Critical thinking and behavior can be utterly destructive.
The line between them is sometimes as fine as a frog's hair.
This struck me unexpectedly in a recent rehearsal. I was thinking about someone I used to work with (not on our team at WBC, if you're wondering) who seemed to be able to find a way to criticize everything.
And everyone.
We loved that person anyway, but it sure was hard.
When I think of the countless mentors I've had--in a variety of settings--I remember them as geniuses at analyzing, correcting, instructing, and building, but they were seldom if ever critical. They were always constructive. Building. They built songs, concerts, services, programs.
More than that, they built people.
More than that, they built people.
So I started pondering the difference.
Here are some key differences I've noticed:
Critical Constructive
negative realistic
harsh honest
angry tone gentle tone
depressing inspiring
sad face happy face
off-putting attractional
defeating victory seeking
value product over people value people over product
tear down build up
value product over people value people over product
tear down build up
I've decided that I don't want to be critical. I have to be constructive.
And there's something in the scriptures I've been challenged by for years now. I'm not sure exactly how, but I think it speaks into this dynamic:
Maybe in a world (and sometimes, in a church-world) of critical people, those who are constructive really do shine like bright lights.
Maybe the more we look like Jesus, the less we complain or argue. Do you remember what comes before these verses in Philippians 2?
Verse 5 says, "You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had."
Oh sure, Paul. No problem. How do we do THAT?
I imagine he anticipated the question, thus the words that follow:
Though [Jesus] was God,
he did not think of equality with God
as something to cling to.
Instead, he gave up his divine privileges;
he took the humble position of a slave
and was born as a human being.
When he appeared in human form,
he humbled himself in obedience to God
and died a criminal's death on a cross.
Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor
and gave him the name above all other names,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue declare that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.
So when I lay my life out next to that passage, I see the most flaws when I ask questions like these:
a) Do I lead like I'm in charge, basically taking over the role of my Sovereign Savior?
b) Do I cling to status? Am I spending energy trying to get others to think highly of me?
c) Am I quick to give up privileges like Jesus was?
d) Am I okay with other people treating me like their slave?
e) Do I humble myself in obedience? No, really? Every day?
f) Who am I elevating? Me or Jesus?
g) In the deep places of my soul, do I want people to bend their knee to me or to the Father?
I guess when I try to connect all these dots, I realize that the less I look like Jesus, the more critical I become. Those times I look increasingly like Jesus, the more constructive I am.
Nobody built people better than Jesus.
And there's something in the scriptures I've been challenged by for years now. I'm not sure exactly how, but I think it speaks into this dynamic:
"Do everything without complaining and arguing,
so that no one can criticize you.
Live clean, innocent lives as children of God,
shining like bright lights in a world
full of crooked and perverse people."
(Phil 2:14-15)
Maybe in a world (and sometimes, in a church-world) of critical people, those who are constructive really do shine like bright lights.
Maybe the more we look like Jesus, the less we complain or argue. Do you remember what comes before these verses in Philippians 2?
Verse 5 says, "You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had."
Oh sure, Paul. No problem. How do we do THAT?
I imagine he anticipated the question, thus the words that follow:
Though [Jesus] was God,
he did not think of equality with God
as something to cling to.
Instead, he gave up his divine privileges;
he took the humble position of a slave
and was born as a human being.
When he appeared in human form,
he humbled himself in obedience to God
and died a criminal's death on a cross.
Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor
and gave him the name above all other names,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue declare that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.
So when I lay my life out next to that passage, I see the most flaws when I ask questions like these:
a) Do I lead like I'm in charge, basically taking over the role of my Sovereign Savior?
b) Do I cling to status? Am I spending energy trying to get others to think highly of me?
c) Am I quick to give up privileges like Jesus was?
d) Am I okay with other people treating me like their slave?
e) Do I humble myself in obedience? No, really? Every day?
f) Who am I elevating? Me or Jesus?
g) In the deep places of my soul, do I want people to bend their knee to me or to the Father?
I guess when I try to connect all these dots, I realize that the less I look like Jesus, the more critical I become. Those times I look increasingly like Jesus, the more constructive I am.
Nobody built people better than Jesus.
No comments:
Post a Comment