising, there are parts
of our brain committees that tell us to stay home, sleep in, hang out, chill: “You’ve had a hard week. You don’t need to
go to church. Stay home and rest. It won’t hurt you. You’ll feel refreshed.
You’ll feel better.” But the reality is that you won’t feel better. You
won’t notice the difference, but going to church will make you better. Still,
it’s a discipline.
The church offers all sorts of opportunities to grow
healthier, but that doesn’t mean we always take advantage of them. In this
church, we have small groups, centering prayer groups, a labyrinth, Sunday
worship, adult education classes, and all sorts of ministry and mission
opportunities, all of which are disciplines that help us grow spiritually as we
also help others grow spiritually.
The reality is that this church and any church can only
offer opportunities, but it’s still up to each of us to take responsibility for
taking on a discipline. The key is that we have to exercise enough self-control
to actually engage in a way that makes our lives better.
Ultimately part of the teaching of Christianity is that
we need to develop a series of practices that help us to sense God, hear God,
and follow God. Those practices can change over time, but the important thing
is setting up a discipline that helps us grow in God. I’ve done this for much
of my adult life, and it’s made a difference.
My self-discipline really started in earnest when I was
in my late 20s. I began to practice what is called contemplative prayer, which
we often call centering prayer here. It’s a form of prayer in which you don’t
ask God for anything, or even try to hear God. Instead, you sit in silence
trying to still your mind and simply be open to God. The idea is to calm our
thinking so that in life we can be more open to God. I began practicing it in 1989,
starting just with five minutes of silence. Over time I extended it to 10
minutes, then 20 minutes, then 30 minutes. Within the next few years I was able
to sit in silent prayer for 45 minutes to an hour.
I did this as a basic practice until we had twins in 1999.
Because both Diane and I were sharing the feedings, and only getting about 6
hours of sleep a night, my centering time turned into sleeping time. I’d try to
sit in silence, but I’d fall asleep. So my prayer discipline changed. I started
walking the labyrinth regularly. I turned walking into prayer where I’d make
sure I walked everyday somewhere with lots of trees and life, and I would turn
that time into prayer. The lesson is that the discipline doesn’t always matter
as much as that we have a discipline.
Basically, self-discipline is a key to growing spiritually and to discovering God throughout all
of life because disciplines put our lives into balance.
We need to take responsibility for practicing spiritual
disciplines that help us grow closer to God. This doesn’t mean you have to become
like a monk to be a mystic, cloistered away immersed in lives of prayer. You
just need to develop a set of disciplines, that teach us self-control, and that
ultimately help us to serve God in all of life.
The apostle Paul is the example of this. In our passage
he said that he has become “all things to all people.” In essence, he had
enough self-control and self-discipline, coming out of his life of prayer, that
he could adapt himself to others. He could be a Gentile with Gentiles, a Jew
with Jews, weak with the weak, and strong with the strong. He had a sense of
self-control because he had a life filled with God.
Amen.
