So, I had the good fortune of traveling with eight other Uncommon [good] team members to a conference called Catalyst West last week. It was held up in Irvine as we joined some 3,500 other participants to consider the theme entitled “Of Good Courage.”

All in all, we listened to about twelve remarkable speakers, each of whom took a bit of a different stab at addressing the general theme. Of course, we ended up participating in a wide variety of other activities but I couldn’t help but transfer some of what I took away to these pages. I should mention that the purpose of this annual gathering is to strengthen leaders in the many faith communities represented. So, it’s not just about courage but about how leaders should live out and nurture in others this thing. I should also mention that I had to be in the eldest 10% of those attending, if at that. This was a very nice thing to see!

So, what’s the deal with courage and what is “good courage?”

Rather than repeating what they all said, I’d just as soon draw from their collective wisdom, coupled with my own experience and understanding of courage.

To begin, I think true courage is something extraordinary, not ordinary. This means the attitude and behavior is largely surprising to the casual observer who must wonder what exactly is going on. To act outside of the norm is to embrace risk because the norm is usually risk-averse. And risk is a curious thing. Taking a risk means that the likelihood of success does not appear to be particularly strong. (Well, at least in the normal way we think about risk. I guess anything could appear to entail risk if the chance of success is less than 100%.)

Which gets us to think then about the nature of risk. What are some of the common things we risk that might lead others to feel they are observing something courageous? Well, certainly, things like personal safety and security come to mind. And, of course, security comes in many forms: Physical, financial and psychological/emotional for starters. We take risks when we choose not to protect what gives us security but to, instead, reject security as the prime motivator of our behavior.

It would be reasonable to ask why any of this is important to us on a regular basis. I mean, we often delegate the risks of this world to others. Soldiers, fire fighters and police immediately come to mind. We kind of gaze curiously at entrepreneurs in the business world who take risks, well aware of some of the vast financial rewards available but we often don’t hear stories of the many more failures. Legends are comforting, especially to those of us not so inclined.

One of the speakers related the story of Hercules, the great god-man warrior, as powerful as anyone alive as he battled monsters of all stripes. He is the archetype of a courageous man, defying the odds, proving that a single person can overcome the most extreme and outrageous challenges. We cheer that hero and our culture can be seduced by this version of what courage is. This is not to say that men and women who enter the fray to battle bad things against all odds are not courageous. Heavens no. But the point is that this picture (observed by those of us whose lives are not punctuated by such things) can distract us from the ways that we can be courageous in a good way in the normal course of things.

If courage is about leaving comfortable behind, to what end do we do that? I’m here not to advocate for courage in and of itself. Arguably, it takes courage to do some very bad things in the pursuit of certain ends. I don’t have a specific window into why the organizers of this conference chose the theme “of good courage,” but I imagine it’s because of the nature of good.

As in courage in the cause of good. Now that’s something to think about.

What is good? As we look around at both our immediate world and the world on a larger scale, hopefully we can identify certain kinds of personal attitudes and behaviors whereby we would be “doing good.” One way to easily describe these is by recalling traditional virtues like kindness, patience, humility, compassion, honesty and such. I say traditional because they are largely applauded and accepted by the broad swath of society, if not practiced in reality. (Imagine someone standing up and extolling others to be mean, short-tempered, arrogant, heartless, dishonest, etc… That would be a difficult sell). My point is that “good” may not be all that difficult to define as a set of ideals, if not as a set of specific actions.

Which brings us to courage in both thought and deed.

I think it begins with vision as most things do. A vision that is cast around the belief that I can act to make this world a better place. Each and every day. And, by world, I mean specific things, like the people I face, not as an abstraction but as real, breathing human beings with names and stories … stories of life and death, of joys and suffering, of triumphs and defeats. This vision says that I possess certain tools that help others (as well as my own self) to flourish and be the kind of human being God calls us to be.

Layer in the courage piece and things can get really interesting. Of good courage means stepping out to take risks, real risks, in the pursuit of implementing good. It doesn’t mean joining a crowd at a demonstration. It doesn’t mean getting all fired up with one’s opinions. It means being truly willing to sacrifice something. Now, as a step, that thing being sacrificed might not be all that substantial but, then again, it might be, in which case an apt description would be courageous.

As a long time high school principal, I’m reminded of a couple of programs we ran, whereby hundreds of kids were challenged to step out of the comfort zone of their natural peer groups to seek out others who were marginalized, thereby risking status which (as most people know) is a pretty big deal for teenagers. They had to give up the comfort of relaxing downtimes (lunches, after school, for example) to step out and into the unknown with other kids who didn’t fit … to develop relationships that were largely unnatural given prevailing culture. That takes courage.

For all of us, it’s standing up to bullying in its many forms and I’m not really talking about political bullying here (although that’s a problem) but the various ways bullying goes on right in front of our faces. It takes courage to say, “This should not be happening. Stop it!”

It takes good courage to look serious illness in the face and say, “You do not define me. I will not let you take away my humanity and my purpose for being.”

It takes good courage (as one of the speakers said) to stay when it would be much easier to leave and to leave when it would be much easier to stay.

Once again, it’s being grounded in one’s values and principals that are hopefully built upon eternal truth(s) that have survived the test of time and choosing to follow them at some or great personal risk.

I’ll toss it out there that, in the end, there is no complete rest for the courageous. Yes, there is temporary rest and hopefully much comfort. But, there cannot be complete rest in the midst of a world that is so broken and full of suffering. Yes, we must rest because we are made of flesh and blood and it is natural and good for us to rest. Yes, we can rejoice in the bounty that is around us, we can find things each day that may urge us to break out in song. Yes, we can feast, have fun and join arms with all sorts of other people, some of whom we didn’t even know a minute ago. But, our work is never done. I live a reality that says we are asked to be courageous each day, about which I will say one last thing.

To be courageous is to be bold, but what is bold? I throw it out there that the most courageous thing we can do is to surrender … not to the ways of this world but to the One who was most courageous of all. That may require the greatest leap we’ll ever make. I should know. I avoided it for thirty years, despite many acts that others would equate with some form of courage and risk-taking. Being of good courage means stepping out of our protective shells into a thing and place that is not fully known but beckons nevertheless. A place so good that one cannot help but be courageous in its cause. In this place, ironically, some deemed truly courageous may respond in all honesty with something akin to “not at all. It’s nothing.” Worth thinking about. Thanks for listening.

I have written on this topic before. In our culture, where do these things exist? Yes, some people are wowed by celebrities who are larger than life figures, belying the fact of who they really are. They project manufactured images, rarely tempered by humility, or representing authenticity.

Many people are attracted to glitz, even giddily so. The latest tech tool that beckons and promises. Super animated games of fantasy and violence. With artificial realities soon to become ubiquitous, we will be able to immerse ourselves deep into unnatural worlds. Why emerge?

Competing with this are the things of life that inspire without help. Of these, some rise to the level of remarkable or even greater than that. They are things that cause us to stop in our tracks, not wanting to move lest the moment be disrupted and vanish. They are things that are felt deep in our chests as a kind of longing, perhaps even affecting our very breaths. Do we know these things?

They are not commonplace and rarely arrive bidden. They just appear and we are struck, perhaps, speechless, searching for words that express what we see, feel and experience. Our desire is that these moments do not expire but last far longer than they do. They are so powerful they are imprinted indelibly in our memories and serve to ground us in the things that are most important in this life.

My words for these are often awe and wonder. I wonder how these things are possible or how they have so affected me. To me, the wonder is the mental process that tries to make sense of the thing, to place it into context, to recognize its meaning. “Really? That’s my son, my first born, fresh into this world?” “I know. I am looking at the rings of Saturn, clearly delineated, through a telescope in my backyard. How is that possible?”

But, then, there is the awe. To me, the awe is a visceral response to the thing that we see as remarkably wonderful. It is an act of reverence, of such deep appreciation that this is actually happening and I’m a part of it. I guess I would say that awe is a first cousin to joy. Both are transcendent as they connect us to something so great and profound that the meaning of our lives is set up in stark relief.

So, the first question is, do we have these experiences? If so, when and how? If not, why not? The second question is, what do we do with them when they arrive which, hopefully, they will from time to time.

I have had these experiences from time to time. While similar in nature, they arrive with different levels of intensity. As I implied above, they don’t arrive on schedule but appear as from around a corner: One moment not there, the next moment, Hello!

I don’t know about you but I have two very different responses when the wonder rises up to the level of awe and the awe rises up to the level of … well, I don’t know how to describe it.

One response is to be struck sort of dumb, lacking the desire and ability to speak. Just take it in and don’t move. The other is the opposite. I feel the need to shout in exuberance, to reach up towards something beyond my reach, stretching my mortal body to engage what I perceive to be beyond flesh and blood. This latter one can be perceived as perhaps a milder version of hysteria, hysteria being something akin to uncontrolled emotion … and uncontrolled emotion is not something you should regularly mess around with. So, what gives?

I think it’s in the realm of what it means to abandon something for something much greater. When our eyes are open to the majestic in a way that is immensely stirring, why do we repress our emotions? Perhaps I can admit to being on the dramatic side (full disclosure: I tear up easily, especially in certain movies). I tend to feel things strongly anyway … which is an interesting counterpoint to my tendency to a hyperactive mind.

Drawn into the depths of things where the only outlet is to let what lies deep express itself outwards as opposed to staying contained, rattling around as a caged energy inside a locked box (not conducive to mental health, by the way), in my case this oftentimes manifests as exuberance or heartache (which can be good) or tears or all of the above.

The contemplative, the mystic, the stoic might look at this differently and I’m really good with that. These postures are still going deep but their emotions are largely restrained and if they are still available to wonder and awe then that’s great. But to contemplate something that does not deal in the realm of wonder and awe is not something that strikes me as consistent with what I believe to be true. No offense intended for those who have every reason to disagree.

Back to culture and reality. First of all, do we position ourselves regularly to be struck by wonder and recognize it as awesome? I may be going out on a limb but I’d bet that such phenomenon are less available within they hyperlinked milieu that increasingly typifies our existence. As we cram more and more information into shorter bits of time and space, our ability to step outside in contemplation that allows for meaning to flourish gets reduced. No wonder (no pun intended) that artificial reality is such a draw and may become the overriding reality for many of us in the very near future. I believe we are hardwired to wonder and to be awestruck and most of us will seek it one way or another. As mentioned before, we’ll evaluate people (celebrities, athletes, politicians) into the role of superhuman and marvel at their prowess. What’s worth remarking upon, however, is that we then elevate their beliefs to the level of the sacred, while they may have little clue as to the true significance of things. In this sense, our wonder and awe are misdirected, at least in my judgment. We can marvel at good athletic or acting skills but let’s leave it at that. There is a difference to me, in the matter of degree, between sincere appreciation and the conscious experience of something that is transcendent to normal human phenomenon. And, I think that something delivers a level of meaning to our lives that is not just deep but reflects an echo of who we are in the very best sense of what it means to be human.

I readily admit that I lack the sophistication of a highly trained philosopher, psychologist or theologian so I’m sure these opinions are probably faulty in some respect. I also recognize I’m only touching the surface of things that deserve much more delineation not possible in this format. But, they are my thoughts as I contemplate the nature of my own experience and the experience of others with whom I am familiar. I’ll leave it there for now! Thanks for listening.

We can go through life as if on a treadmill. The same thing and then more of the same thing. A treadmill is nothing if not loyal to the same thing which may not be a bad thing if you want a very finite set of results. But, it’s not a good thing if you want to consider new things.

One thing that gives me great joy is to find a new thing about which I was formally either unaware or had only limited knowledge or experience. I think this is what small children must experience on a regular basis but adults, as consumed as we are in the regime of our lives, don’t apprehend regularly.

This happens to me when I find a brand new author that has a whole series of books that connect with me in a way that I wonder where they were before I discovered them. Interestingly, this sometimes happens when I arrive at the conclusion I will no longer find a brand new author that is as captivating as the last brand new author.

The point I’m trying to make is that it’s one of the wonderful things in life when we come across something that stretches us, pulls us forward, makes our world that much larger than it was yesterday.

I guess that’s a thing that I most like about teaching and learning. It allows us the ability to make the world that much larger (and more meaningful) than it was yesterday.

I tend to absorb a whole lot of information on a regular basis. In absorbing information, my default filter is always set to how relevant that information is to my experience and how I would translate it to anyone who cared to know it. I think that’s what teachers do.

So, to the point: I came across someone about three or four days ago about whom I may have only had the vaguest knowledge but for some reason leaped onto my radar. I’ve spent some considerable time watching his lectures on YouTube (in my spare time) and am amazed at his wisdom and discernment. What gives?

I think my point is that I find joy in being stretched. Some would say I’ve learned a lot. Perhaps that is true. But, I find great joy in coming across someone who has a far more developed understanding of reality than I and who possesses the ability to communicate it clearly and with the kind of character that makes their understanding not just reasonable but likely true.

One of the greatest problems we face these days is how to filter information. How to discern what is true or not. We are increasingly drawn into a thing now commonly referred to as “echo chambers” which are kind of like closed feedback loops that only reinforce things we’ve already assumed to be true. Now, on the one hand that’s not entirely bad: If we are confronted with information that defies what substantiates our conception of reality, we ought to be at least somewhat careful. On the other hand, if we only grasp on to the same story, without considering nuance or refusing to listen to or dialogue with others of different views, we make ourselves kind of a prison.

This is more and more commonplace. Times ten. While I appreciate looking at things that are contradictory to my apprehension of reality, what brings me true joy is coming across something that connects with my experience but significantly expands my ability to contextualize that experience. Isn’t that true for all of us?

So, I am like a kid in the candy shop, absorbing knowledge and using it to examine the things that I believe are worthy of examination. Having said that, I recognize that examined knowledge is just so much fluff without application and my job is to both learn and apply. At least that’s what I believe is my job as both teacher and student.

I’ve had occasion recently to think about words. I do this from time to time. I’ve always been a reader, I guess, and as such I’ve read a lot of words. Some people have a difficult time reading or, maybe not difficult but not something they enjoy much. I can’t imagine not reading but, then again, I can’t imagine fixing a car or building a beautiful wood cabinet from scratch. We each have our particular gifts. I find myself frequently immersed in words so it’s not a surprises when I pause now and then to reflect upon them.

Words and the languages they comprise, are merely symbols of certain things. They are ways we capture our thoughts, ideas and dreams and, when pieced together like we do a puzzle, they actually become a thing of themselves. In doing so, we are able to think and reason and, especially, communicate with others.

Words also lead to meaning, a peculiarly human feature and one, we too frequently take for granted. I guess I took the nature of words for granted for the longest time. They were the way I learned best and a way I was able to become lost in the most remarkable places, traveling backwards in time and around the world to experience all sorts of things from the mundane to the astonishing. It wasn’t until early adulthood, however, that I really began to realize their complexity, similar to mathematical symbols, where a single word might be the critical piece to unlock things of great depth and import. And, it’s only been in the more relatively recent past that I’ve changed some of my habits regarding use of some words.

As the theme of these pages is largely about a thing we can call faith, I want to turn to a couple of observations. They may come across as a little trite and that’s ok.

The first regards the name of that person commonly known as Jesus Christ. Known by some billions of people as God incarnate and many others as all sort of things from a vague historical figure and, perhaps, a teacher to one of the most widely used swear words, these two words can pack a punch.

At the risk of putting too fine a point on things, this man’s name was not Jesus Christ. As such, I’ve evolved away from referring to him in this way. Christ is not a last name. It is a designation; in this instance a reference to the long anticipated messiah or savior of the Hebrew people. Jesus was the son of Joseph and heralded from a backwater town on the shores of a large lake, one we call the Sea of Galilee, itself a not particularly imposing feature in remote part of the Roman Empire. For me, it would make more sense to either just refer to him as Jesus or as Jesus the Christ. To just refer to him as Christ would be like saying Lord or Savior. When Jesus asked his disciples who people thought he was, they told him that people thought he was Elijah or one of the other prophets. When he asked them who they thought he was, Peter answered, “You are the Christ.” I believe they referred to him directly as Rabbi (teacher) and, sometimes, Lord.

Why is this important? Well to many people it just isn’t. But to me, how we interpret these two words will affect how we understand the whole equation.

The thing I believe to be fundamentally true is that this person was both fully God and fully man. A feat so remarkable that it is without equal as a claim in human history. Now, Jesus, the Christ, represents this, where either of these two words in isolation may tilt our understanding of the big picture, or significance, a bit off kilter. In my experience, there may be a tendency to see Jesus as more human than divine and Christ as more divine then human. Why does this matter?

Well, a Jesus that does not reflect the truly awe-some, powerful and holy nature of God is a Jesus that is diminished and open to being made in our own image.

And, a Christ that is somehow perceived as above and beyond us, remote in his divinity is a messiah that is not one of us, a brother who took on flesh to live among us and show us how to become fully human.

Peter was often confused (one reason so many of us can identify with him and are encouraged by his struggles) but he got this one right. “Jesus, you are the Messiah.” “Jesus, you are the long-awaited Lord and savior of our people.” Now, of course at the time, he had no clear idea of what all of that meant, although he was going to learn much later.

For me, one who believes this narrative to be the most true thing in all of existence, he is Jesus, who is who he claims to be, born of a woman while also the Son of God, arrived to take upon all of mankind’s sins and to, ultimately, usher in a new creation where we are invited to spend eternity in God’s holy presence. He is Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ. His name is also Emmanuel which means God with us. To sing Emmanuel is to use one word to make up for two and to give a clear picture of who this person was and is.

One of my regrets (and I have plenty) is that I did not realize this sooner, if for no other reason than how much offense I must have given to others by doing something we commonly know as “taking the Lord’s name in vain.” Sharply and loudly exclaiming “Jesus Christ!” is perhaps the most common expletive or profanity in use today. It’s used in regular conversation and is all over the movies and TV. It is expressed without thought, but merely as severe exasperation or anger. To those who revere him, this comes as a kind of gut punch, regardless of motive. How would any of us feel if ones we truly love were debased in thoughtless manner?

We all know that, purportedly, God shared ten principals for behavior that he trusted Moses would deliver to the Hebrew people. These “commandments” are both admonishments and guidelines so the people who believed in him would know both who he is and the best way to lead their lives. Jesus sort of updated them through his teaching and example, peeling them back until he arrived at the core, which was two rules, upon which all other principles and values would build: Love God with everything and love one another with everything. Of course, we naturally feel overwhelmed by the enormity of such a condition but that’s ok, because of this thing called Grace. By surrendering into the truth of this condition and seeking both help and forgiveness, we are pulled further into the Will of God and towards becoming the types of people Jesus leads us to be.

So, what do these things have in common? Well, if we think the narrative I build all of these reflections around is just plain wrong or a fantasy, then using Jesus Christ as an expletive is meaningless to the issuer, while perhaps being extremely offensive to a listener, similar to a black person receiving the word “nigger” or a Jew the word, “kike.” I did not know this but know it now. I regret the offenses I have caused.

If, however, the narrative is true, then I fear how it is being received by the one whose name is being used so callously. In other words, if the narrative is true and loving God is the biggest deal of all, then this is tantamount to us defiling those closest to us, times ten.

When we use a name, we present a picture of a person or thing. Name-calling or bullying as it’s known, is defeating, a rejection of one’s value. It’s a coarsening that treats people as remote objects, usually in order to promote or call attention to one’s self as a compensatory mechanism. To be profane is to treat with irreverence or disrespect. We are descending into a culture of the profane and it’s called normal.

The God I know says, “don’t do this. There’s a better way. Rise up, open your eyes and see people as I see them.” The God I know says “the tongue can be a most potent weapon and we should watch how we use it.”

What’s in a name? Well, it can be a throw away. A meaningless reference. Or it can be a window into something immensely deep and rewarding.

With Jesus, what’s it going to be?

I could end this here and, maybe, readers who don’t share my strong views on this can leave it at that. Here’s where I go full tilt, to borrow a phrase. As in, “all in.”

There’s a song that is especially compelling. We sang it recently. It about sums it up. It’s entitled, “What a Beautiful Name.” The group Hillsong, one of my favorites, does a live rendition that expresses my feelings almost exactly. They not only speak what I believe when all is said and done, they do so with an exuberance that mirrors my own. Yes, I can rest in solitude and reflect in quiet wonder. But, I can also stand tall, arms wide open and shout with joy. Can’t help it!

Not for everyone, assuredly. Watch it at your own risk.