No problem like your own
Mom gave me rules by which to live. Dad gave me thoughts to ponder. He said the following, “There really is no problem like your own.” I often think about this and observe it in others. I am sure he learned in his life the veracity of its truth. I have in mine.
I love quotes. In his book, “The War of Art,” Steven Pressfield says, “A victim is a form of passive aggression. It seeks to achieve gratification not by honest work or a contribution made out of one’s experience or insight or love, but by the manipulation of others through silent (and not-sosilent) threat. The victim compels others to come to his rescue or to behave as he wishes by holding them hostage to the prospect of his own further illness/ meltdown/ mental dissolution, or simply by threatening to make their lives so miserable that they do what he wants. Casting yourself as a victim is the antithesis of doing your work. Don’t do it. If you’re doing it, stop.” Apparently, there really is no problem like your own.
God so much desires to sanctify my spirit. I want so much to go there. In reality, how far do I really want to go? How willing am I to live as Christ, to behave as Christ, to show true compassion as Christ, to love as Christ? If I am attached to my problems, how can I attach myself to another’s? Do I really want to live in the trenches with the least or simply seek comfort in my own righteousness?
Our lives reveal us. We exert our will benignly, vigorously, intentionally and mindlessly, but no matter the means, we exert it.
In his book, “Training in Christianity,” the Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, says, “For though it is true enough that men wish to exercise compassion and self-denial and want to have wisdom, yet, they wish to determine for themselves the measure, insisting that it shall be only to certain degree.” We love our own standard. Adam and Eve took matters into their own hands. We continue today.
1 Peter 3:8 says, “Finally, all of you be of one mind, having compassion for one another; love as brothers, be tenderhearted, be courteous.” I hear Peter’s instruction. I try daily to improve. I seek to understand what God wishes me to do. I realize there is a standard and the standard is not ours. It belongs to God. I fall short.
Thankfully, grace understands the dilemma and understands me. The greatest act of compassion in history is Christ on the cross. At the cross, all effort to earn grace falls away. We cannot reach it by our own hand.
I am of one mind with mankind. I seek to be of one mind with my brothers and sisters in Christ. If I am to be of one mind with God and Christ, I must leave it to God by His measure and this I ponder, often.
“Those who have ears to hear, let them hear” (Matthew 11:15).