No one ever asks “Who do you want to be when you grow up?” In fact, we seldom ask ourselves who we are becoming.

When I am older, will I be…kind or cold; generous or tight-fisted; considerate or self-absorbed; patient or quick-tempered? Will I be an influential mentor who lifts others to achieve their full potential or a ladder-climber seeking my own advancement? Will I be wise or foolish? Will my faith be stronger or weaker? Will I have moral and relational integrity or be marked by my indiscretions? Will I know Jesus any better than I do today?

Often we assume these things just happen. Some of them are hard-wired into our personality or burned in by our upbringing. It’s true – personality appears at birth. Our strengths and weaknesses are apparent almost before we can walk or talk. So much of who we are is part of the wonder and weight of being human. Blessing or curse, we are who we are.

But we don’t have to stay that way.

Character is different than personality. It is more than the sum total of our natural instincts and inclinations. It is shaped partly by our experiences, but more by how we choose to process and persevere through them. And we do choose. With every waking moment we are presented paths to pick from. Our decisions shape our destiny. And inherent in each choice is the seed that will grow into our future character, a tree not limited by birthright or upbringing or natural ability.

Most days, we don’t consider this. We hope we’ll end up better people. We assume we will “grow up” or “figure it out” at some point. Sadly, we often never do. What will I be like when I am 30? 40? 50? Unless you and I take direct, deliberate action to intervene, the answer is simply “more of what I am now.”

Creation itself, from the beginning of time to the end of the universe, is kept in rhythm by the cycle of sowing and reaping, seed time and harvest. Every living thing is sustained by an ecosphere that refreshes itself though birth and growth, each after its kind. Scripture leverages this truth heavily – not as a pithy metaphor, but as a metaphysical reality – what you sow you also will reap.

Who you will be later depends on the seeds you plant today. Wishing does not make it so. If you hope to be someone different in ten years but do nothing different tomorrow, your harvest will not change. Ruthlessly clawing your way to the top but believing you will later be generous and helpful to others is as pointless as planting watermelons, then hoping and praying for wheat.

Simply put, we are becoming who we are.

Change can be harder than you think. It can take a lifetime. If you are naturally critical, kind and generous words can be as hard to conjure as water from a rock. If you tend toward selfishness, altruism can seem out of reach. For the impatient, it can be hard to fathom being described as long-suffering.

This is, of course, because lasting change requires time, energy, and endurance. Reality TV transformations are the only ones that take place overnight (and they aren’t reality). Through a thousand fits and starts and long obedience in the same direction we can become someone new, but only if we start today.

Life has a way of speeding by. Just yesterday, I was in my twenties, with all the time in the world to come into my own. Today in my mid-thirties, staring down the gun barrel of forty, I am smack dab in the middle of the years that typically define a life.

Over four years ago, I unwittingly started down a path that would fundamentally transform the course of my life. It began with a general unrest –  a thought tickling at the corners of my consciousness: “who am I becoming?” Untold time, prayer, study, and personal introspection led to one inescapable conclusion: whoever I am becoming, I’m not sure I like him very much.

As the saying goes, “Wherever you go, there you are.” Meaning that no matter the change of scenery and venue, your constant companion is you, and you two can’t have separate rooms. I decided I needed a different roommate.

I realized I was settling for less, waiting for someone to recognize who I wanted to be and make it happen. Worst of all, I wasn’t even considering who God wanted me to become. I was allowing the street-level realities of life – the need to make a living and pay bills, the established structure of my chosen profession, the opinions of others – to mold who I was becoming. And it suddenly became clear – if I don’t do something now, I will wake up too old, too set in my ways, too disillusioned and bitter, wondering where the years went.

I ended up completely reversing my entire life. My secondary hobby became my primary day-job. My day-job became my true calling and reason for being. I drifted away from many with whom I was extremely close and became fast friends with others I barely knew or had never met. And all completely as a by-product – I never consciously set out to do any of that, but it all happened as a natural consequence of my choice to change.

I’ve often said that we are like computers – we all have factory default settings. No matter who we think we are or would like to be, apply enough pressure, stress, and fatigue, and we snap right back to our engrained patterns. Real transformation, then, is more than just momentary change or being able to verbalize the latest trendy words and ideas. It requires resetting our defaults, and in my experience that is painful, slow, and lonely work. It happens out in the wasteland, where John the Baptist types go to wear fur and eat grasshoppers and be tempted and tested and forged into something new. I find myself out there now – somewhere past the Jordan, praying, studying, reading, testing, and becoming….I am not sure quite what yet, but I like him better already. And I have learned the one thing all us desert-dwellers come to know – it was the Spirit that led us out here, and when we are ready, He will lead us back.

Who are we becoming? An amplified version of who we are now. If that is a disappointing thought, maybe it’s time to head out to dry places and start hacking away at those default settings. I’ll save you a rock.

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Though I work a day job to support the ever-increasing family, I still am honored to preach, teach, and otherwise participate in a local community of faith. I still consider making disciples my primary life’s work and purpose. And I’ve been thinking a lot lately about those who have left that work, especially through their own destructive choices – and how not to become one of them.

I read a book awhile back called “Why Great Men Fall.” It spends a lot of time working out the process that leads great men and women (okay mostly it talks about men) to a place of moral, ethical compromise, ending with public scandal and humiliation (think Kobe Bryant, Jimmy Swaggart, Tiger Woods, Ted Haggard). I think everyone with any sort of leadership aspirations or a current leadership position – especially in church land – ought to take a run through. The first chapter left an indelible imprint on me, and so I want to share the basic thoughts with you, dear four readers:

Great moral and ethical failure often begins with a sense of entitlement; the feeling that “I deserve this.”

To quote Agent Smith, “You believe you are special, that the normal rules don’t apply to you.” A light bulb went off when I read this. I have run into this attitude with alarming frequency – the idea that because of my position, hard work, or abilities, I deserve some consideration. To quote the book:

I’m the boss; where would they be without me?

I’ve worked hard for this company; they need to take good care of me. I’ll do whatever I feel like doing.

I’m the anointed one, the pastor, apostle, prophet, bishop, and I can do this because of who I am.

The church version is to call it “blessing” or “grace.” The interesting thing about “grace” and “blessing” is that, in the Biblical sense of those words, grace and blessing aren’t things you demand because you deserve them, but gifts God gives despite our unworthiness.

No leader who fails begins their slide with adultery or embezzlement. They begin with entitlement. I deserve benefits, or pay, or extra time off. I deserve gifts or words of praise. I deserve (and demand)  loyalty to me and my opinions and ideas. I deserve sexual gratification whenever I want it. Once we begin to believe these things are owed to us, it is a short walk to the act of compromising our principles to get them.

It’s astounding to me how much some church leaders think they are owed because they preach the Good News of the homeless carpenter from backwater Galilee. Some demand a large salary or “honorarium” for their ministry. Some demand time to pursue their past times and call this part of their “ministry.” Tragically, still others avoid accountability, refusing to allow anyone to question their lifestyle, spending habits, or relationships with members of the opposite sex. I could give numerous examples I have observed personally, but my name is on this blog, and the Internet is forever . Truly – my point is not to call anyone out (except maybe me), but to post a warning sign: this can happen to me(and you).

I think God gives us examples of entitlement in Scripture (like David and Bathsheba) as well as in our personal experience as a warning to each of us – the beginning of many horrible decisions that will ruin your life and the lives of those you serve, is an attitude of entitlement. Every example I have personally observed began with statements like these: “I’ve dedicated every waking minute to this ministry.” “Why shouldn’t I be blessed for the work I do.” “I’ve earned the right to be trusted. People shouldn’t micro-manage everything I do.” And this heart-stopper: “Don’t judge me”.

There is a lot at stake. If Jon the web developer and father fails morally, he will hurt his family and friends, possibly even his employer or the company he owns, and himself. If Jon the pastor or church leader fails morally or ethically, he will not only devastate that list, but also damage the meaning of the word “Christian” for everyone he ministers to, everyone they know, and (if he’s on TV or working at a megachurch) an untold multitude. It all begins with a sense of entitlement, and it can happen to any of us.

This Easter, as we consider the cross, let us also consider these words of Paul to the Philippians (from the Message):

Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death—and the worst kind of death at that—a crucifixion.

Because of that obedience, God lifted him high and honored him far beyond anyone or anything, ever, so that all created beings in heaven and on earth—even those long ago dead and buried—will bow in worship before this Jesus Christ, and call out in praise that he is the Master of all, to the glorious honor of God the Father.

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As I prepare to share the story of how our family came to be this Sunday at Redwood Hills, I am thinking about one of the main questions we get asked a lot: are fertility treatments consistent with Christian ethics (or more like “are Christians allowed to do that kind of thing?”)? It’s a great question, and one we have spent plenty of time wrestling with. I won’t have time to go into any detail on Sunday, so I thought I would blog it here for you three readers (yes, we are up to three now ). Let me first lay some ground rules.

This is not the Law from Heaven on fertility treatments. It’s also not my attempt to help you circumvent the process of wrestling with this question. If you are facing it, you need to. To me this is not a political issue or a morality tale, it’s simply an intensely personal choice we had to apply our faith to. We hope we got it right. We did our homework. We prayed for wisdom. We believe we were heard.

THE STORY
After trying to conceive for something like 6 or 7 years, our doctor scheduled a surgery for my wife Stacey. He had seen a couple of possible issues on an ultrasound, but needed to operate to find out what was really going on. The surgery took an hour or two longer than it was supposed to. Instead of an outpatient, go home that night event, it ended up being a several day hospital stay. And we received our first real diagnosis: Endometriosis, which had badly damaged the fallopian tubes. “I just don’t think it’s going to happen.” That was the summary.

After recovery time from the surgery, we were presented with three options: 1. Keep trying and see what happens. 2. Adopt. 3. Look into IVF (in vitro fertilization – read up on it if you are unaware of this procedure – I will refer to a lot of things without explaining them all). Since our early 30′s were passing us by quickly, we chose to discard option 1 and evaluate the other two. Both presented a long and expensive road ahead with no guaranteed outcome. In the end we decided to exhaust whatever medical options we had that were consistent with our faith. This part of the decision was fairly subjective and personal – we believe in adoption and respect those who adopt, we simply wanted to keep trying to conceive first, then pursue adoption next.

As we investigated IVF, we carefully examined each part of the process and subjected it to some tests. The main principle we judged everything by was “can this be done in a way that is consistent with the value God places on human life?” The second part was “will our actions have any unintended consequences?” Third, “is this part of the process creating life (or ‘potential life’ for those who like to split hairs)?” If so, how is that life (potential life) treated?

Another principle was what I call the “Dr. Frankenstein test.” “Is this process or procedure attempting to “play God” and mess with the natural order of Creation?”

It sounds silly, but that last one is a rhetorical minefield. In reading lots of opinions, I found that there are good Christian folk who believe most modern medicine fits the Dr. Frank definition – we are playing God by keeping people alive in general. Not being a member of a cult, I reject that, but there has to be SOME ethical limit to medical science, right? Where is the line?

Maybe I can help advance that conversation by telling you what we decided would be consistent with our faith when approaching the IVF process:

1. We felt the process in and of itself is not evil, but could be used for evil.
2. Family planning in general is a decision to create or not create life based on a couple’s will. Since we don’t believe it is is evil to choose to get pregnant or prevent this creation of life through non-destructive contraception, it is not evil on its face to pursue fertility treatments that assist in conception (drug treatments, ovulation prediction, etc.).
3. Using modern medical techniques to circumvent a damaged reproductive organ (in this case fallopian tubes) in the pursuit of restoring a normal bodily function (reproduction) is not dissimilar to the use of an artificial heart or a thousand other medical techniques we accept as ethical.
4. Embryo creation, care, and handling would be the most critical ethical decisions we made, and we insisted on working with a doctor who allowed us to make every decision related to embryos.

I have to stop here and elaborate on some specific choices we made regarding embryos. We have long held that life begins at the point of conception. We read the words of many well-respected Christian thinkers and writers who prefer to say that “potential life” begins at conception, since an embryo cannot become a viable fetus without gestating to a minimum term. They would argue that viable life is created later, possibly at implantation into the uterine wall, possibly later. I concede that important point and respect their rhetorical stance. But rhetoric and theory take a back seat when you have to deal with potential life and death decisions, and for me I think this is one of those areas where we should err on the side of caution. Science apart from faith tells us that something unique happens when two reproductive cells combine to form one organism, and it is at this point that our ethics must be well thought out and carefully considered. And there’s only so much we as fallen humans can really know. Jesus teaches us to go beyond the Law to seek out true righteous acts. So just in case, we decided to treat embryos as de facto life and accord them respect, prayer, and careful handling. This led to a few other decisions:

1. We would only allow embryos to be created from our eggs and sperm, and only for implantation, not for research or donation. On the subject of donation, we really felt that if the eggs or sperm were not viable we would essentially be “adopting” someone else’s cells, and it would be better to offer a home to a child in need of adoption than to pursue donor cells. We also were not comfortable with the idea of donating embryos, as they would then leave our protection and we would have no guarantee they would be treated ethically.
2. We would use every embryo created, no matter how many rounds of IVF this required. This was a big decision, as it is common to harvest and create from 10-15 embryos each cycle. Most of these do not reach the stage where they can be implanted, but they could. We decided that if it were in our power, no viable embryos would be destroyed.
3. We prayed that we would have the wisdom to make the right decisions and that life would be honored with our choices. We felt great peace that God had heard and we were not disobeying Him or rationalizing, so we proceeded.

These decisions led us to ask lots of questions and deal very directly with our doctors. They also closed some doors for us financially (if you are willing to donate eggs, there are programs where the recipients pay for your IVF treatment, which can cost upwards of $15,000-$30,000). We also had to be very sure the tubes were the only issue and that pregnancy was otherwise possible.

We were blessed with doctors who were not only good at what they do, but listened to our concerns and complied with our wishes. We did two rounds of IVF. Both resulted in pregnancies (twins, then a single).  Both times, the doctors were unable to locate Stacey’s left ovary, so only a limited number of eggs could be harvested. In round one, we ended up with four viable embryos. In round two we had three. In both instances we implanted all of the embryos.

Implantation is a big day in IVF. It’s basically setting the embryo down in the uterus in hopes of it finding a home to grow, just like in the normal process. The doctors do all they can to prepare the body to receive an embryo with drugs and hormones and bed rest. But in the end, they can only create the conditions where it is likely. There are no guarantees.

Before the implantation, the embryologist gives you a blown-up microscope image of the embryos. He talks a lot about science and numbers and grades and ratings, but I didn’t pay much attention. To me, I was holding my babies’ first baby pictures, and that was a weighty moment.

Embryologist Guy then leaves you to your thoughts in the hallway while the procedure is happening. Those were profound moments for me as I walked the halls, gripping that photo and committing first four, then three potential lives and their safe keeping to my Father. After all the processes and all the procedures and everything modern medicine had to offer, we still came down to a moment out of anyone’s control.We could only ask God for help.

But for me, that’s how it had been all along.

Let me close by saying this is not a manifesto or meant to be an indictment of anyone’s choices in this realm. These are hard decisions, and we all have to make them the best we can. God is gracious and compassionate and faithful to lead us through the tough decisions. This is how he lead us. Would love to hear your story.

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It’s that time again to look to Washington for salvation – from budget crises and overseas terrorists. I wrote before a post called The Politics of Faith about our sometimes obsession as people of faith with political heroes. I won’t rehash it all, but I do want to approach this from another angle…

The hip thing these days is to mock and ridicule the “other side” in politics. This creates an environment where it is tempting to get into wars of words and witticisms, both on TV and around the water cooler. The question, then, becomes “what should people of faith do in such an environment?” Is it our responsibility to determine which candidates are best for our country from a moral and even a spiritual perspective and attempt to thoughtfully defend those candidates around the office and the lunch table? Shouldn’t we be the people who advocate forcefully for candidates that hold to Judeo-Christian principles? Shouldn’t we try to convince people who they should vote for?

It’s a dilemma to be sure. On the one hand, we would like to see things go “our way” (whatever you have determined that to be). But many of us also live in environments that are hostile to our worldview, and choosing our political candidate based on that prism opens us up to heated attack and even ridicule. In a place like Seattle, I am even seeing a trend amongst Christian-types – a concerted effort to rationalize the dispensing of certain moral criteria in order to support candidates that will gain them a little more credit with co-workers and friends.

Who would Jesus vote for?

That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Some of us say he would vote Democrat because of social justice, and anyone who elevates other moral issues above helping the poor is not a real Christian. Some of us say he would vote Republican because of abortion and gay marriage and anyone elevates helping the poor above these issues is not a real Christian. Who would Jesus really vote for?

I think He would vote for you. I’m not saying I don’t hold political views. I do. Strong ones. And I share them vociferously around the house. I am ridiculously well-informed, consuming much media from both sides. I have a view of how the American government should best be managed. But it’s not on my name tag or my backpack or my mini-van’s bumper (I know, a minivan – what a sellout!). That’s because this is not the thing that defines my person-hood. Because it’s all gonna burn. American democracy is the greatest form of government and the greatest nation ever to exist on planet earth, and it is still only a dim shadow of the world that is to come, not worthy even of comparison.

Jesus proved consistently throughout His ministry that he elevated people above politics. He sluffed off political questions, teaching instead that the residents of His kingdom should make every effort to live at peace in whatever regime they found themselves and concentrate instead on advocacy for the truth of His death and resurrection. This is our core issue – Jesus lived a sinless live, died once for the redemption of all who receive Him, was crucified, dead, and buried, rose on the third day, and ascending to the right hand of God. This simple message is enough to gain us scorn and ridicule. leaving aside our politics.

We must not look to Capitol Hill for a savior. We must not look to supporting political views to gain us credibility or likability with friends and co-workers (translation – supporting the latest new hip candidate will not make the story of Jesus more palatable to your friends, any more than your super-hip tattoo or choice to smoke a cigar. There’s nothing wrong with any of that, unless you’re doing it just to look good to people outside of faith. Then it’s vanity at best, hypocrisy at the worst. But I digress). We must look instead to defend and propagate the incredible story of the love of God through Jesus.

Change we can believe in…

…to shamelessly borrow a phrase . General leadership principle: leadership is influence, and good leadership makes deposits into our bank of credibility and influence. Every time we put some one’s person hood before their position, listen to their opinions, spend time caring about what they care about, demonstrate integrity or sacrificial leadership, do what we say, live consistently, or a thousand other goodly things, we build our influence account. It’s like loose change in a piggy bank that eventually accumulates into a new video game (minus the Coin-Star fee). It takes time, but eventually we build up the kind of influence that can be used to persuade someone to make a change.

The real question is, what will you spend your change on? If you have built enough influence to REALLY influence someone, what should you invest that change account into? Most of us don’t think this strategically. We attempt to exert influence all the time, or at unimportant moments. The condition of the soul is far more important than what people invest their money in, who they vote for, or what they do in their free time. This is why Paul, explaining his method of ministry in Corinth, said:

1When I came to you, brothers, I did not come with eloquence or superior wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God.^[a] 2For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. 3I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling. 4My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, 5so that your faith might not rest on men’s wisdom, but on God’s power.

I Corinthians 2

I want to be like Paul. I want it to be clear to everyone who knows me that the truth of Jesus and Him crucified is at the core of my being. When we talk politics, I have something to say, but no axe to grind. When we talk sports, I have thoughts, but no hill to die on. When we talk work, I am diligent and responsible, but my heart is not buried at the office. When we talk faith, I am fully invested, ready with an answer, and willing to spend whatever good will I have to impress upon the listener the centrality of faith in Jesus to our very existence.

Spend your change wisely. It would truly tank to convince someone of your political argument (or convince them you believe the same way politically) and not have any influence left when the talk turns to matters with eternal weight. Save wisely, spend wisely.

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