Securing The Integrity Of Strangers

I had an experience at a hotel earlier this year that probably could have been avoided. I was watching a movie in the room, paused it and then was going to be charged again to get the movie started again. I called the front desk and they said, “No problem, just order it again and we won’t charge you for the second time.”

The same evening while at the front desk, I helped out a guy, who for some reason didn’t have a credit card to leave for incidental charges. I left a $20 bill at the front desk, which allowed him to check in and which the front desk clerk said I could pick up when I left (since he was not going to charge anything else to his room). “No problem.”  Then about 11:00 p.m., someone offered to drive me to the airport the next morning, so I called the front desk to cancel the taxi I had ordered for 7:00 a.m.  “No problem. We will take care of it.”

You can see where this is going.  The next morning the clerk at the front desk (a different one) told me she couldn’t remove the movie charge but said I could write Comcast to have it removed and then follow up after thirty days to make sure it was removed from my credit card. Right, I’m going to do all that for $15.

Then she had no idea about the $20 I left at the front desk and asked me the name of the gentlemen I had helped out, which I couldn’t remember because I’d never met him before in my life.  And, of course, the taxi–the taxi I had been assured would be cancelled–showed up at 7:00 p.m. to take me to airport.  Three for three.  Nice.

I knew how to avoid this and just didn’t do it this time.  Each time someone promised me something, I should have asked their name and then thanked them, mentioning their name again.  By doing so, I would have let each person know I was holding them accountable for their promise and would remember their name.  It would have called each person to accountability, which would have secured their integrity. I learned this a long time ago and it works. Give it a try. GS

Cautious Christianity v. Kingdom Christianity

I blogged about risk-taking in my last post, When Safe Sucks.  I’ve decided to camp out around this subject of risk-taking for a three-part series because I think it an important subject for Christians.

I think it important  for Christians because Christians, are, on the whole, one of the most conservative and cautious groups of people I know.  Maybe you can think of  a more cautious group.  Perhaps the financial consultants for AARP are more cautious. I don’t know.

It puzzles me though that the Church doesn’t produce more risk-takers. Think about it. You can only enter the kingdom of God as a citizen if you are willing to lose your life (i.e. to save it). (Matthew 10:39).  Kingdom citizenship is an all or nothing proposition. Jesus said, “No one, after putting his hand to the plow and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9:62).

And yet, after risking it all to enter the Kingdom, once inside Christians are subjected to the culture of cautiousness that permeates the Church, and they begin to play it safe.  They opt for cautious Christianity over Kingdom Christianity.

I understand why it happens.  So much of morality is premised on restraint and moderation that it’s easy to see caution as a common denominator and virtue and therefore, its opposite, risk, as a vice.

But risk, like money, is amoral. It can be used for good or bad, to save or destroy. And to disavow it, like taking a vow of poverty, can be to place a roadblock on the path of one’s destiny. Sometimes the only way forward is across a dangerous stretch of road, or through a raging river. Unfortunately, too many Christians have stopped on the bank, having forgotten how to risk it all to go forward.

Christians should be known as the greatest risk-takers. They have the promise of a Divine Enabler (Philippians 4:13), a Divine Indweller (Romans 8:11) and a cosmic safety net (Romans 8:28).

When’s the last time you risked something for the kingdom of God? GS

What Personality Has To Do With Destiny

(c)iStockphoto.com/mwellis

Last week I attended a fundraiser for a local judge. On the way there it occurred to me what an odd thing a fundraiser must be for a judge. Judging is a very intellectual job, yet one has to be social enough to get elected. It’s a profession where the people most qualified to serve are least likely to get the job.

Being a trial lawyer presents similar challenges for me. Yesterday I sat at my computer at work from 7:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., with a thirty minute break for lunch. I was so engrossed in what I was doing I couldn’t believe when I looked at the clock and saw it was nearly 4:00 p.m.

It’s the way I’m hardwired. I can concentrate for very long periods of time on a single task. It’s a good aptitude to have for a trial attorney. But then there are other requirements of trial lawyering that cut directly against my aptitudes and personality traits, things I struggle with but I do because they are necessary. To others they are easy and a joy.

Now, none of what I have just described has anything to do with sin or righteousness. It really has more to do with personality, how one is hardwired. Part of being a person is having certain aptitudes and not having others.

Here’s where I’m going with this. Jesus was sinless, but He was still a person. I’m no theologian, but I think it’s safe to say Jesus was hardwired to be more one way than another. For example, I wonder whether Jesus was naturally more extroverted or introverted, whether He drew more energy from being around people or being alone.

Regardless, I think it’s safe to say that whichever was not his natural tendency, He was able to function in it when necessary to fulfill His destiny. And that’s really the key. If Jesus was naturally extroverted but couldn’t spend time alone with the Father He wouldn’t have fulfilled His destiny. If He was naturally introverted and could spend hours in prayer but couldn’t successfully interact for extended periods of time with people, He wouldn’t have fulfilled His destiny.

There is much talk today about knowing your strengths. Everyone naturally wants to talk about their strengths because it makes them feel good about themselves. But managing your strengths is not particularly difficult. It is being able to function competently in your weaknesses that is more crucial to fulfilling your destiny.

So, the question is, “How well are you managing your weaknesses? GS

Worldviews In The Jury Room

(c)iStockphoto.com/3pod

Yesterday I was in a CLE (Continuing Legal Education) course. CLE is how lawyers keep their skills honed and keep up on this latest changes in the law. Today was a day long mock trial conducted by some of the best trial lawyers in the country, complete with a jury who deliberated at the end of the day in the adjacent room while I and 200 trial lawyers watched via live video.

While the jury ultimately reached the right verdict (juries usually do), how they got there was a bit surprising to me. From the beginning I saw the jury divide in their deliberations according to worldview.

The conservative jurors were obvious and their remarks quickly revealed their inherent trust of companies and distrust of plaintiffs and lawsuits. On the other side were the liberal jurors, who have an inherent distrust for corporations and tend to side with individuals in such disputes. They all heard the same evidence, but they interpreted it very differently, not because of the quality of the evidence but the prism of their worldview.

This shouldn’t have surprised me. I’ve been picking juries for twenty years and have always conducted voir dire based on this assumption. I guess what surprised me was how blatant and conspicuous it was.

Now, here’s where I’m going with all this. There was an objective truth about the evidence, but that truth was distorted by the opposing worldviews through which the jurors viewed it. The key in reaching a true verdict was as much about having the correct worldview as it was about reason. Truth was as much about how they saw as what they saw.

In this respect, what’s true of juries is true of life in general. That’s why I write so much about worldview. If Christians want to see things the way they really are, they don’t need a conservative worldview or a liberal worldview but a Kingdom worldview. That worldview comes first from being obedient to Jesus, which enables one to have the proper worldview, to know Truth. (John 8:32-22).

If you can do that, you are ready to serve on a jury and in life. GS

The Poison We Drink

I was in a consultation recently with a client who was having a problem at work: a coworker had been rude to her, outrageously rude. The client complained to human resources, but they didn’t do anything, and she was determined to continue pursuing grievances until the rude coworker got what she deserved.

I could see what was going to happen because I had seen it before. I tried to convince her that unless she let it go, her continued complaints would make her the problem in the eyes of her employer and probably cost her her job. She said she realized that but she couldn’t let it go and wouldn’t, even if it cost her her job.

This is a situation I see more often than you might think, and I’m a lawyer, not a psychiatrist–people willing to lose their jobs because they are unwilling to lose their unforgiveness.

There are a handful of scriptures that have always troubled me. They are warnings that are not obscure or ambiguous, and while some people try to give them a more benign spin, I’ve always thought it safer to take them at face value and heed their warnings. Blasphemy against the Holy Spirit is one; the narrow gate is another. And then there’s this one: “But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Matt. 6:14-15 NIV). Jesus said it, so I think we can bank on it being true. But how do you do it?

The key is realizing that unforgiveness is not an act of reason, but emotion. We consider our unforgiveness is a rational attempt at justice, but it is actually irrational. Think about it, whom does your unforgiveness upset more, the person who wronged you or you? Duh. As it has been said, “Unforgiveness is the poison we drink hoping another will die.” That’s how irrational it is.

Moreover, unless you are perfect, you will make a mistake and hurt someone someday, if you haven’t already (and I’m confident you have, as we all have). Would you deny another the same forgiveness you covet when you are the perpetrator? Is that rational? Double duh. Unforgiveness is not just, and it’s not rational. And if it’s not rational, that just leaves emotion.

So don’t drink the poison. GS