The one thing my very conservative friends and my liberal friends have in common is that they are extremely kind. I think kind people are kind and mean people are mean and it hardly matters whether they are conservative or not. It has more to do with irritable bowels, I think, or a persons controlling personality vs. their ability to trust Gods grace and speak His truth without associating a persons response to that truth with their own threatened identity. Regardless, I keep the kind friends and slyly slip away from the mean ones. Life’s too short.

Sometimes we associate kindness with weakness or fear of confrontation. We justify loud, angry, or rude behavior by believing that they are necessary to confront evil. We assume that because we are confronting evil, we are doing good. But if we confront evil without kindness, we are the blind leading the blind. Paul tells us that the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

Kindness is not for wimps.

It’s a sign of God at work in your life.

In the race between ‘who’ and ‘how many’, who usually wins–if action is your goal. Find the right people, those that are willing to listen to what you have to say, and ignore the masses that are just going to race on, unchanged. —Seth Godin, Driveby culture and the endless search for wow

The irony of this quote is that because I mentioned marketing in my tweet, I’ll get 5-10 twitter followers claiming to be marketing experts who are already following eight to ten thousand people.

For the past few years, I’ve given up something for Lent. I wouldn’t say I’ve enjoyed it, but I’ve appreciated what I’ve learned about myself.

In different years, I’ve given up coffee and meat and alcohol.

This year, it’s politics.

No reading political stories or emails.

No listening to, reading or watching the news if it might include political items.

No visiting facebook groups to see if a piece of used wrapping paper has more fans than a Senator.

And most of all, no talking (or writing) about politics.

Because we’re here on Ash Wednesday (or we were when I wrote this…technical difficulties), I won’t detail specific examples of why I’m giving this up for Lent.* But I will say, in general, why I’m fasting from politics.

Part of it is that politics makes me angry. I get really worked up over people who don’t know what they are talking about telling other people what to think. This is my broad brush assessment of the political climate in which I find myself. From the top office in the land to the average Joe on Facebook—nearly everyone talks past each other instead of with each other. Those who agree with us are smart and those who don’t lack common sense. We slander our opponents and misrepresent their positions as if truth were a luxury unaffordable in the most prosperous nation on the planet.

Politics is a game that we must win at any cost.

Most of us see politics as a game like any other. Maybe a bit more like professional wrestling than some other games. Really, it’s better than any other show on TV. The characters, the stories, the fights, the lies—it’s all an amazing melodrama.

And that’s just the news.

Even though I see this is happening, I still think I buy into it. I think I believe that winning—getting the right people in or keeping the wrong people out or whatever—will be some magical event that makes everything instantly better. And that because of this, anything I do or think or say about someone is fair game.

But that’s not true.

I’d say why, but then I’d be writing about politics.

All that said, I’d love to hear about your Lenten vow.

What are you giving up for Lent and why?

*This really should have been posted on Fat Tuesday and I tried to keep as much political opinion out as possible. But if this day is supposed to be solemn, this post has definitely brought me to that place.

The first real snow of December always pushes my mind further toward Christmas. But it’s not Christmas. It’s the second week of Advent and I’m waiting for all the wrong things.

And it’s making me cranky.

I’m waiting for other drivers out of my way. I’m waiting for the checker at Target to hurry up. I’m waiting for the girl at Starbucks to quit asking me if I’d like to try their new Carmel Bruleé latte so I can just order my coffee. More than anything, I’m waiting for the rediculously rewritten Christmas carols being used to sell TVs to get off of the air.

Sometimes waiting for Christmas feels like waiting for it to be over.

Maybe it’s time to steal the baby Jesus.

For my wife, stealing baby Jesus is a tradition going back as long as she can remember. Within hours of her mother setting out their hand-carved wooden nativity scene, Amy would sneak into the living room, leaving an empty manger subject to much adoration from a cast of barn animals and oak-colored people.

And just as sure as she would take Jesus out of his manger during Advent, she would return him on Christmas morning. “Jesus didn’t come until Christmas,” she reminds us.

Inspired, we tried pulling the same stunt at work one year. We snuck into the chapel, carefully removed the baby Jesus and placed a note in the manager he vacated: “Don’t rush me! Be back Dec. 25th.”

Predictably, this maneuver didn’t receive overwhelming praise from co-workers. But it is faithful to the story.

The church I became a Christian in emphasized self-examination leading up to communion. As we sat and waited for the trays of tiny biscuits and cups of grape juice to make their way down the row, we were supposed to think of what Jesus has done for us, how he gave himself, how we’ve failed to give ourselves and how he’s forgiven us for that. Advent is like that. It helps us wait and anticipate and hope for the Messiah to come again. Advent helps us appreciate Jesus coming. Advent gets us ready for one of the two best celebrations of the Christian year.

But instead of waiting, we get most of our celebrating out of our system beforehand. Offices are full of Christmas goodies right up until Christmas Day. The day after everyone’s signing up at the gym. We play Christmas music non-stop starting on Black Friday, but hum a bar or two of Jingle Bells on December 26th, you’ll probably get clubbed in the skull with fruitcake.

I wonder if we sell our celebration short. We spend about forty days shopping and baking and snacking and about a day and a half celebrating. Maybe if we prepared differently, waited, hoped, longed, our celebrations would be different. More exuberance and less frustration, more feasting and less munching, more joy. Maybe we’d celebrate a bit longer, a bit louder, with a bit more joy and exuberance. We wouldn’t ease in holiday and munch ourselves into a New Year’s resolution, but cannon ball right into the feast of Christmas and party until we’ve got nothing left to give.

If you have a nativity set, give it a try this year. Steal the baby Jesus. Until Christmas, look at the empty manger and imagine a world without a Savior. Wait for the only thing that really matters.

This is a good step forward for Focus. Jim Daly is quoted as saying he thing it will make the employees more positive. No doubt. I’m thrilled for the employees, especially the women who don’t have to wear hose anymore.

But if they are hoping the new dress code will “help Focus attract talented, young Internet technology workers who otherwise would have been put off by having to dress formally every day,”  they are mistaken. No young “internet technology” worker is wearing a tie right now and most aren’t wearing slacks and a collared shirt. If they’re wearing a jacket, it’s with jeans and a t-shirt.

Here’s the lesson: treat people like adults. This is especially true in the case of dress codes. People can dress really well in denim. They can also dress really poorly in slacks. I once worked with a woman who wore pants that had purses embroidered on them. Hideous! But they fit in the dress code.

Don’t make a policy to solve a person. People will always try to get around rules. If you trust them to do your work, trust them to dress in a way that honors your organization. It’ll be better for everyone People may break your trust, but they generally want to earn it back. On top of that, you’ll get their respect and loyalty as well.

My take: The Shack heads in the right direction. A fictional work is well suited to tackle the problem of God’s justice and righteousness. Perhaps it’s the only one that can really do it justice. Non-fiction castrates the discussion, depriving it of the emotion that makes the discussion relevant. Fiction forces you to deal with the emotions that are such a part of who we are.

As a book, it was fair. Young is a fine storyteller, forcing you to either engage with the tale or quit reading. He hits some very good theological points. I don’t have any problem with the idea that God the Father would show himself as an African-American woman. Any objection to this is based in a sort of literalness that the Bible simply doesn’t embrace. Few have a problem with Jesus showing up as a lion in Narnia. Why such a problem with a woman in The Shack?

If I have a criticism, it’s that the writing could use some work. Good storyteller, but the writing needed some help. I usually give up on a book if it doesn’t take me in the first three chapters and was glad I stuck with The Shack through four. But this is a minor concern. More important is that The Shack is helping people deal with fear and pain and the redemption of God in tangible ways.

I’m heading for Africa with work this week. We’re paying for Amy to come along and I’m looking forward to seeing what pictures she gets for me. She’s an uber-talented photographer. Amongst my belongings making the journey to Africa will be my next read, A Prayer for Owen Meany. It was recommended to me by two of my more favorite people, Chad and Teresa. Both are writers and proclaim this to be their favorite book. I’ll also be taking Lord of the Rings (two chapters from the end of book four) and The Books of The Bible. With 20 hours of flight time, I think I’ll get through some significant reading. If you have any more recommendations, let me know. I leave Thursday morning and get back eight days later. Pictures will abound when I get back!

I’ve had a number of people have told me that Rob Bell or Brian McLaren or Tony Jones or Paul Young (among others) are dangerous, bad or something of the sort. I wish I could say I am surprised at how many haven’t actually read the book, heard the talk, watched the video, etc. They heard a radio program where the host was very angry about one of these people. It’s only natural then to assume that being angry is the proper Christian response, even if they can’t remember the details.

I’m not advocating the theology of any of these guys over and above anyone else’s. I enjoy Tony’s work quite a bit and our casual friendship just as much. I’ve found Rob Bell inspiring at times and quote him regularly (as I do below). I haven’t read Rob’s two most recent books. I’ve yet to read The Shack and didn’t care for Brian’s last book at all. The point remains: if you’re going to walk around saying someone is “dangerous” you better know what you’re talking about.

Rob Bell said in one of the Nooma videos, “Some people are looking for a fight because they aren’t in one.” If you’re in a fight against “dangerous” authors, it’s time to find a new fight. Advocate for children. Fight traffiking. Help train leaders. Be an agent of creation and renewal. The world is doing a good enough job of destroying itself without us trying to keep up.