Believes the Best

 

Recently, during one of our Sunday discussions at The Table, I was asked, "What does the Bible mean by love?"

And I think this has been a big question lately. Because this conversation aside, everything has a little bit of a political spin on it in American Christianity lately. And so, the Christians who lean left spend a lot of time talking about how God is love. And, yes, I am probably mostly one of those left leaning Christians talking about love. And I will stand by the fact that God is love and the entire story told in this collection of 56 books is actually meant to be a love story. And that when we do see anger there, it usually has to do with a lack of love.

But then for Christians who lean right, there's a concern that maybe a worldly definition of love has taken over. When the Bible says love and the world says love they're talking about two different kinds of things. And that sometimes love can be firm or have boundaries. And I believe there's truth to that. I mean I love my kids but I'm glad that I told them no sometimes and made them do things they didn't want to like go to school, share and say please, and take antibiotics when they had a bacterial infection, drink water instead of getting dehydrated, and eat quinoa sometimes. I think they're happier, healthier and more likeable because of it. But also, I don't think that the love of the Bible looks like the Matt Walsh blog, a Driskill sermon or the Joe Rogan show either. I said what I said.

So, my answer to this brother at church was simply, "As cliche' as this might sound, the Bible defines love in I Corinthians 13. Is it patient? Kind? Does it seek the good of others? Believe the best?" I could add slow to anger, honoring, protective, hopeful and much more.

Now, I don't think that this particular person who asked this was trying to flip a table or trick me into an "apples to oranges" debate. In fact, he's testified several times to the group of how he's been slowly working through being conscious of this list in his interactions and it's growing him and his family, and therefore all of us.

 Let's take this a step further now. I've been thinking about my own next question...HOW? How do we do these things? What does obedience to this look like? In a few weeks I'm specifically preaching on patience. Pray for me because I'm hoping God doesn't give me any fantastic life-experiences in patience just to give me a good sermon illustration. But I've also been thinking about what it means to "believe the best."

Believing the best is a choice. And the older, and more jaded you get, the harder it gets.

A few years ago I read a book by Malcom Gladwell called Talking to Strangers. There were stories about spies, and con artists, and just plain bad people who kind of had everybody fooled. As well as seemingly shady characters who happened to be innocent. And the biggest take away of the book is that none of us really knows anyone. Even those we're closest to have the ability to hide a lot from us, unless we're mind readers. And I don't believe in mind readers. So on one hand, we're not actually wrong to feel like we can't trust anyone. But also, at the same time, believing the worst of people and living constantly on guard, ready to fight all the bad guys, will lead to a miserable existence. 

This came up again as I watched the series "Scamanda" on Hulu this week. 

Sidenote: If you want to know what actually goes on inside MY brain, the whole reason I chose to watch this is that a few weeks ago while standing in line at Disneyland someone asked me if I'd seen it and I said "Yes" and then later realized I thought she was talking about a different cancer scam story I'd watched "Apple Cider Vinegar" so I basically watched it to make an honest woman out of myself. If the person who I said that to is reading this...I lied. But on accident. And I fixed it.

Back to Scammanda: I felt the familiar gut punch that every single pastor also probably felt watching it. Because if I were part of a denomination that was ok with gambling I would bet a whole lot of money that every single pastor I know has been played before. And we've probably also had to deal with the guilt of the fact that that has probably caused other people to be played as well.

Whether it's a flat-out scam, or a white lie about the nature of their situation, it is one of our greatest job hazards. Not the losses so much as the jadedness that can eat away with you.

So, what does it mean to love well then? To believe the best, while also protecting those we're responsible for.

I don't know. But here's where I'm at.

I feel like I've come to three basic rules for myself with all of this. Whether it's trusting someone with a position they might misuse or mismanage, or with following the historical and Biblical tradition of the church in caring for the needs of our community, I focus on three facts:

1. I accept that fact that it's possible that anyone could be lying to me, no matter how well I think I know them or can read the situation. And I also accept that the assumptions I make that are negative are often just as false. We get stuff wrong.

2. Because of this I set up good solid boundaries, that would reasonably protect myself and others from harm and I enforce them fairly across the board no matter who they are. 

Here's what I mean...

We should not "just trust" someone when it comes to, for example the safety of children. My own mom, husband and son get a background check before volunteering with children's ministry. I follow ministry-safe best practices such as a rule of threes whenever anyone is interacting with minors at a church or school function. 

We can believe the best while still being good stewards of God's money. Our church has solid benevolence fund policies for how much money we can give and to who and why or how often, and several sets of eyes looking at any reimbursed spending. Big expenses go through lots of red tape. And we communicate our concerns with grace and truth.

3. Most importantly, though, once those solid non-negotiable safety barriers are firmly in place, we choose to believe the best of people and their motives. Not because we're naive, but because we know that to live any other way would destroy us from the inside out. 

I'm learning to apply this to my "civilian" relationships as well. In my marriage, as a mom, daughter, friend, I have this tendency to want to read minds. But as I mentioned earlier, that's not really a thing. I see a behavior and I try to create a motive narrative.  I'm learning that I'm usually wrong (sometimes hilariously so). And even if I'm not, this mind reading game is cancerous.

Example:

A group of ladies get together for lunch. 

One hardly talks at all. She doesn't make eye contact. She takes the seat farthest from me.

She's mad. She's mad at me. It's probably because I posted that allergy-mom article on Facebook before I came. She probably thinks I caused Moses' allergies because I didn't eat the right foods when I was pregnant and nursing. How judgy! Or she's one of those moms that thinks we shouldn't ban peanuts from a classroom. I can't trust her. She's being quiet because she hopes I don't come next time. I probably shouldn't. There's no way that me posting that article and her being so weird are a coincidence. It definitely had to be this.

OR:

My boys and husband leave their socks on the floor.

They don't think I work very hard during the day. They left them there because they think it's fair I clean up after them. They think they work harder than I do. They're making a statement with those stupid socks.

Most likely the friend didn't get enough sleep, or she's in her head about a fight she had with her husband, or she's feeling self-conscious and doesn't want to say the wrong things. Most likely my family doesn't even notice that they're leaving their socks on the floor, and they could care less if I picked them up. Most likely they're not all trying to send me some kind of message. 

Or maybe I'm absolutely right! Maybe the socks are intentional disrespect, and my "friend" is thinking terrible things about me and wishes we would let kids fingerpaint with Costco size jars of peanut butter.

What does it mean to "believe the best" even if it could turn out to be "the worst"?

As any good therapist would say, "Have you asked them about any of this?" 

Maybe believing the best means having conversations instead of making wild guesses.

Believing the best can include boundaries. I can choose to only do laundry that makes it into a bin. I don't have to change who I am or defend my choices as a mom. I can continue to set boundaries or speak truth. 

But I can also CHOOSE to believe that people want to do the right things, they don't want to hurt me, and that they have good reasons for their behaviors just like I believe I have good reasons for mine. 

Because, in the end, I want to live in a world that looks a lot less like a chess game and a lot more like I Corinthians 13.