John 1:1-18 Introductions (meet the book, and meet your ideal self)

We could press forward with Isaiah at this point. The tone shifts dramatically, and the events around which the next chapters were composed are much later historically than the first third of the book. However, our practice had been to look at the “historical” books first, and then to take a look at the “prophetic” books that responded to those events. We also have not spent much time in the New Testament since our completion of Mark. As we saw, Mark has many similarities with the books of Matthew and Luke. John is a rather different reflection on the Jesus story, and it includes a great deal of wisdom that transcends Christian mythology. So, let’s begin to delve into John, and we’ll intersperse that exploration with a continuation of Old Testament texts.

The gospel of John was written sometime between the years 85 and 110 CE, by a Christian (or a community of Christians, possibly in Asia Minor) who followed a distinct mystic path within the Christian cult. This volume is theologically distinct from the other three (synoptic) gospels because it expresses certain traditions connected to a specific interpretation of Christianity. Most likely, this was to ensure clarity and consistency as the influence of this particular spiritual culture grew. It is apparent that the authors know the Jesus stories of the other gospels, which means that these other documents must have been at least partially written and distributed prior to the composition of the gospel of John.

The final version of the gospel of John as we have it expresses a mature, yet distinct, theological interpretation of the Jesus tradition, with less of an interest in chronology and historical accuracy and a greater interest in spiritual truth. It may even be possible that the seven purposefully chosen miracle stories in this gospel reflect sacraments or creeds of a particular community. So, it’s likely that this theology with mystic overtones matured in a Christian community that developed a nuanced set of Jesus traditions distinct from, yet compatible with, Christianity as it was interpreted through Paul and Peter. This document may also have grown over time as the theology of the community developed and spread. 

Often, this gospel is seen as portraying Jesus, Son of God, as the divine miracle worker, through whom eternal life is available (through the gift of the Holy Spirit) because of his death and resurrection. The authors’ seven miracle stories are connected with statements of the character of Jesus about himself, and these “I am” statements have parallels in Jewish Wisdom literature. (Indeed, the identification of Jesus as the Word in this book is a re-framing of the Jewish characterization of Wisdom herself.) However, we will also see that Jesus is depicted here as the ideal example for human behavior, characterized as one who serves out of desire and not obligation, who seeks love and unity rather than making demands of others, and who maintains integrity in the midst of societal misunderstanding and hostility. It is entirely possible to interpret these human qualities and practices as being the source of abundant life.

The introductory 18 verses of John have been analyzed in various ways, with some scholars assuming that the author is commenting on a preexisting hymn because of textual clues. However, there is no evidence of a preexisting text on which this introduction is based, although it could have gone through several revisions before it reached the version we now read. In any case, these first verses set up an authorial tone that is poetic and mysterious, almost as though one needs to be an “insider” to really comprehend the nuances of language. Our goal isn’t necessarily to get inside the author’s head, though. Our goal is just to draw some wisdom or insight that is useful in our own lives.

John 1:1-18 begins with an echo of Genesis 1:1. In the beginning... suggests that something new has happened. We are beginning religious history anew. Capitalization is not a feature of ancient Greek, so turning the Word into a title is an editorial decision on the part of translators. It is apparent that the Word is symbolic of something, though. In Greek, this would be Logos, or the principle of reason and judgment -- more simply, wisdom. Earlier Jewish writings ascribe a feminine gender to Wisdom, but it’s obvious the author is headed in an intentional direction.

So, Wisdom has always been around, and nothing human beings behold came into existence without following the principle of reason and judgment. This thought is often used to justify creationism, even suggesting that Jesus was around before the beginning of the universe. Maybe that’s what the author is actually saying, but without any evidence to support such a claim, it’s just a creative idea. We can say, however, based on all the evidence available to us, that everything that exists follows predictable, natural patterns. There is a certain reasonableness to nature, and we can recognize this even as we continue to learn more about the predictable natural patterns of the world we share and the universe as a whole. The idea of wisdom (or absolute, ultimate Wisdom) didn’t precede human beings, though. Natural processes have been around since there has been anything we might consider natural. Natural processes don’t have any inherent qualities like wisdom, though. The processes aren’t good or bad; they’re just natural. 

Yet, once we start evaluating things -- particularly human behavior -- we certainly find it easy to assess some things as good and other things as bad. We don’t always agree with each other, but we are usually pretty convinced of our own assessment of things. There is a light -- a way of seeing, an insight -- that is available to everyone, and yet not everyone recognizes the value of that perspective. The gospel of John will personify that perspective, that insight, that light. We may not really know what the author’s original intentions were, but we can certainly appreciate the concept of using a character in a story to demonstrate an ideal. The view that many believers take is that everyone should accept that the Light is a unique individual (Jesus) who should be worshiped and upon whom one must rely for salvation. It is an equally legitimate perspective to read John’s Jesus as an exemplar to be emulated -- the embodiment of an ideal that leads to salvation from a very real sort of destruction. 

What we might expect from a more Humanist introduction to the gospel of John, then, could perhaps be expressed:

There is a wisdom and logic to nature. Everything that exists, exists within a predictable array of patterns. Human beings also follow some predictable patterns, even though we don’t always realize that we are engaging in destructive patterns that can’t get us where we most want to go. There is a way of seeing ourselves and other people -- a way of seeing reality -- that creates well-being rather than destroying, and no amount of destructive human behavior can make that way of seeing -- or way of being -- inaccessible.

This is a story. It’s a story about a man who got it -- who saw things creatively rather than destructively. A man who knew who he was, and who knew what kind of world he most wanted to live in. To some people, such a person is really obvious -- a glaring beacon. One of our biggest mistakes would be to assume that we cannot be that person. This is a story about a man, a symbol, an example. This is also a story about all of us.

Such a person who sees the world differently -- who lives differently -- is going to seem unusual to a lot of people. Such a person might be really difficult for some people to accept. Doing things differently is scary. Even if the way we are accustomed to doing things hurts us and the people around us, change is difficult. But, those people who are willing to see themselves, others, and the world a little differently -- those people who follow the example of the man in this story -- they are going to have the power to create something new. They will understand love in a new way. They will understand themselves in a new way. It will be like an awakening -- like a new birth. You could be one of those people.

Imagine that a deeper kind of wisdom took shape in a person. Imagine that there was an individual who didn’t practice the kinds of destructive patterns we all default to when we get scared or anxious. Can you picture what that person would be like? From that image, that ideal, we can derive a new vision of ourselves. Nobody has ever seen any evidence of a supernatural divine being, but we can imagine what qualities such a being would have. A lot of those qualities are qualities we could have -- qualities we already have, if we choose to express them.

If you can imagine a person like that --
          a person who sees the world through eyes of love rather than eyes of fear,
          a person who is personally responsible and conveys honor and respect for all things,
          a person who tells the truth without blame or judgment,
          a person who acts from a place of authenticity --
if you can imagine a person like that, you can imagine a best possible version of yourself. And if you can imagine a best possible version of yourself, you can live into that ideal day by day. And if you can live into that ideal day by day, you can create something new. You can change the world. That’s what this story is about.

Isaiah 38-39: Living in the Present Responsibly

Isaiah 38 and 39 contain two more stories about Hezekiah, both of which are also recorded in 2 Kings, although the version in Isaiah includes a song that does not appear in 2 Kings. Although 2 Chronicles also contains a version of the siege of Jerusalem by Sennacherib (which we explored last week), including some of the strategic preparations Hezekiah made as the Assyrian army advanced, the Chronicler records only a summary of the story of Hezekiah's illness and leaves out the story about the envoys from Babylon altogether. Perhaps the Chronicler didn't want to record anything that made the Judean king look bad, or perhaps the stories evolved and circulated in such a fashion that the Chronicler didn't have the same information as the authors of Isaiah and 2 Kings. Historically, it looks like Hezekiah fell ill and then recovered at a certain point in his reign. What is more interesting is what the stories about the king might help us see in our own lives.

Out of the varied versions of Hezekiah's illness, Isaiah is the only one that suggests a glimpse at what Hezekiah was thinking. 2 Chronicles suggests that Hezekiah was too proud after recovering from his illness, and that his pride brought suffering on himself and his kingdom; only his humility spared them. Without any details, we can only derive that pride can be dangerous, especially for those in positions of power. More details about applying figs to the king's boils and the shadow on a sundial miraculously moving backward appears in 2 Kings, as it does in Isaiah. There is nothing explicit in 2 Kings to accuse Hezekiah of pride, however. Only in Isaiah does the author include a poem or song that reflects Hezekiah's grief that he would die "in the noontide of [his] days," and his subsequent exuberance about regaining his life.

The poet of Isaiah 38:10-20 observes a few things worth acknowledging. First, there are some things we can't control. There are some illnesses no amount of medicine will cure, and yet sometimes people recover through no conscious or intentional action on their part. There are some decisions that we cannot influence, and yet sometimes we are the unexpected beneficiaries of other people's decisions. Second, when we are miserable -- even if we are not so sick that we aren't likely to survive -- we often wallow in our misery and act as though that misery completely fills our future. We are sometimes overwhelmed with hopelessness in the midst of temporary hardship. Third, we can't celebrate once we're dead, so if we have reason for celebration, we should express it while we are alive. The dead are not grateful or hopeful, and they aren't selfish or hopeless either. If there's something that matters to us, we have to tend to it while we are alive.

To the first observation, there are some who will point out that Hezekiah's illness in the story actually was cured because of something he did; he was in control of his own well-being. Surely, this is often the case in our own lives. Our own habits are often the causes of our misery. If we are willing to change what we do, we might create greater well-being in our lives. In Hezekiah's case, perhaps figs have a curative property that alleviates certain deadly boils, but we know that prayer in and of itself doesn't have any effect on reality. As has been pointed out, wishing for something and asking a supernatural to accomplish it for you is no different from magic. In the absence of any supernatural, we must conclude that we have to do something different if we want our reality to be different. It is this practice of acting in accord with our prayers or wishes that actually changes things. When we are willing to act in accordance with what we want, we change our lives. If prayer or some other religious practice prepares us for acting in accord, then so be it, but in this case it is still human action that makes the difference.

Even then, there are limits to what we can control. When we accurately recognize the limits of our control, we are less likely to be miserable. When we accurately assess the magnitude of our hardship, we are potentially less likely to wallow in our misery. Sometimes, our feelings of hopelessness are completely justified, and our emotions are always true, whether they are actually warranted or not. The more we are able to step back from our own circumstances and see a larger picture of our lives and of the world, though, the more we are able to place our own experience in perspective. This surely takes a bit of practice.

Having some perspective could also help us find things to celebrate. The poet of Isaiah 38:10-20 suggests that just being alive is something worth celebrating, and I'm inclined to agree, even though I haven't just recovered from a deadly illness. It might even be that every moment of our lives is ripe with things that are worthy of celebration, if we are just willing to look for those sources of joy rather than the ubiquitous reasons to feel miserable. There is something to be said for living in the present moment with gratitude for what we have.

Being fully present in the moment cuts both ways, then. If we dwell in the past or focus entirely on the future, we miss our opportunities to act and to create. We often hear that we should strive to be awake to the present. Yet, without any perspective at all, we could lose sight of a larger context. We could get overwhelmed by our temporary misery. We could make foolish or naive decisions that don't contribute to the kind of lives we want or the kind of world we want. In order to be fully present in each moment, we have to understand something about what matters to us -- we have to know our general trajectory at least. Otherwise, we might keep making the same mistakes over and over again, or we might keep veering off course from the things we care about most deeply. Balance and perspective are important.

As an example, we have one last story about Hezekiah, told almost exactly the same in 2 Kings 20 and Isaiah 39. Some Babylonian envoys pay Hezekiah a visit, and the king shows them around to all his treasures. After they leave, Isaiah warns the king that Babylon will one day be a great empire that will abscond with all of those treasures as well as Hezekiah's own descendants. (This is an indication that the story originated after Hezekiah's death during or after the time of the Babylonian exile.) Hezekiah, thinking only of the present moment and his personal experience, is grateful that there will be peace during the rest of his lifetime.

Living in the present could have some negative long-term consequences if we are not conscious of a larger context. Our lives are like threads in an enormous tapestry, and our actions determine our connection to all the other threads. Littering might make sense to someone living in the present, and yet it creates a less habitable world for other people. Large scale pollution from industry would follow the same logic, except that its effects on future generations is exponentially greater than a litterbug tossing a fast food bag out of a car window at a stoplight. Being fully present in the moment without any sense of the interconnectedness of our our lives and actions can be profoundly irresponsible. While we cannot predict the future well enough to know the eventual results of every action we take, we can at least consider some of the obvious consequences of our actions. We cannot consider the long-term well-being of ourselves and the people around us, however, without some sense of perspective. We might be much more prone to seek out quick fixes to our anxiety if we are just attuned to the present moment. Thus, while we strive to be fully present in each moment so that we can most effectively act in accord with what we want for our lives, the lives of others, and the world we all share, we have to spend some time thinking about how our actions in the moment fit into a bigger picture.

One way that we can do this is by connecting with other people, particularly people in different circumstances from us. We might do this just by walking around our neighborhoods and introducing ourselves, or we might get involved in an organized effort to improve the well-being of a certain group of people. For instance, through tutoring primarily Latino students in a local GED program, I was able to connect with people who are taking steps to improve their lives -- and the lives of their descendants. I gained a greater appreciation for the sorts of sacrifices some people make in order to provide for the basic needs of their families, and I became more aware of how challenging the current system of bureaucracy can be for some of those people. They have to confront challenges I have never had to confront. I have a different set of challenges in my life, and a different set of sacrifices that make sense in the context of the kind of person I want to be and the kind of life I want to live. Connecting with people who seem different from you on the surface can help provide a more informed sense of perspective. It's easier to be aware of how your actions affect the lives and well-being of the people around you when you are more deeply connected to those people.

Another advantage of our time is the ease with which we can gain information about the world. It's also true that we can get lost in internet rabbit trails, and we must be ever more discerning about the biases of the information we find. Still, we have the potential to understand a great deal about how the patterns and habits of our lives affect our own well being, and how our actions impact the lives of people on the other side of the world. We don't have to learn all that there is to know, and we don't have to learn it all at once. The willingness to continually place a little bit of new information into our worldview can keep us conscious of a larger context in the midst of our moment-by-moment decisions. It bears repeating that this willingness to take in new information also comes with the responsibility to make sure that information is valid, to the best of our ability. Since everyone has biases, all of the information we find has been influenced by someone's biases, and our interpretation of that information will be influenced by our own biases. Even so, being aware of a larger global perspective can help us live in the moment more responsibly.

There are probably dozens of ways that people could maintain a larger perspective while striving to be more fully present in each moment. I'll mention one final way, since it so clearly connects to topics from previous chapters. When we know our guiding principles, it's easier to make decisions. When we are conscious of our values, it's easier to know what to do in the moment. Our values and guiding principles are necessarily big-picture kinds of ideas. They automatically connect us with a larger perspective. They are tapestry-sized concepts. When we spend a little time each day reminding ourselves of our values, the principles we want to guide us, or what we envision as a best possible version of ourselves, moments of anxiety have less potential to send us into a tailspin. Our temporary misery is less likely to overwhelm us when we know what we stand for. We are less likely to sabotage our ability to express our deepest most noble selves when we regularly spend time being aware of how we want to show up in life. Once we have identified our values and our guiding principles, a few minutes is all that it takes to tune in to ourselves and be reminded of those deep truths about who we are.

Our lives are threads in an enormous tapestry, and our moment-by-moment decisions determine how we connect with all the other threads and the tapestry as a whole. In order to make the most of our opportunities, we strive to be more fully present in the moment, and yet our sense of integrity suggests that we maintain a broader perspective. We can do this by building connection with the people around us, developing our knowledge about the larger world we inhabit, and being more deeply aware of the values and principles upon which we want to base our lives. In this way, we might recognize our limits and boundaries with greater clarity, more often prevent momentary misery from overwhelming us, and more frequently recognize all that we have to celebrate.

Isaiah 36-37: Values and the Consequences of Losing Sight of Them

By now, you may be getting tired of all this business about war between different ancient nations. This, unfortunately, is the basic subject matter of a large chunk of the Old Testament. Of course, the thrust of these writings was usually to reinforce the ideas that Yahweh was in control, that the people of Israel and Judah were suffering the consequences of their spiritual infidelity, and that Yahweh would do what he would do because of his nature, not because of any sacrificial bribery on the part of his people. The message isn't always that cut and dried, and there is certainly some development over the centuries. Still, the exclusivity of the Hebrew scriptures with regard to their supernatural is the basic theme throughout. "Our god is better than anyone else's, and we're his favorite people, even when we act irresponsibly and suffer as a result." In any case, this week and next week, we'll look at the last little bit of the first section of Isaiah, and then we'll take a break from this theme for awhile.

Near the close of the eighth century (BCE), King Hezekiah apparently incited a rebellion against Assyria, with the support of Egypt and Babylon. There are several ancient accounts of the event and the outcome, and it is worth noting that the record cannot be set straight because there is no evidence remaining to support any particular version of events, and there is no account that exceeds the others in terms of credibility. In a sudden shift from poetry into narrative writing, the biblical account in Isaiah 36-37 says nothing explicit about Hezekiah provoking Sennacherib (the Assyrian emperor), but it is implied that Hezekiah has at least made some threats of revolution. This account also does not mention the cities that Sennacherib conquered on the way to Jerusalem, but it is understood that, by this time, the kingdom of Israel has already been taken and its people scattered through the Assyrian empire. In Isaiah, an angel moves through the Assyrian army's camp in response to Hezekiah's prayer, and soldiers are struck down by the thousands one night.

Sennacherib's version says nothing about any massive loss of life. According to the Taylor Prism, Sennacherib claims to have taken several cities in Judah and to have threatened Jerusalem sufficiently that Hezekiah paid a tribute of gold, silver, and other treasures, ending the rebellion. Incidentally, 2 Kings first presents the equivalent of Sennacherib's account, then has a story identical to Isaiah. (It isn't at all clear whether 2 Kings or Isaiah was written first.) Herodotus -- writing 250 years after the event -- claims that, on the eve of battle with the Egyptians (not Hezekiah), field mice devoured the bow strings, shield straps, and quivers of the Assyrian army, thus leaving them defenseless and easily slaughtered on the field of battle. Berossus (writing more than 400 years after the fact) reports that it was disease that wiped out 185,000 Assyrian soldiers in one night, and we cannot be sure of the context of that event. None of Berossus' original writings are extant, but he is quoted in Josephus' Jewish Antiquities, which was authored near the end of the first century, CE.

We don't really know when the story in Isaiah 36-37 was originally written, but if we hope to derive any meaning from the tale, it is clear that we must look beyond mere historical veracity. Obviously, Sennacherib marched on Jerusalem and then something happened and the city was left standing. There's not much of a life lesson in that, except perhaps that events don't always wind up going the way they appear to be headed. Sometimes, the impending siege just doesn't happen. Sometimes, the layoffs are just a rumor. Sometimes, an extraordinary IPO is no indication of a company's future success. Sometimes, people and circumstances will surprise us. Maybe that's enough of a lesson to keep in mind.

However, there is more to consider in the account of Hezekiah. First of all, it appears that Hezekiah may have made some empty threats. Judah's military was no match for the Assyrian army, and the king most likely knew this. Maybe he had convinced the leaders of Egypt (or parts of Egypt) and Babylonia to join his revolution, but either the plan was toothless or it was still in its infancy when Sennacherib caught wind of it. Hezekiah put his family, his city, and his kingdom at risk because of his bluster. His words were born out of anxiety and anger rather than out of a sense of purpose and integrity, and anxiety and anger can blind people to reality.

When reality hit home, the leaders in Jerusalem were doing all they could not to let the population of the city know just how serious the threat was. They asked the Assyrian emissaries to speak in a language that the rank and file soldiers wouldn't understand, just so they wouldn't be demoralized! Were the Judahites so naive that they didn't realize that demoralization of the people was the real purpose of such talk? Or does this exchange just make for good storytelling? No matter. The soldiers at least did well in the story by not playing into the taunts of the provocateurs. They didn't make the king's problem their problem, even though it could become their problem rather quickly if violence escalated. They didn't take responsibility for something that wasn't theirs to deal with. They just kept silent.

Hezekiah, on the other hand, decided to plead with Yahweh, to make the actions of Sennacherib about God rather than about Hezekiah's irresponsibility. Sennacherib wasn't at Jerusalem's gate because he had a problem with Hezekiah's god; he was there because he had a problem with Hezekiah's attitude. Dealing with Sennacherib wasn't really Yahweh's responsibility. Yahweh didn't tell Hezekiah to incite a rebellion. Yet, Hezekiah wanted to provoke his god into taking personal offense at Sennacherib's actions, which were pretty predictable actions when you think about it. In the story, Yahweh isn't controlled by Hezekiah's desperate prayer. He decides to act based on what he wants, not based on what Hezekiah wants. The king will still experience the consequences of his actions. His convenient faith in a desperate moment doesn't remove his personal responsibility for his own decisions.

The book of Isaiah assumes the reality of Yahweh, and yet we can conceive of analogs of this story that understand divinity as inherently human rather than externally supernatural. We also are prone to ignore our deepest values, and we too sometimes experience the negative consequences of reacting out of our anxiety. In fact, a lot of the automatic things we do to alleviate our anxiety often exacerbate our anxiety. Quick fixes are perhaps the best example of this. Seeking a quick solution just to make our anxiety go away rarely gets us the results we really want. Hezekiah's problem was not that he was dishonoring a supernatural until he really needed help. His problem was that he wasn't acting with integrity, and then expected another quick fix to take care of the consequences of his integrity gap. Many of us can probably relate.

We have an alternative. We can commit to expressing our deepest, most noble selves more authentically. We can learn to dismantle the irrational fears that produce unnecessary anxiety in our lives. We can recognize our values -- the things about which we care most deeply -- and act with integrity to those values. This is the same as being true to our inner divinity, of honoring whatever qualities we imagine represent the divine. We don't need to talk a big talk and make unrealistic promises or threats; we just need to be our authentic selves.

There will still be consequences to our reactionary behavior when we slip up. Shifting back to a more intentional and principled way of being doesn't eliminate the results of our integrity gaps. There may even be consequences we don't like about living with intentionality and integrity. Some people may not respond to us the way we want them to. We might have to do things differently if we align our actions with our deepest values. Yet, we can bring greater clarity to our decisions when we understand the values upon which our actions are based. In understanding and honoring our values, we allow ourselves to be more complete people, better equipped to make decisions that reflect our deepest, most noble selves. And each time we are willing to act with integrity to ourselves, we build our confidence and ability to keep doing so.

For us, then, the message of Isaiah 36-37 need not be about a supernatural wiping all our problems away in an overnight killing spree. It can be about our willingness to trust our deepest values to guide our actions and decisions. We can be encouraged to recognize our own deep beauty, insight, and creativity, and to honor our selves by acting with integrity -- showing up authentically. We don't have to make demands on other people or insist that everyone else's values line up with ours. In honoring our own deepest, most noble selves and exhibiting integrity in our lives, we open space for others to do the same. Not everyone will take advantage of that space we open up, and that's alright. Our job is to live our own lives the best we can, and that means acting with integrity to our deepest values.

Isaiah 34-35: Creating Our Own "Holy Way"

The next two chapters of Isaiah are contrasting predictions about the fates of "Yahweh's people" and the fates of everybody else. Some of the symbolic themes from previous portions of Isaiah return here. The blindness and deafness that Yahweh commanded the prophet to enforce (Is 6:9-12) will now be removed. Water, symbolic in much of the prophetic literature, is used here as an assurance of life, but of course only Yahweh's people will have access to the streams and pools of water in the wilderness. After acknowledging the literary context of these prophecies, we might gain something from recognizing one last time the flaws in the suggested dependence upon a supernatural and the Us vs Them perspective of this prophetic writing before considering a more intentional perspective that might better align with our guiding principles.

These are the final poetic chapters of "Proto-Isaiah"; after a short narrative, the book of Isaiah continues with words written at a much later time, as indicated by specific historical references in the text. Recall that no autograph of the book of Isaiah has been discovered, and that the earliest copy we have is from the early first century BCE. On top of that, there are thousands of differences between existing copies of the book. One prevailing conclusion by scholars is that the book was assembled by an editor from disparate writings (perhaps by the same author or school of authors). Thus, the sequence in which the writings appear may have been determined by someone at a much later time than when they were written. The only thing we can honestly assess is the end product, because we don't have anything earlier to examine. At the same time, honest assessment must include the fact that we cannot know the intentions of the author, and that the sequence in which texts are read has an influence on their interpretation.

In fact, "interpretation" may not even be the right word for what we do with such texts. We often read through the lens of our own wisdom and values, and we judge what we read based on what we already believe. The Unitarian Universalist tradition, for instance, currently recognizes six broad sources: direct experience, the words and deeds of prophetic people, ethical and spiritual wisdom from the world's religions, the call to love our neighbors in Jewish and Christian teachings, Humanist teachings, and the spiritual teachings of earth-centered traditions. The intrinsic values of Unitarian Universalism were not drawn from these sources, however; the accepted values informed the choices of sources. The whole of Jewish and Christian scripture is not compatible with Unitarian Universalism, just as the whole of Islamic or Humanist teachings is not compatible with Unitarian Universalism. Our values are the scales on which the merits of a particular text are weighed.

This is true of everyone. American Christians reading the Bible do not honestly accept everything within its pages as legitimate timeless ethical and moral truth. They all recognize, to varying degrees, that there are cultural differences between twenty-first century Western society and the ancient Middle-Eastern societies in which the biblical texts originated. They determine the validity of a particular portion of scripture not based on the fact that it is in the Bible, but based on a set of values that they already accept as guiding principles in their lives. To be sure, those values are also supported by some portions of scripture. The call to reconciliation and love in human relationships is a major theme in the Bible, for instance. Yet, this theme is in conflict with passages like Isaiah 34-35, in which it is clear that the enemies of Judah are considered to be the enemies of Yahweh, and proclaiming their destruction is justified in the name of religious superiority. This is incompatible with the values of reconciliation and love.

Even if one interprets Isaiah as saying that human beings are free to seek reconciliation and love because God will take care of those other people, this does not resolve the conflict. The Bible also suggests that human beings are supposed to be emulators of God, and a perception of God as vengeful and destructive creates some problems. Readers of the Bible have to be selective and discerning, and that selectivity and discernment derives from the values through which the pages are read. We are always going to be biased readers. We can only strive to have biases that reflect our deepest values rather than our fears.

This brings us to a couple of flaws in the writing that we have noted before, but which bear repeating. Isaiah 33 and 34 both express a reliance on a supernatural to either punish or provide. There is surely some comfort in the idea that God is going to punish the people you don't like, although laying waste to the environment may be a bit extreme. There is surely some comfort in the promise that everything will be alright for you because God will provide what you need. There are problems with the implied converse of these assumptions, though. What happens when you do not have the things that you need? Has God abandoned you? Are you wicked? Are you being punished, or are you supposed to take comfort in the eventual good things that God is going to do, even if they happen long after you are dead? What about other people who suffer? If God has promised to provide for what his people need, doesn't it follow that people who are hungry or thirsty or oppressed are not God's people, and are thus wicked? The implications of God's partiality and the impossibility of interpreting "divine will" make such promises very problematic, even though they provide some shallow comfort.

Seeing the world as Us vs Them is a natural perspective for people to adopt. We are fearful by nature, and if we let our fear be in control, then we might imagine anything and anyone as a threat. We want to be right, and thus in our anxiety about possibly being wrong, we construct a worldview in which everyone else is wrong and blind to it. Thus, we get to be right at the expense of connection with other human beings, or at the expense of ever growing beyond what we are currently able to do in the world. Our fears are not values.

The people of ancient Judah were put in a position -- as the result of warfare -- in which they were in a constant state of acute fear. Foreign soldiers were laying siege to their cities and taking them into exile. They were not in a position to live by their values. They were living desperate lives. This happened multiple times in the history of Israel, and it is happening in some places today. People cannot live by a set of deep values when their lives are constantly threatened by legitimate, real dangers. It's important to know who is safe and who is dangerous when your life is literally on the line, and it's natural to invent some stories about the people who seem dangerous. In those stories, the people you perceive as dangerous are obviously going to be the bad guys, and when you feel desperate and powerless, the most hopeful story you can tell might seem to be that a powerful superhuman force will punish the bad guys and rescue the helpless victims.

Our tendency, though, is that we sometimes see ourselves as victims when we aren't. We sometimes feel threatened when we aren't. We sometimes believe we are powerless when we aren't. And we still make up stories about the people we perceive as dangerous, even when they aren't an actual threat to our safety and well-being. We have to learn to recognize the difference between actual threats to our well-being and anxiety that originates and thrives inside our own heads. There may be a lot of different people on the planet with a lot of different beliefs and a lot of anxiety prompting them to tell stories about how the wicked will be punished and the righteous will be saved, but in actuality, our well-being depends upon the well-being of everyone else. There is no Them. There is only one big Us. This idea may be as much of a hard sell to the oppressors as it is to the oppressed, but those of us who can recognize this simple truth and start living it out in our lives can influence things toward greater hope for everyone.

This is the real power that Isaiah 34 and 35 miss: Human beings are responsible for human relationships. The problems we create will not be resolved by supernatural intervention. We are responsible for living according to our values. We are responsible for finding solutions to the challenges in our lives. We are responsible to the people around us -- the people with whom we share our lives, our communities, and our world. There is no more empowering and hopeful truth than this. It just isn't necessarily what we want to hear when we look around and see evidence that other people are not behaving very responsibly. Since we can't really control anybody but ourselves, it's tempting to want a more powerful entity to take care of all the irresponsible people in the world and reward us for being so awesome. That isn't going to happen. We need a more reliable approach to navigating our own awareness of human responsibility and the apparent lack of awareness around us.

First, we can be more aware of our values. We are constantly interpreting the things we read and hear through the lens of our values, but we don't often take the time to articulate just what those values are. When we are aware of the ideals that matter most to us, it's much easier to determine how we want to be in particular situations, and it's much clearer when we are reacting out of anxiety or fears that are not aligned with our values.

Second, we can stand to see a larger perspective. When we are willing to bear witness to the actual suffering that takes place in the lives of people in more poverty-stricken countries, for instance, or even in the lives of people in our own neighborhoods, our own sense of suffering might be more realistic. We might be less inclined to play the role of victim inappropriately, and we might be less inclined to demonize other people for petty reasons. Our lives have value, and we need not be so self-sacrificial that we deny ourselves what we need. Still, being honest about our own positions on the spectrum of human suffering can help us live more intentionally.

Third, we can recognize our role in the world. Once we know what we care about most deeply, we can start living more intentionally according to those values. When we are willing to see the realities of people's lives, we can start to see opportunities to influence things toward greater well-being. This might mean funding education for a girl on the other side of the world, or it might mean spending time with people in our own neighborhoods. Our values and our own personal passions will guide us toward ways that we can influence the world, even if it is in some seemingly small way. I personally don't like building or fixing up people's homes, but I know a lot of people who love swinging a hammer. I really love teaching and tutoring people, whether its educating people about human trafficking or tutoring folks in a GED program. Some folks would be terrified to stand up and speak to a group of people. We all have values and passions that can direct us toward meaningful action.

This is how we contribute to a better world. We cannot wait for a supernatural to sweep in and destroy all the people we choose to see as villains and create a lush and thriving landscape just for us. This is not a realistic hope. Such stories might symbolically represent something to us, but our real hope is in our values and our willingness to live intentionally by them. Our ability to recognize our values and live intentionally is not impeded by other people's lack of awareness. This doesn't have to create an Us and Them dichotomy, but it's alright to acknowledge that some of us are becoming more practiced at managing our anxiety. We may be frustrated sometimes by other people, but if we look around, we will probably also spot some people who are living more intentionally. Two or three people with shared values and a willingness to live intentionally might be able to create more together than one person can create alone. Having community with people who have shared values can be a source of hope when we start to feel angry or frustrated.

So, what are your values? What ideals matter most deeply to you?
Where are you on the spectrum of human suffering? Do you need to focus on your own well-being before you consider how you can positively influence other people's lives?
What actions do your values and passions call you toward?
Who are your potential collaborators? With whom will you build partnership and mutual support?

The answers to these questions strengthen weak hands and make feeble knees firm. The answers to these questions inspire courage and help to dismantle irrational fear. The answers to these questions help us see and hear and act and speak with greater clarity. The answers to these questions are our streams in the desert, our refreshment and empowerment in life. The answers to these questions are our Holy Way, and all are welcome to travel on it. (cf. Is 35:3-8)

Isaiah 33: Selective Well-Being Is Not Genuine Well-Being

People make enemies. Usually, people make enemies by their reactivity, when fear drives the bus and prompts people to act in ways that don't align with their deepest values. The leaders of Judah made enemies through political decisions intended to preserve power and protect resources. Unfortunately, their adversaries were operating under an equally false impression of power and well-being. The tyranny of emperors has never been sustainable in human culture, but that still doesn't stop tyrannical people from thinking that they will be the exception to the rule. Tyranny is based on fear, just as Judah's defiance of the Assyrian Empire was based on fear. Of course, when we talk about "Judah's defiance," it isn't as if an entire country rebelled with a common sense of purpose. The entire country suffered, but it was the decision of a single leader (informed by his counselors) that determined the fate of the people he governed. It would be a mistake to assume that everyone in Judah was in agreement about international relations, primarily because most people didn't know that much about the specifics of politics.

Many people are satisfied with not suffering. They don't necessarily care what is going on politically, and especially in other parts of the world, as long as they are not personally suffering. We concoct excuses why other people are suffering while we are not, and we practice behaviors designed to protect what we have and preserve the power we have over our lives and possessions. If we get too attached to having more power than some other people, more wealth than some other people, or (bluntly) more well-being than some other people, we run the risk of making enemies. Being comfortable with a status quo in which some people have greater well-being than other people is not far from being comfortable with the idea that some people are worth more than other people. This is not a path to mutual respect or peace.

Isaiah 33 issues a promise of deliverance from enemies. As many of the promises in the prophetic books, this one is empty. It is an empty promise because it relies on an external supernatural to take care of human problems. This is rather like a child expecting that a parent will clean up any messes and whisk away any consequences that result from the child's behavior. In other words, it is devoid of personal responsibility. The problems that human beings create must be addressed by human beings, and they must be addressed more responsibly than just waiting for a supernatural to decide that it's time to fix things. A supernatural is not going to be your salvation in time of trouble. If we have any salvation, it is in human beings and our capacity to make better decisions than what we have made in the past.

If we take the definition of divinity as something that is within every person -- an inherently human characteristic -- then we might create a workable interpretation of Isaiah 33. Without any attempt to retain the poetic nature of the original text,

People who seek to destroy or betray others in order to preserve an imbalance of power create only the illusion of well-being for themselves. They have to live in perpetual fear of reprisals and spend so much time protecting what they have that they never learn to use it wisely.

Our deepest, most noble selves influence us in a different direction and reveal the values that will lead to more authentic well-being. We cannot lose the voice of our deepest, most noble self; there is no way for us to blot out our truest selves completely. This voice of truth, beauty, and creativity within us shows us the path to mutual well-being, equity, and justice. The counsel of our deepest, most noble selves offers stability in our lives and in our relationships, boundless integrity with ourselves and reconciliation with others, and sustainable insights toward lives free of irrational fear.

People will lose all of the things they try to hold on to out of fearful self-interest. There is no strategy born of anxiety that will pay meaningful dividends. Peace, justice, and genuine well-being come from other sources.

If we heed the voice of our deepest, most noble self, it will be impossible for others not to notice. Our lives will look so different from the lives of those who live by fear that it cannot leave the world unchanged. 

Here are some specifics: our actions would have obvious integrity with our values and our words would be impeccably honest, we would find ways to have what we need without supporting the oppression of other people, we would seek what creates the greatest good for the greatest number of people rather than what provides immediate gratification in our own lives, we would not accept violence as an acceptable solution to human problems, and we would not justify abusive behavior by the ends it is intended to achieve. When we do what we know to be right, by the testimony of our deepest, most noble selves, we will create well-being in every dimension of our lives, and we will promote multi-dimensional well-being in the lives of the people around us. 

The world cannot be sustained by fear. There is no hope in the priority of preserving power and control of resources among an elite few. We don't have to learn what justice and well-being would look like. We already know these things. Yet, there is no point in resentment against those who have lived out of fear. The way forward creates a better world for everybody, where everyone has enough and no one has reason to be afraid.

None of this is to say that it is easy to live with integrity, or even to know what our deepest values are if we have never really thought about it. It takes time and practice to allow our deepest, most noble selves to have greater influence in our lives than the irrational fear and anxiety by which we are accustomed to living. Our greatest strength is that we already know what justice and well-being would look like. We just operate under the impression that it would be impossible to have true justice and well-being for everyone. Maybe we have to start small -- in our own lives and in our own neighborhoods -- so that we can develop greater hope for more people. We know what justice and well-being look like. We just have to commit ourselves to creating that to whatever extent we can.

Thus, it is not the case that power and wealth and well-being are bad things. When our goal becomes preserving our own power and protecting what we have, then we go off the rails and cease to have integrity with our guiding principles. However, it is possible for us to recognize the resources at our disposal and allow our deepest values to determine what we do with those resources. The reality is that some people have more power than other people. Some people have more money than other people. Some people have more intelligence than other people. Some people have advantages in some facet of well-being that others do not have. The point is not to reject what we have haphazardly, but to use the resources at our disposal to create something better than current reality. Rather than trying to preserve and protect what we have (or gain more to hoard for ourselves -- another fear-based reaction), we could be using what we have in ways that align with our deepest values.

Nor is this an entirely selfless position. The underlying message of Isaiah 33 is that what some people think of as security and well-being is just an illusion. Piling up wealth and power for oneself isn't going to create lasting meaningful benefits. True well-being for ourselves requires the well-being of the people around us. When we share our resources with our own neighborhoods, we create better environments for our own lives. When we share our resources with other parts of the world, we create a better future to live into. Our deepest, most noble selves do not encourage us to sacrifice our own well-being for the benefit of others, but to sacrifice our false sense of scarcity and our irrational fears about other people and ourselves, so that we might have genuine well-being in our own lives.

Isaiah 31-32: A Vision of Justice and Righteousness

Isaiah 31 is more of the same, and while we could cover the same ground again, it's most likely sufficient to say that no supernatural has ever protected, delivered, spared, or rescued anyone, just as no supernatural has ever caused anyone to perish. If any people have ever fallen by the sword, it was most certainly the sword of a mortal. If any people have ever been oppressed or put to forced labor, it was most certainly other human beings who were the oppressors. If any people have ever found peace, it was most certainly because of human conscience and will that they did so.

Thus we arrive at Isaiah 32, in which we find some words of substance. It seems that human beings in every time have promoted the idea that violence could be justified if one's heart was pure or one's motivations were righteous. It seems that there have always been human beings who propagated the belief that some people are more deserving of well-being than others. Even now, there are those who countenance bringing harm to some people so that the status quo of others can be preserved, and it is typically those who have wealth and power who find it easy to advocate for things to stay just as they are. Such people exist in religious and non-religious circles alike, and as we have seen, those who consider the Bible to be authoritative have plenty of evidence in their corner to defend the idea that those who have wealth and power were granted their status by an almighty supernatural.

What shall we do with Isaiah 32, then? Obviously, the authors are predicting a future time in which a competent and righteous ruler appointed by Yahweh will govern impeccably. That isn't likely to happen. Rather than dismiss the words entirely, however, we can attend to what the outcome will supposedly be of this ruler's righteousness. What fruit will righteousness bear? What will the practical result be?

Justice is a tricky word now. We have accepted too many varied definitions of that word for it to be of much use. We call it "justice" when a person is sent to prison as the result of a guilty verdict. We call it "poetic justice" when someone who has brought harm to another experiences similar harm. We call it "social justice" when we politically defend the legal rights of people who have been marginalized. Sometimes, we call something "justice" if it works out in our favor, or at least if someone we don't like suffers. We have to read further into the passage if we want to put valid meaning to the word.

Aside from the symbolic rhetoric the authors use to demonstrate what righteousness and justice look like, there are a few specific things that stand out. By contrasting noble ideals with foolish ideals, the authors suggest that the results of righteousness and justice are that people have plenty of food and water (Is 32:6), and the poor are uplifted (Is 32:7). In other words, the practical results of righteousness and justice are that people have sustenance -- that everyone has enough of what is needed for their physical and economic well-being.  

The authors interrupt with a warning to complacent women, which we could extrapolate as a general warning against complacency, understanding that whatever consequences result from complacency are natural consequences and not supernatural punishments. After that, though, there is a little more clarity about the practical results of what the authors are calling righteousness and justice. People will experience peace, trust, and safety as the consequences of righteous and just decisions. So, in short, the vision cast here is a world in which everyone has enough and no one has reason to fear.

We know a few things from our personal experience and the testimony of history. Violence begets violence. It is not possible to bring harm to some people for the well-being of other people without provoking greater violence, preventing trust, and/or thwarting a sense of safety. Violence cannot lead to well-being, and violence cannot be a tool of righteousness and justice, at least not in the sense that the authors of Isaiah 32 are using those terms. This isn't to say that the authors of Isaiah realized that. They promote violence left and right. Perhaps this is one reason they never saw the realization of the vision they cast. If we have learned nothing else from history, we have at least learned this.

We also know that "righteousness" and "justice" for only some people is not really righteous or just. The specific people mentioned as the beneficiaries of righteousness and justice in Isaiah 32 are the poor, the hungry, and the thirsty. If there are any who are made poor, hungry, or thirsty as a result of our decisions, or who remain poor, hungry, or thirsty as a result of our decisions, we cannot consider our decisions to be righteous or just, not by the standards put forth in Isaiah 32 at least. If we envision a world characterized by justice, we must build that on a foundation that meets the needs of the most needy people -- that provides a way for every person to have enough.

This is, admittedly, a tall order. It's no wonder the authors of Isaiah (and many people in the twenty-first century) see this as a super-human task -- something they expect God to be able to accomplish, but that they see as way beyond human capability. We may be tempted to think this because we recognize that the vision is too great for one person, or even a small group of people, to achieve. We also may be tempted to reject a vision of the world in which everyone has enough and no one has reason to fear because we think that this will mean that we personally will have less. We might be so accustomed to a way of life with conveniences and luxuries that come at other people's expense that we find it hard to imagine what our lives might be like if we were to take such a vision of the world seriously. I admit that when I think about the oppression I support by some of the purchases I make, I feel overwhelmed sometimes because I don't know what I can possibly do differently without upending my life and withdrawing from society. Even that wouldn't really do anything to end oppression, it would just alleviate my sense of culpability.

There is still hope for a world in which everyone has access to the food and water they need, and in which there are no disenfranchised or marginalized people. Such a world is not a short-term vision. It will take a long time and the commitment of a lot of people, but we can participate in creating such a vision. Some of what we can do might include our choices about what kinds of products we purchase, or it might include contributing to an organization that meets the real needs of people in nations where a few dollars goes a long way. I believe that some piece of what we can do involves contributing some of our resources to meeting the needs of the people right on our doorsteps, our own neighborhoods and communities. Whenever we contribute to greater well-being in the life of someone who might fall into those categories of marginalized, hungry, thirsty, or poor, we contribute a little bit toward creating a better world.

Honestly, I don't think that such a vision can be made manifest without some radical changes in global economics and the participation of the people who control the lion's share of resources. Whatever our own political and social influence might be, we have to be willing to use that influence to create the kind of world we envision. I suspect that using our influence responsibly feels most natural when we are living the kinds of lives that exemplify the kind of world we envision. As we assert definitions of what is "just" and "right" founded on the well-being of those people who are most often overlooked, we set the stage for a shift in awareness. As we commit ourselves to responsible consumption, and as we commit a portion of our resources toward a vision of well-being for all, we also contribute to the propagation of a new mental model for sustainable living. As we live intentionally in a spirit of abundance, we help to dismantle the fear of scarcity that fuels so much of the violence and oppression perpetuated by people in the world today. As we choose to live differently, we give other people permission to live differently too. And as we live our lives more intentionally, we more easily become aware of opportunities to live out the principles we value most.

There are enough visions of the world built on fear (entitlement, greed, scarcity, or whatever other names fear goes by), and they have not created anything approaching justice, peace, or sustainable well-being. One person cannot do everything, but one person living intentionally with a compelling vision for the world can inspire other people to do the same. This is how the world changes. Be inspiring.

Isaiah 30: The Hazardous Influence of Anxiety

One popular way to interpret some of the promises and threats attributed to Yahweh in the Hebrew scriptures is that Yahweh is a subtle and hidden god who artfully orchestrates circumstances and influences behavior so that his promises and threats are fulfilled in ways that allow his action to remain secret, behind the scenes. Rather than any blatant acts of supernatural power, people claim to see God at work in the actions of human beings and natural processes. The strange thing is that the flow of nature and the behavior of human beings don't need to be explained through some supernatural influence. Nature and people can be understood just fine without assuming that there is a deity behind the curtain, subtly ensuring that what he wants will come to pass.

When the authors of Isaiah were writing passages like the collection of disparate writings in Isaiah 30, their perspective of the world was that, whatever happened, Yahweh was in control. If something bad happened, then Yahweh was punishing people for something, and if something good happened, then Yahweh was rewarding people for something. The only real challenge in life was to figure out what Yahweh wanted, and then to do it. In this ancient and superstitious time, it was wholeheartedly believed that a people's supernatural would respond with clear answers when asked a sincere question. Since Yahweh never communicated directly with people except in folklore, Jewish priests even had their own version of casting bones or reading tea leaves in order to determine what Yahweh wanted. They called it "consulting the Urim and the Thummim," and it was a form of casting lots to get a Yes or No answer to a question, kind of like a sophisticated coin toss. If Yahweh reliably communicated clearly and directly with people, they would never have needed to devise such a method of "consultation."

Of course, we know more now about the psychological factors and ideomotor effects that influence supposed means of communicating with something beyond the natural world, and we know that human beings invent interpretations for events that often have little to do with the actual causes of the effects we perceive. We are, by nature, creative entities. If we want to understand the world around us, though, we have to be more honest than those who attribute things to a supernatural who is willing to bend reality to his will. Armies do not attack because a deity told them to, but because politically minded human beings decide to wage war. Human beings do not wage war because a supernatural has influenced their thinking, but because they believe that violent action is the best way to get what they want. When an ancient city was burned or besieged, it wasn't because a deity was lashing out or fighting alongside a military force. People are capable of causing destruction without any help from a god.

What shall we make of these rather disparaging words of precaution in Isaiah 30? A fearful people react to their anxiety by fleeing to a powerful neighbor, Egypt. Now, it is quite possible that negative consequences of this action were already known at the time this passage was written. When biblical prophecy reveals a particular outcome, often it was written after the fact, even though it was composed in a way that appears to be a prediction of the future. Still, the implication is that if the people had consulted Yahweh, they would have known better. The chapter goes on to suggest that Yahweh is taking the people's behavior rather personally; he seems to be feeling a bit rejected. According to the authors of these passages, the people were not interested in truth, but only wanted to hear affirmations. Comfort and positive promises were valued over honest and challenging admonitions. Then, in Isaiah 30:18-26, a promise is made that Yahweh will stop hiding and will communicate more clearly with people. Like a contrite abuser, he will "[bind] up the injuries of his people and [heal] the wounds inflicted by his blow" (Is 30:26b). There is no indication that this ever actually happened, of course.

In the absence of an external deity (or any supernatural) communicating with us, directly or indirectly, the lessons we might draw from this chapter seem to stem from the dangers of reacting in anxiety -- allowing our anxiety to control us rather than the other way around. When we put our anxiety in the driver's seat, we fail to pay attention to what we already know, we fail to assess our circumstances honestly, and we often create more trouble for ourselves. When we manage our anxiety well, we can better tune in to our guiding principles and our values, and we can more thoughtfully discern appropriate responses to the challenges we face. Anxiety has no integrity, and when we let our anxiety run rampant, our only real motivation is making the anxiety go away. Values and guiding principles often go out the window when we get to that point. If we want to be intentional people who act with integrity to our guiding principles, we have to learn how to manage our anxiety.

Some would suggest that the first step in managing anxiety is recognizing the times when we give control to our anxiety. Like the people of Judah reprimanded in Isaiah 30, one common reaction is to run away. Sometimes, we might make a choice to distance ourselves from a toxic situation or person. That sort of thoughtful response is not the same as fleeing from a perceived threat before we've given ourselves a chance to think. So, the goal isn't necessarily to always stand in the midst of our challenges and take whatever comes our way. Rather, the goal is to make choices with integrity to our deep guiding principles.

Standing and facing our challenges is another reasonable option. Sometimes, in the grip of our anxiety, we automatically fight back against perceived threats. This doesn't have to be physical (although it could be). Verbal arguments, and even trying to convince someone to admit that we're right are reactive ways of engaging in conflict. When our anxiety prompts the action, we can be pretty sure that it's not going to line up with our guiding principles. There are times when our guiding principles prompt us to take a stand for something. This looks and feels different from the conflict we create out of anxiety. When anxiety is in control, we are out of control. When we understand our values and act with integrity to those values, we can take a stand with a sense of purpose, groundedness, and calm.

In addition to fleeing or fighting, there are a couple of other ways that anxiety shows up in our behavior. Sometimes we shift into "overfunctioning" -- trying to fix situations that aren't ours to fix, trying to manage other people's problems for them, or taking on excessive responsibility. When we want our feelings of anxiety to go away, we can go overboard with our efforts to do something -- anything -- to take care of whatever we think is causing our anxiety. This is harmful behavior. It hurts us because it takes on more than what we can reasonably manage, and it hurts other people because it allows them to "underfunction," which is another way that people typically react to anxiety.

As you might imagine, underfunctioning is the opposite of overfunctioning. When we underfunction, we pretend that we are not responsible for our own feelings and behaviors. We let someone else try to fix our problems, while we pretend that we aren't capable of taking responsibility in our own lives. When we underfunction, we often think of ourselves as victims, blaming other people or our circumstances for preventing us from living the lives we want to live. The truth is that if we aren't living with integrity to our own values, that's on us. Anxiety can make it seem otherwise, but when we allow ourselves to be honest and thoughtful, it's easier to recognize our role in creating our lives.

Sometimes, we have a combination of reactions. In Isaiah 30, the people of Judah ran away from the hostile military forces without thinking, and then they slipped into underfunctioning by asking Egypt to solve their problems for them, assuming that they were too weak to do so for themselves. To be fair, their anxiety was in response to a very real threat. There are people today in many parts of the world who are running from extreme violence, and it makes perfect sense for their first priority to be to get to safety. Their anxiety about their own lives being in danger is very real. In such situations, automatic pilot reactions can help people survive.

Most of our anxiety is not in response to real threats, however. Most of our fear is concocted in our own minds, and we still react as if the threats are real. We aren't going to stop being anxious, but we can learn to recognize when we start feeling like fighting back, running away, hyperactively fixing everything, or divesting of our own responsibility for our lives. In those situations, we can't reliably seek the counsel of a supernatural, but we can look within ourselves and determine if what we are doing really matches our values. When we have a clear picture of the kind of people we want to be, we can check our anxious reactions against that vision of a best possible version of ourselves. If we are willing to be thoughtful, we can ask ourselves what would better represent our guiding principles. Maybe getting out of a particular situation or taking a stand are the kinds of things we need to do in order to have integrity with our guiding principles. If so, we can choose to do so thoughtfully and intentionally rather than anxiety-fueled reactivity.

One last thing to keep in mind. Reacting is easy. Letting our anxiety run the show takes almost no effort at all. Lots of people live from reaction to reaction, and they don't know any other way to manage their anxiety. They just do all that they can to make the anxiety go away. Having a clear sense of our guiding principles and our deep values is a little more challenging. Living with integrity and intentionality requires a little more of us than reacting to anxiety requires. The payoff is that we get to create the lives we most want, that we get to be the kind of people we most want to be. We may never hit 100% of our vision of a best possible version of ourselves, but we can only journey toward that vision by recognizing when we are shifting into auto-pilot, checking in with our guiding principles and our values, and adjusting our responses to life accordingly. We already know what kind of people we most want to be. We just need to be willing to pay attention to our own reactions and adjust our course when our anxiety causes us to swerve out of alignment with the things we care about most.