For the last several centuries of human history, we have collectively believed that knowledge is power. If we just know more, it will solve our problems. A popular, award-winning public service commercial underscores this belief with the tagline, “The More You Know.” Is the idea even true? Is it true practically? Is it true philosophically?

The modern results of having more knowledge would seem to say that it is not true. We have more knowledge today than at any point in human history and wars still rage in horrific ways. The epidemic of people hurting others is just that, epidemic. More knowledge has not helped us learn how to love more fully. It has not given us peace or joy or anything else that makes life worth living.

Even well-meaning churches have embraced the idea by suggesting that knowing more of the Bible (i.e., getting more knowledge) is central to spiritual maturity. To be sure, knowledge is a necessary thing, a good thing, but it can only take us so far. And, it can give us the illusion of being in control.

The ancient Hebrew text of Proverbs suggests a different kind of knowledge … a genuine “knowing” that is best described as wisdom. Wisdom is an experiential knowing that enters mystery and infinite realities with a humility that does not have things all figured out. Intellectual knowledge says, “I know what is going on … I can accurately assess the situation in front of me.” We label things and describe things, but then we are left without wisdom.

Intellectual knowledge, data, tends to work according to the principle of either/or. Something is either “this” or “that.” It is either good or bad. It is either right or wrong. It is either black or white. This kind of thinking is very helpful when it comes to fixing an engine on an airplane. It is necessary when it comes to mathematics. It is vital to understanding morality and logic. However, as Jacques Ellul said, “Christianity is not moral, it is spiritual.” His assertion is related to this distinction between knowledge and wisdom. Wisdom is relational. It happens when our “spirit” is walking in unity with the Holy Spirit of God. Knowledge can give us categories but not relationship.

And so, when it comes to the matters of the soul and love and relationships, something more is needed. A deeper knowing, a wisdom, is vital because it allows us to live in the midst of the paradoxes and mysteries of life. Wisdom, a true knowing, allows us to live according to the principle of both/and. Most things in life are not either/or, they are both/and.

Knowledge puts a “period” at the end of our evaluations and judgements. Wisdom inserts an “and” that leaves things open-ended … open to God’s perspective. Knowledge says that there are right and wrong answers to absolutely everything whereas wisdom says that we need to listen and be open to God’s leading, direction, and perspective. Simple things can be answered by knowledge, but that which is most significant demands wisdom.

Several months ago, a friend challenged me to quit using the word “but.” His reasoning was simple and profound. The idea is that when we use the word “but”, we are not accepting reality and life as it is. The use of the word “but” serves to protect us from holding what may be harsh realities with an open heart. When we protect ourselves this way, we are closing ourselves off to God and how He is involved. In the same way, the use of a period can say, “this is what it is” and nothing more.

The use of the word “and” opens possibilities and the potential of wisdom as a genuine kind of knowing. Psalm 62 says, “for God alone my soul waits in silence.” The use of the word “and” opens us up to God as we wait for Him to finish the sentence.

So, we might say, “I am so angry at my spouse, and I don’t know how to respond in love.” Or, perhaps, “I’m so angry at my spouse and I love her/him deeply.” Or, “I’m so angry at my spouse and I desire to forgive.” Using the word “and” opens possibilities bigger than the present moment. This suggests it is only as we stay in the present moment with the word “and” that we develop wisdom that will take us peacefully into the future. For some this might appear to discount the anger and lead to a fear of not working through issues regarding anger. Both realities can be true “I am angry at my spouse and I love her/him.” The anger remains present, undiscounted and in need of resolution. So, resolution is possible because the anger is mine. The anger in this instance is mine not my spouses. I can change my response. The word “and” helps make that distinction very clear.

For me, this has been one of the most difficult challenges I’ve ever taken and I’m still working through it months later. Why has it been so difficult? Partly and perhaps mostly, it is habit. And, it is a habit solidly ingrained because the used of “but” or the insertion of a period helps me shape reality in my favor and gives me a sense of control.

Wisdom emerges when we jettison the use of periods and “buts” in favor of the word “and”. The phrase, “it is what it is,” has become a very popular away of addressing hard things. In one sense, this is putting a period at the end of the sentence. It is often a very simple way of discounting reality and my response to it. I am beginning to believe that a better way to address reality is to say: “it is hard, and …”

A few examples of how this might work:

I just lost my job, and the Lord is my shepherd.

I am struggling with that some old sin, and God is so gracious to me.

I have a handicapped child, and God is at work in my life.

I feel alone and lonely, and I know that God will meet me in this place.

Consider how the use of a period or the insertion of “but” shapes thinking in the sentences above.

Practice:

Think about your day.

Bring to your awareness the circumstances and situations you are encountering

State the reality of your situation followed by “and.”

Sit with the Lord and ask Him to complete the sentence in your heart.

Allow the word “and” to become a way to open yourself to God and His goodness in your life. And, to be clear, this puts us in a very vulnerable state before God. And, to be vulnerable before Him is the best place to be!

Thanks to my good friend Michael Donnelly and author Richard Rohr for prompting my thoughts and reflections in this area.

But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead.” Matthew 28:5-7

“But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall.” Malachi 4:2

As the sun rises with healing in its wings,

As night turns to day, I am once again reminded:

I cannot make the sun rise, but I can enjoy its gifts.

All is grace. All is new. All is complete.

Nothing to prove. Nothing to gain. Nothing to do.

Finally, at rest, I can die and every day be reborn.

As the sun rises again tomorrow, may I be awake to receive it.

Reflection: Resurrection. Joy. As the sun rises each day, we are reminded that He has risen. The darkness of night has succumbed to the power of His light and life. He has overcome death and all that death includes: separation, fear, loneliness, anger, hopelessness. Paul wrote, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live but Christ lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” How are you enjoying the life of Christ now alive in you? Paul suggests that faith is central. Do you believe? Not that just He has risen, but that He has risen in you! He is alive and at work in you!! This is the joy and hope of Easter. He is at work. You might feel sad and alone and hopeless, but truth is that He is present and active and alive in you. Are you trusting that reality? Spend a few minutes today prayerfully bringing doubts, fears, hurts, and confusion to the empty tomb & tell Jesus that you trust Him.

Prayer: Jesus, there is so much death around me, but I know You are at work. I know and trust that the resurrection has unleashed a new principle in this world … a new principle in my life. When I feel despair, I know that You are still at work unfolding a plan that I might not see for a while. When I feel alone, I know that You are present. When I feel the disappointment of another plan thwarted, I remember that You have plans that are better than what I could ever dream. Jesus, thank You for entering this world and suffering death so that You could bring life. Thank you for entering my life so that death would no longer be my master, but You … my King, my friend, my Lord, the lover of my soul. Amen.

“Listen carefully: Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds on to life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you’ll have it forever, real, and eternal.” John 12:24-25 (The Message)

The ashes just sit here.

Something turned to nothing.

The darkness enshrouds.

What I could see is no longer visible.

Empty. Alone. Desolate.

I remember His words about life coming from death.

Just words. Happy words for someone else.

Not interested in losing, I believed another story.

Could it be true? Is it possible?

That this, this, is the soil in which life grows?

Reflection: A.W. Tozer said: “To do His supreme work of grace within you He will take from your heart everything you love most. Everything you trust in will go from you. Piles of ashes will lie where your most precious treasures used to be.” Imagine the desolation of Jesus’ followers on that first Holy Saturday. Everything for which they’d hoped lay in a pile of ashes. It is often far too difficult to put ourselves in their shoes. We know the story: Sunday is coming. In fact, it has come and we live under that glorious reality. However, there are certainly places in our lives where we are living a “Saturday” existence. Hopes, dreams, and desires have been stripped away. We wonder if things will ever change or be renewed. Think about a situation, or situations, like that in your life. Ask the Lord to bring something to mind. Perhaps, in trying to be courageous, you’ve lived in denial about losses in your life. Take a few minutes today and hold the ashes before God in prayer. Tell Him that you want to believe that He is at work. Entrust Your heart to His “supreme work of grace.” Be open, honest, and brutally real with Him. He wants your heart … that’s what He is graciously transforming.

Prayer: Father, the ashes in my life are numerous. The darkness that I often feel makes me wonder what You are doing. I am tempted to just not think about any of it. I don’t want to think that You aren’t good. I don’t want to believe that pain and loss are a part of how I truly grow in grace. Today, give me the courage to stay in the pain I feel so that I can entrust it all to You. I want to believe. I want to trust. Thank You for patiently staying by my side through it all. Thank You for loving me so much that You let me experience loss. I know that is true … let me experience it today. Amen.

And they brought him to the place called Golgotha (which means Place of a Skull). And they offered him wine mixed with myrrh, but he did not take it … and it was the third hour when they crucified him … and when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” … and Jesus uttered a loud cry and breathed his last. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, “Truly this man was the Son of God!”  Mark 15:22-39

The dark clouds set the scene

As my heart is stripped bare by this harsh landscape.

My attention drawn. My intention simplified. My passion purified.

The sound of a hammer pushing a nail

Through something indiscernible if not for the cries.

My mind wants to look away

but my imagination had been altered.

You can’t unsee some things.

My mind says “Run! Protect yourself!”

but my heart is drawn to just be with Him.

My mind seeks to analyze the significance

but my heart desires to simply follow.

My mind assures me that I’ll be ok

but heart tells me I’ll never be the same.

As my heart turns pale from being laid bare,

my mind succumbs and finally sees that all things …

every last drop of creation pales in the comparison.

Reflection: See the scene in your imagination. Allow your heart to take it all in. Be careful not to let your mind take over, trying to make sense of it all or sanitizing things to a level that you stay emotionally strong. Watch the scene and let the Holy Spirit minister to you. Is there a way you usually view these events? Let it go and let Him minister in a fresh way. Don’t rush too quickly but linger at the cross today and pay attention to what your heart sees.

Prayer: Father, I don’t have words so I simply sit in silence and take it all in …

Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper. He laid aside his outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, do you wash my feet?” Jesus answered him, “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.” Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” John 13:3-9

He comes quietly, patiently …

Clothed as a servant.

Constant, but never dominant

As He calls out our true name.

Evoking, but never provoking

For our souls are timid.

Desiring, but never demanding

That we love Him in return.

He comes vulnerably, willingly …

Clothed as thirst.

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Will I drink? Will I let Him love me?

Will I let Him touch those places

in me that are dirty, dusty, calloused?

Will I meet His vulnerability with my own?

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When we surrender to love’s call,

The soul is unshakeable and ready …

Reflection: Are there places in your life that you’ve withheld from Jesus’ touch? Perhaps, you intellectually acknowledge His washing and forgiveness, but you haven’t let Him speak truth and love to that part of you. Peter’s response is often our own. We can simply jump up with the desire to get busy serving God, when He clearly desires to serve us … to love us, to minister to us. We can only truly love when we’ve received His love first. Confession of sin is a conversation … not simply a sorrowful acknowledgment which head hung low. He desires not to simply cover over things but to wash them … to get to the core of us and speak love and healing and hope. Will you take a few minutes today and ask Him to search your heart and tell you where He wants to love you? Wait and listen. Then, ask Him what He wants to say to you about that area of your life.

Prayer: Father, all too quickly, I want to jump up and get busy when my vulnerabilities are exposed. When you give me eyes to see those broken places, I often go back to old patterns of making myself feel better. Today, as I hear Your gracious call, give me the strength to stop and let You love me. In this moment, protect my heart from shame and pride so that I may simply enjoy the reality of Your love. I am deeply grateful for Your patient, persistent pursuit of me. Today, may I slow down and let you catch me … at the depths of my being. Amen.

Now when Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, a woman came up to him with an alabaster flask of very expensive ointment, and she poured it on his head as he reclined at table. And when the disciples saw it, they were indignant, saying, “Why this waste? For this could have been sold for a large sum and given to the poor.” But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, “Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a beautiful thing to me. For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me. In pouring this ointment on my body, she has done it to prepare me for burial. Truly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will also be told in memory of her.” Matthew 26:6-13

Beauty draws out my heart.

The extravagance levels me

And calls me to more.

Beauty mirrors grace

And reveals my insolence.

My complaints are really fear,

Fear that my heart might spin uncontrollably

Toward the gravity of His love.

Calculations end where love begins.

Reflection: How do the “practical” issues of life keep you from fully embracing and trusting Jesus? How might the fear of losing control be the deeper issue? Prayerfully and imaginatively put yourself into the scene described in Matthew 26. Be an observer to the perfume poured out … what are you feeling? What do you notice? How does this “beautiful thing” draw your true heart out?

Prayer: Father, I realize that I am powerfully drawn to live a life of extravagant abandon. I desire deeply to live in the freedom of a life in which you are my one motive, my true center, my all in all. Yet, I have fears that often emerge as finely crafted statements of sensibility. I talk myself out of trusting You on a regular basis. Thank you for your patience as You wait for me. Today, may I wait for you … trusting You above the clamor of what is expedient and efficient. Give me ears to hear Your call above all else. Amen.

But when the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together. And one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?” And he said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.” Matthew 22:34-40

“Just tell me what to do,” we say.

Looking for the simple, easy answer.

He smiles and goes past action to the heart.

Listen as He tells another story through

A coin or a fish or a tree.

All things His canvas,

All times at His disposal.

Listen as He speaks to your soul,

Unmasking, uncovering, unraveling.

Quiet the noise so He can do His good work …

Undoing us so that we can be … with Him.

Reflect: How often do you think, “God, just tell me what to do”? He rarely answers this kind of question because it misses the point of our existence. On Tuesday of his final week, Jesus taught extensively to the crowds, responding to questions that were intended to trap Him. The noise of our lives keeps us living on the surface where we want to control through actions and taking charge. Jesus speaks to the depths of us where we desire the simplicity and purity of life with Him. How might you stop today and quiet all the noise of your life and your mind? As you quiet yourself, listen to His voice and notice how He calls you away from control to resting in His love.

Pray: Jesus, thank You for not answering all my prayers. Thank You for persistently calling me back to the primacy of love. So frequently, my motive is the easy fix of getting rid of pain through gaining control in some way. Thank You for loving me so much that You wait for me … patiently, persistently, perfectly. Today, may I stop throughout my day to let go of the noise and be quiet with You … listening to Your voice and finding rest … the rest of knowing that I am loved and secure. And, may that love lead me to love You as well as loving those around me. Amen.

And Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you make it a den of robbers.” Matt 21:12-13

Prayer is not something we do,

But something we enter.

A stance of attentiveness,

A dance in which we learn to follow

And listen without words to one who leads.

My life … a house of prayer.

I am a place where He abides,

And I abide as I stop moment by moment

Acknowledging that I am His.

Reflect: How often do you remind yourself that you belong to Him? Without this simple exercise, we always drift into self … self-focus, self-protection, self-loathing, self-ishness, etc. … and we rob God and ourselves of the joy of the “with God life.” Today, offer short, silent prayers each hour in which you acknowledge who you are before God.

Pray: Father, thank You for abiding with me … for doing life with me. I acknowledge that my life drifts frequently into self being the center of my existence. Life is better when I am living in the awareness of your presence and goodness. I acknowledge that I belong to You. My life is not my own, and this is not a surrendering so much as it is acknowledging who I truly am! The “easy yoke” is abiding with You. Thank You for forgiving me for robbing You of what You desire … and what I deeply desire as well. Today, may I live in the awareness and out of the awareness of “us.” Amen.

Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, “Who is this?” And the crowds said, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee.”

Matthew 21:8-11

Desire rises up, it leads me to shout.

But, what is my desire, really?

Deep within, it is pure.

On the surface, jaded and biased

Toward less than Him.

Yet He meets me in my misunderstanding

And receives me in my imperfection,

Connecting with those unknown depths

And yet waiting with me …

For me to emerge.

Reflect: Do your imperfections ever keep you from pursuing Jesus? Do you ever cling to your understanding rather than letting Him transform you? Take a few minutes and ask the Lord to search your heart. The gift of Palm Sunday is that He receives us right where we are and loves us so much that He’ll keep pursuing truly redemptive purposes in our lives no matter the cost!

Pray: Lord Jesus, thank you for receiving my worship and praise … even when my understanding is not full and my motives less than pure. Thank you for loving me and dying for me while I’m still imperfect and self-centered. Thank you for waiting with me as I mature and grow into all you have planned for me. Thank you for being a Savior who meets me where I am but One who loves me so much that You’ll always lead me past myself and into the fullness of all You are. Amen.

In our modern world, anxiety is a constant. The great poet, W. H. Auden, commented in the middle of the last century that we live in an age of anxiety. What would he have said today when anxiety is exploited by advertisers and developers of new products? Anxiety fuels social interactions and relationships from parenting to marriage. Anxiety is addressed, often appropriately, through medication. Anxiety is usually running in the background of all of our lives, fueling and shaping our very existence. How do we understand and address anxiety in our lives?

There is a tension that is always at work in our lives and the way we hold that tension determines everything. In the account of Mary and Martha with Jesus, we get a window into this tension.

Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” Lk 10:38-42

The tension is illustrated with Mary and Martha as the difference between being and doing. People tend to identify with being one or the other of the personalities in this account, but the reality is that we all have both Mary and Martha living inside of us. Mary, the one who simply is … she is comfortable simply sitting and enjoying the presence of Jesus. She is comfortable “being.” Martha is the doer. The problem isn’t that one is better than the other, but that the order of doing and being was reversed.

Luke mentions that Martha was “distracted” or drawn away from something. She was drawn away from “being” which Jesus described as the “one necessary thing” or the good part. Certainly, Jesus didn’t mean that “doing” is bad because it is also a “part”. The emphasis is on the order of the two. Being should precede doing. What we do in life should flow from who we are. Our world tells us that we have to “do” (to perform and please and produce) in order to have a sense of “being” (significance, security, strength). Martha was not doing from a place of being …

Evelyn Underhill describes it this way:

“We spend most of our time conjugating three verbs: to want, to have, and to do … craving, clutching, and fussing … we are kept in perpetual unrest; forgetting that none of these verbs has any ultimate significance except so far as they are included in the fundamental verb, to be, and that being, not wanting, having, and doing, is the essence of a spiritual life.”

When the order of being/doing gets reversed, it creates anxiety in our lives. Jesus shares with Martha that she is anxious and troubled. Martha likely viewed it differently. She saw everyone else as the problem. Mary wasn’t helping! And, Jesus didn’t care! When our “doing” is utilized to give us a sense of “being” – it always leads to a place of anxiety …

When we try to gain a sense of wholeness in our being through our own efforts, we can never do enough which only serves to increase the anxiety. How much do we have to do to feel good about ourselves? How much money do we need to have in order to feel secure? How many friends do we need to feel loved? It is a never ending pursuit which can only serve to further our feelings of insecurity, inadequacy, and illegitimacy. In addition, when we are seeking to find wholeness through what we can do, we can always lose our abilities, our relationships, and our resources.

The very thing we seek, a life of peace and fulfillment, is elusive when we are trying to find it. This is why Jesus said, in Luke 9, “if you are trying to find your life, you will lose it. But, if you lose your life, you will find it.” What a paradoxical statement! And, what He simply means is that we only find, or experience, the life we desire when we let go and stop “doing.” If we will just sit at the feet of Jesus, we begin to see that all we are longing for is ours already. We are at peace, we are loved, we are secure, we are strong, we are worthy, and we are gifted.

One of the first hurdles in reversing the trend of “doing leading to being” is acknowledging the anxiety that is in our lives. Richard Rohr suggests:

“Our culture teaches us that everything out there is hostile. We have to compare, dominate, control, and insure. In brief, we have to be in charge. That need to be in charge moves us deeper and deeper into a world of anxiety.”

We might be able to acknowledge this in the broader culture but what about in our own lives? How do I know if I am an anxious doer? We can look at how we pray. For Martha, her prayer (her conversation with Jesus) was a demand. First, a demand of others and then secondly, a demand of Him. If we are anxious doers, our prayers will be shaped by demands and requests. However, if we are living out of our being, our prayers will be much more shaped by listening and receiving the truth of who we are because of Christ.

Next, how do we move into a place of “being before doing”? Very simply, Jesus said:

“And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you.”

The word “seek” carries the connotation of desire. Jesus challenges us not to desire the very things that make us anxious (in the ancient context it was food and drink), but to desire the kingdom. What is the kingdom? It is life in His presence. The antidote to anxiety is not trying to not be anxious, but to change the object of our desire! Are you desiring a “worry free life” in which you have everything you think you need? Or, are you desiring life with Him in which you trust Him to take care of you? A life of “doing” is still part of the equation but the way you “do” will have a new energy and focus … your life with Him!

Consider the following prayer, written by Reinhold Niebuhr in the middle of the last century, and then make it your own:

God, give me grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, Courage to change the things which should be changed, and the Wisdom to distinguish the one from the other. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace, taking, as Jesus did this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it, trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to Your will, so that I may be reasonably happy in this life, and supremely happy with You forever in the next. Amen.

Photo: Tony O’Brien, from the book Light in the Desert