John 4:1-42 Conquering Shame with Truth and Inspiring Others

In John 4, we proceed with what may be a familiar story about Jesus' encounter with a Samaritan woman at Jacob's Well. A seemingly editorial feature can be seen in the parenthetical explanations about various details in the story. Some things apparently required more explanation than others, but we can imagine that the original audience would have known that needing to go through Samaria was culturally distasteful. If the Jesus character speaks freely to people who are culturally unclean, or "less than" people, then either this behavior is unique to the Jesus character or it serves as a model for human behavior.

The text itself paints a picture of Jesus as a fairly unique individual. He apparently has some psychic ability, to be able to know specifics about the woman's life that she had not shared, and the authors imply that he does not require physical food but is rather sustained by spiritually-motivated action. In the text, the Jesus character claims a unique identity for himself as the Messiah. If we were to leave things there, however, there would be little value in our lives. If we adopt the perspective that Jesus is used here as an exemplar of human behavior, we must get past the obviously unique characteristics the authors grant him. So, we should not try to emulate psychic powers, and we should not claim a unique position for ourselves in a spiritual hierarchy.

What human behaviors can we see at work in the story, then? To start, there is the blatant issue of prejudice. Samaritans are obviously undesirables, based on the context of the story. There are complex historical reasons for Jewish animosity toward Samaritans. To begin with, Samaritans were not of pure Jewish lineage, but had intermarried with people of various ethnicities, which made them inferior people in the eyes of the Jews. The Samaritans had their own temple and their own religious tradition that had branched away from "proper" Judaism, influenced no doubt by the Samaritan propensity for being conquered by foreign powers. Samaria was synonymous with impurity and sacrilege in the eyes of many ancient Jews.

The Jesus character cares nothing for these prejudices. Human beings are human beings. There is no judgment for the lineage or the religious practices of Samaritans (suggesting that the authors had a more virtuous position as well). Yes, Jesus does make a snide comment about salvation coming from the Jews, but his general demeanor is not judgmental. Instead, the Jesus character looks ahead to a time in which spiritual identity will not be connected to geographic location. Indeed, the book of John was written after the Roman destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, and apparently the authors interpreted this upheaval as an opportunity to redefine the center of spiritual identity. One need not go to a particular mountain to find divinity; one need only look within oneself.

There are essentially two things taught in this passage. The first has to do with spiritual identity. Whatever you call divine, divinity is not a physical thing. Personal identity is first and foremost about honesty. Identifying with a particular tradition frivolously is of no real value. To connect your identity thoughtlessly to a particular place or even a particular culture is to give away some of your personal responsibility. Taking appropriate responsibility in your life requires telling the truth about who you are. You cannot bring your authentic self forward if you are pretending to be someone you aren't.

For the Samaritan woman, there were plenty of untrue things that she could have believed about herself -- things that others most likely had claimed about her. As a Samaritan, she was "impure" and potentially "blasphemous." She also had a string of relationships that had the potential to imbue her with shame. What is wrong with me that I have had five husbands and am now in a relationship with someone else? After things went badly in my first relationship, I'm 'damaged goods.' No one will want me now. I am lucky with whatever I get at this point. In fact, the profound shame with which she lives is implied by her late-morning trip to the well, after all the "respectable" women have already come and gone. There are plenty of lies she could be telling about herself, plenty of things on which she could base her identity that would not reflect her authentic self.

We do very similar things. Sometimes we adopt identities that are handed to us by society, and sometimes we just make things up about ourselves. We feel shame because of the things that have gone differently than we would have liked, and we often blame ourselves for things that were not entirely ours to control. This is not a true reflection of who we are. Shame does not create anything worthwhile; it only keeps us from bringing ourselves forward fully.

The message here is that you know better. You know that there is more to you than a failed relationship, or a whole series of failed relationships. You know that there is more to you than getting fired from a job. You know that there is more to you than what other people say about your ethnicity or religion. You might know what it would be like if you showed up as a best possible version of yourself. It's wise to acknowledge the circumstances of your life honestly, but they don't have to define you. When you are willing to be honest, the truth about you is that you are enough. You are capable of being your authentic self without all the false pieces of identity you've accumulated over the years.

Here is the second thing taught in this passage: If you look around you, you'll see an awful lot of people wrestling with the same things you wrestle with. You'll see a sea of people who are living with shame and anxiety rather than honestly showing up as themselves. It's good to feed yourself -- to develop your own integrity and intentionality. When we enter into other people's lives with the ability to tell the truth about ourselves, we can influence others toward greater well-being. When we are willing to stop allowing shame to govern how we see ourselves, we can influence others to do the same. Not everyone will get it. Not everyone will be willing to tell the truth about themselves, because sometimes it's easier to give up personal responsibility to a false identity. Some people will see your way of being and take notice, though. Some people will recognize that they could be engaging in life differently -- defining themselves by their values and guiding principles rather than the labels other people put on them.

So, spirit and truth. We can look within ourselves to define our deep values and guiding principles, and we can be honest about our authentic selves. We are not restricted to identities derived from shame. And we are influencers. How we show up has an influence on other people's lives. What we do for ourselves cannot be just about us, because human beings are relational by nature. Because of our connection with others, what we create in spirit and truth will have meaning for people beyond just ourselves.

There are three things that are exemplified in Jesus' behavior here that can offer some guidance about how we can be living water -- or manifest a best possible version of ourselves more often. First, he is non-judgmental. He is unwilling to allow shame to be a part of how he sees others, just as he does not allow shame to define himself. Even as he is honest about the Samaritan woman's home life, he does not deem her unworthy as a result. He engages with her as a human being of worth and dignity. It doesn't matter what color people's skin is, what ethnic or cultural background they demonstrate, what religious identity they embrace, or what sexuality they embody. No human being deserves our derision or shame. When we judge other people, we reinforce our own self-judgment. When we are willing to see the inherent worth and dignity in others, it is easier to see our own.

Second, the Jesus of this story is willing to engage. He does not simply look kindly upon the woman and smile. He engages with her about her life and suggests some possibility about her identity. He offers her hope. Likewise, we can express what we see of value in other people, not to force on them a positive false identity to replace a negative one, but to open the door of possibility. We can sincerely express what we appreciate in others. In this story, Jesus does not demand that the woman see things the way he does; he states his perspective and allows her the freedom to define herself.

Third, the Jesus of this story speaks about what is important to him. When he is offered food by the disciples, he seizes on the opportunity to express what he cares about most -- his values and his passions. It is as if he is saying, "This is what feeds my soul." Of course, Jesus is made to suggest that the disciples should care about what he cares about, but this is a characteristic of their relationship. We don't have to insist that other people be passionate about the things that feed our souls. When we are willing to let people know what we value, though, it has the potential to bolster our own commitment, inspire others, and perhaps even find collaborators in building the kind of world that we most want to live in.

We see two layers of possibility in this tale, then. First layer: Use introspection to define your deep values and guiding principles, and let these things define the truth about your identity. Be aware of the multitude of people around you, wrestling with the same issues of shame that you wrestle with and just as in need of hope as you. Second layer: All of those human beings have inherent worth and dignity. It doesn't matter what their lives or circumstances have been like. If you are willing to engage, you can grow in connection and live into your authentic self more easily. When you engage, speak about the things that matter most to you -- your values and guiding principles, your vision for yourself, your creative purpose and personal life dream. This is how we build a better world.

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A Little Experiment: Be aware of your shame. Notice the next time you find yourself thinking or saying something prejudiced about a person based on skin color, ethnicity, sexuality, or religion. Consider, to what fear is that prejudice connected? What judgment about yourself is connected to your judgment of that person? What would it take for you to see the inherent worth and dignity of that person?

Another Little Experiment: Be more aware of your shame. Notice the next time you limit yourself or pass judgment on yourself. On what is this self-critique based? Are you being honest? How does your personal shame prevent you from living out your deepest values (or how does it prevent you from being a best possible version of yourself)? Are you OK with that?

One More Little Experiment: Be living water. What feeds your soul? What is it that nourishes you emotionally or psychologically? How does this nourishment reflect your guiding principles? Tell someone in your life. Ask them what nourishes them.

John 3:22-36 Religious Privilege and Being "from Within"

When a person comes from a particular culture with a particular set of traditions and practices, it can be shocking to encounter a person from a different culture with a different set of traditions and practices. Sometimes, our reaction is to find things that look similar and assume that other people think like us -- we validate our own perspective by equating other people's perspective with our own. There might be actual similarities between cultures, and noticing this can be a very connecting observation. However, I have also had some conversations in which people point out how "Christian" my worldview is, because they are Christian and they assume that God is working through all people and situations, no matter what those other people believe.

On the one hand, this is generous of the Christian in question. Assuming that people are like you is much more connecting than assuming that people are so different that they are dangerous. This other extreme is still an unfortunate reality throughout the world -- the Other seems so dangerous that some people justify violent reaction. On the other hand, assuming that people are like you -- for instance, saying things like, "That's a very Christian thing to do," when someone engages in an act of kindness or compassion -- forces an identity onto another person. Perhaps in that person's mind it is a very Buddhist thing to do, or a very Muslim thing to do, or a very Wiccan thing to do, or a very human thing to do. To equate everything good with one's own identity and incorporate all good acts under the umbrella of one's own subculture robs other people of their identity and ignores the diversity of humanity. It's also very difficult to learn anything new when you assume that you already know why people do the things they do.

As human beings, we learn to look at the world through a preferred set of lenses, and we have a tendency to focus on the things that affirm that perspective and dismiss the things that challenge it. When we encounter data, our first impulse is often to find a way to neatly fit that into our "mental model" of the world so that we don't have to change in any significant way. A believer recently told me that the similarities between the basic teachings of world religions convinced him that there was a God. Aside from ignoring some vast differences between world religions in order to arrive at this conclusion, this individual had a belief in God before learning about some similarities between world religions. Seeing some data about similar teachings and ignoring some other data about differences, this belief was reinforced. This individual didn't change religious identity, though. He remained convinced that his religion's understanding of God was more correct than the views held by practitioners of other religions. The similarities of beliefs were held up as proof that his opinion of God was right, and that other religions had a glimmer of truth. His beliefs were still the measuring stick by which truth was measured. Where there were differences, the other religions (and other denominations) were obviously the ones that had gotten it wrong.

At a certain level, we can't help this sort of thing. Being aware of it, though, might help us to take in a little bit more information and maybe even be a little more honest with ourselves about what we take in. Of course, I write this from my own perspective that seems to be confirmed by my experience. No one else can force me to evaluate data in a particular way. I am the only person who can ultimately assess whether my perspective is working for me or not, but when my experience of life is not going the way I would prefer, chances are good that something is amiss with my perspective. Knowing that may help me to grow and change when I need to.

At the end of John 3, Jesus and John the Baptist are in geographic proximity, and some of John's followers interpret this as a turf war. They had a particular mental model about authority and popularity that suggested that if John lost followers to Jesus, then it would mean that John was somehow less of a leader, less capable, less trustworthy. In this passage, John pretty much agrees with them. In rather Highlander-esque fashion, John suggests that "there can be only one." From the Christian perspective, this passage legitimizes the uniqueness of Jesus and the necessity of being obedient. Without assuming anything more about the ancient writers, and without forcing any Christians into a different label, we might draw a different message if we look through a different set of lenses.

To be clear, we start off with some assumptions about reality. Everyone brings their own assumptions to the text, particularly to a text that is held by some to be sacred. Sometimes it seems strange that I am still commenting on a text that holds one perspective when my (conflicting) perspective holds that there is no supernatural and that the closest thing to divinity with which we can connect is within us, not external to us. Part of the reason this seems strange is because Christian privilege in the United States means that the Bible is rarely used to promote another belief system. People who are not Jewish or Christian typically don't try to derive any value from biblical texts. Another aspect of Christian privilege, though, is that the Bible and its supposed contents are constantly present in American life, particularly in political debates and matters of public policy. It seems worthwhile to approach the text with a set of assumptions that might broaden its potential message.

Delving into the text itself, then, it is obvious that some of the nomenclature is derived from a particular view of reality. Spiritual things are not "above," but we might consider them to be "within." The "one from above," then, is the person who is connected with a deepest, most noble self -- a person who has identified a set of deep values and guiding principles and who lives more intentionally by those things. "Obedience" and "disobedience" in this context would equate with authenticity and inauthenticity. The more authentic person lives with less anxiety and greater purpose, or intentionality. Less authentic people are more anxious, less thoughtful, and more prone to blame others or circumstances for their experience of life. Lacking integrity between our values and our actions creates more suffering and robs us of well-being.

The one whose decisions and behaviors are derived from within -- from a set of deep values and clear guiding principles -- is better able to resist being reactive and can influence others toward greater well-being. The one who habitually reacts based on a set of default behaviors is less able to contribute to a better world, and is less able to recognize the value of acting from a set of deep values and clear guiding principles. The very idea will seem foreign and misguided.  

Whoever accepts the premise that it is better to act from a set of deep values and clear guiding principles, also recognizes connection to a deepest, most noble self -- an integral aspect of being human that is more stable than the irrational fears that often prompt our habitual reactivity. Connection with one's deepest, most noble self yields a more full and satisfying experience of life. Living out of habitual reactivity yields a life of experiencing the same misery over and over again (John 3:31-36).

Considering this, the sentiment of the John the Baptist character in John 3:29-30 becomes significant. When we are connected to our deepest, most noble selves, and when we are living with integrity to a set of deep values and clear guiding principles, we don't want other people to suffer. We don't revel in feeling superior. We don't think of ourselves as "better than" others. When other people get it, we can celebrate that. When other people start living out of their own deep values and clear guiding principles, our joy can be more complete. This may mean that other people accomplish things in their lives that we don't get to accomplish, that they have access to arenas that we do not. Life is not a competition against one another. Life is a collaboration. When one person experiences greater well-being, others experience greater well-being, too.

It bears repeating that well-being doesn't equate with wealth. This is not about some kind of strange trickle-down economic formula. Well-being is holistic, and it is primarily tied with being less anxious and more empowered to create a better life and a better world. Certainly, having a certain threshold of financial well-being helps to meet basic needs and reduces anxiety. As we are able to help break the cycle of poverty and provide for healthy food, clean water, and safe shelter for the people with whom we share this planet, we do indeed create greater well-being. After a certain point, however, greater wealth does not bring greater happiness or alleviate anxiety. Some wealthy people are profoundly reactive and anxious. Well-being is about our experience of life, not wealth in and of itself.

Perhaps connection with our deepest, most noble selves helps us be more curious about other beliefs, rather than feeling threatened by them. Perhaps clarifying our values and guiding principles also helps us have clarity about whatever amount of privilege we might have because of our skin color, beliefs, or sexuality. Certainly, living with greater intentionality and integrity can help us dismantle some self-sabotaging behaviors that keep us in a state of habitual reactivity. We can be more authentically ourselves, and thus potentially make it seem safe for others to be more authentically themselves as well. We might also begin to recognize that when others act with intention and integrity and create greater well-being in their lives and in the lives of people around them, they aren't acting "like us" -- they are acting like themselves. If we are going to put labels on people's behavior, maybe it's best for us to label them as human, and acknowledge how much we all have in common based on just that one category.

A Little Experiment: Consider your privilege. There are lots of things that can give people a privileged status in society. Skin color, sexuality, and religious identity are three of the most commonly acknowledged facets of privilege. What is one thing that you take for granted about how you are accepted in society that people of a different skin color, or sexuality, or religion are not automatically granted?

(If you're having trouble with the idea of religious privilege, you can see a list about Christian privilege in the U.S. here. Peggy McIntosh also has an insightful list of white privilege here. A quick list about heterosexual privilege can be found here.)

Another Little Experiment: Celebrate. Are there any people you know who has accomplished something or has created greater well-being for themselves and the people around them? Acknowledge them. Celebrate them. And let it be sincere. Let your joy for them be complete.

One More Little Experiment: Be curious. The next time someone does something or says something you find admirable, ask them why. Don't assume that they are guided by the same things as you, or that your perspective is the only valid one. They might have the same beliefs as you, but let them express that rather than assuming agreement.

John 3:1-21 Waking Up

One of the biggest problems with reading the Bible is that so much of it was written a bit cryptically. The language is simple, but laced with mystical terminology that doesn't have a clear meaning. Most likely, those more mystical words were defined in the context of a community, with a particular culture of terminology. The intent of the writing was not to convey meaning, but to provide a framework on which meaning could be placed. So, the language of the writing is subject to interpretation, especially by people who aren't part of the community in which the original words were written. Lots of scholars, preachers, and everyday believers have their own opinions about what the biblical text means, but since no one is a part of the ancient community in which all the biblical terminology was given meaning, it becomes a matter of whose opinion is most convincing.

Just as a reminder, in John 3, Jesus and Nicodemus are characters in a story written by someone in the late first century or early second century. This is not a transcription of a historical conversation. No one can legitimately claim, "Jesus really said that," or "Jesus never said that," because no one has any clue what Jesus said, or even if he said anything at all. Our goal is not to prove anything about Jesus; our goal is to find some value for our own lives. I'm not going to pretend that I know what the original authors intended by their words. I suspect that I probably wouldn't agree with their worldview, since people two thousand years ago they believed an awful lot about the world that we now know just isn't true. So, instead of pretending to express the authors' meaning, I'm going to translate the terminology of John 3 into something that I think is more useful.

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Now, there was an important spiritual teacher named Nicodemus. He came to Jesus at night in secret and said to him, "Teacher, we know that you are an authentically good person; for no one can do the good things you do without being empowered by goodness."

Jesus answered him, "Listen carefully, no one can be aware of the significant action of good in the world without being awake. No one can see the full potential for well-being without being conscious."

Nicodemus said to him, "Are we not awake now? Are we not conscious? Does a person get out of bed and go through the day and yet remain asleep?"

Jesus said, "Some do. Listen carefully, no one can experience abundance of life without being awake to the self. Physical wakefulness is only partial wakefulness. Those who are aware of their deepest, most noble selves are more fully awake. Doing those things that reflect intentionality and integrity with one's deepest self has greater power and impact in the world than merely satisfying physical needs.

"Do not be astonished that I am telling you to wake up! Once you are fully conscious, a whole new process of growth begins. The wind blows all around, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. The wind isn't concerned about end results; it is simply wind. So it is with those who have awareness and integrity to their guiding principles and their deepest, most noble self."

Nicodemus said to him, "How is this possible?"

Jesus answered him, "Are you a spiritual teacher, and yet you do not understand these things? Listen carefully, we are only able to teach what we know and have experienced, yet those who are still asleep cannot understand what we say. If I have told you about the most basic things and you do not accept it, how can you accept any deeper truths? No one has truly delved into themselves except the person who returns enlightened. And just as the old story says Moses lifted up a bronze serpent in the wilderness [to magically heal poisoned Israelites by presenting a visible object] so must the awakened be lifted up as an example, that whoever is willing to emulate the awakened can find healing for the poison of fear, and discover within themselves the way of integrity and intentionality. If you believe in the possibility of living without irrational fear, you will have a more abundant experience of life."

For our deepest, most noble selves do not lead us to harm, but lead us out of our habit of being consumed by fear and into a deeper, more fulfilling experience. This is possible for everyone. Indeed, our deepest, most noble selves lead us toward greater well-being for everyone, even those who are still asleep.

Awareness is not a weapon. Belief in the freedom to exhibit intentionality and integrity based on your guiding principles without being limited by irrational fear "saves" you from your default future -- changes the course of your life from reactive to responsive. Those who emulate the awakened and trust in their own ability to be more conscious have hope; but those who accept their default future remained trapped in their fearfulness and reactivity. This is the real tragedy, that their deepest, most noble selves are available to them to open the way toward a more fulfilling experience of life, yet they are so accustomed to fear that they ignore the opportunity. For those who see the world as a threatening place do not want to be left vulnerable, and yet some part of them feels shame and guilt over the harm they cause because of their fear.

But those who practice truth recognize that the true character of every person desires well-being for all, and their action gives meaning to their belief in themselves and in others, so that it may be clearly seen that people are capable of being guided by a sense of well-being and creativity that runs deeper than their fear -- that another way is possible for human beings.

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A Little Experiment: Wake up. What is one little thing you can do to be more aware of your own vision for yourself and for the world? Try spending 10 minutes in silence and solitude every day for a week. Don't judge what comes up for you, just be aware of it. This is the beginning of connection with yourself. 10 minutes not long enough for you? Give yourself permission to spend more time in introspection.

Another Little Experiment: Know thyself. Write down your guiding principles -- the things that matter most to you in life. These are not the ways that you think you need to protect yourself from a hostile world. These are the things that you believe would make the world better for everyone. How do you most want to show up? What do you want to contribute to a better world? Write down your guiding principles, even if you aren't living by them very well right now, and read over them a few times this week.

One More Little Experiment: Be the wind. How often do you not do something you think is right because you are afraid of what other people will think of you? Try pushing through that fear and acting with integrity. This is not about being impulsive or letting yourself react out of anxiety. This is about acting with integrity to your deep values or guiding principles. If you haven't clarified your deep values yet, don't try this experiment.

John 2:13-25 Building a Temple in Three Days

In 70 CE, the Romans destroyed the Jewish temple in Jerusalem and scattered the Jews across the Roman Empire to disrupt their persistent pattern of insurrection. The gospel of John was written some time after this event, so when the authors relate a story about the Temple, they are looking back through the lens of history. The Temple has been destroyed and can no longer be a focus of worship for the Jewish people. Jews manage this reality by shifting toward local synagogues rather than a singular geographic focus. The Christian sect believes that it has a more meaningful response.

Thus, the story of Jesus at the Temple in John 2 has a couple of underlying messages about Judaism, at least as it was historically expressed. First, there is a clear message that the system was corrupt. People were profiting from the spiritual practices of others, and this compromised the integrity of Jewish spiritual identity. Second, the system focused on the wrong things. The temple building was not intended to be the most important feature of spiritual identity, but it had become so. The perspective of people -- particularly people in power -- was so skewed that they missed the very point of having a spiritual identity in the first place.

When Jesus raises a ruckus, then, the authors are commenting on how corrupt and misguided the Jewish system had become. They connect this to a resurrection legend and equate Jesus with the "real" temple where sacrificial offerings are made to a supernatural. We might interpret some different meanings from the story if we start out with a different set of assumptions, and we have been approaching the stories in John from the perspective that the Jesus character is in some way an exemplar.

What observations can we make about Jesus in this story? He clearly did not hold making money as the highest priority. He had an understanding of spiritual integrity that did not prioritize physical buildings. He acted publicly on his principles with impressive conviction. He knew himself well enough that he didn't seek approval from others -- he didn't need external validation.

Jesus' perspective isn't made explicit in this story, but he obviously disagrees with the perspective of the Jewish religious leaders. This seems to be a difference of how one ought to relate to the divine. The Jewish people had a system of well-defined sacrificial acts that they believed connected them to their supernatural -- where they believed divinity was situated. If we consider the possibility that what we call "divinity" is really a set of inward human qualities, then relationship with the divine is really about being connected with that deepest, most noble part of ourselves. Sacrifices don't make any sense in that context. Does what Jesus suggested make any sense from that perspective of inner divinity?

Well, he starts off suggesting that there is something wrong with making money off of the sacrificial system. This has to mean that there is something wrong with the system itself, because many people could not offer the appropriate sacrifice from their own possessions. That's why the livestock and money-changers were there in the first place. So, if there is something wrong with the sacrificial system, this means that there is something amiss about the prevailing view of relationship with the divine -- something off about the common understanding of spiritual identity.

When challenged, he states that if the Temple is destroyed, he will raise it up in three days, which the disciples in the story interpret as a reference to the resurrection. What if these words mean something else? What if the most important thing about spiritual identity is meaningful connection within ourselves, followed closely by meaningful connection with other people? Without the building to distract people, they might start to recognize their own deepest, most noble selves -- their own identities. And they might be able to connect in community with other people in a more sincere and meaningful way. Without the sacrificial system to distract them, people might begin to grasp the true heart of spiritual identity rather quickly. The groundwork for meaningful community had already been laid in the culture. Within three days, all of the necessary elements for spiritual identity could be brought together without the need of a physical structure or a complex system of sacrifices.

After all, what does it take for people to develop clarity about their spiritual identity? They would need to be confident in their ability to engage in that process, and -- because human beings are relational -- they would need a community within which to develop that personal clarity. Perhaps a spiritual leader or guide is also an important element in the mix. They don't need a building, to be sure. They don't need to follow a prescribed set of rituals, particularly when those rituals become rote practice instead of personally significant. They certainly don't need to pay people for the means to connect with divinity. Within a relatively short amount of time, all the essentials for meaningful spiritual community and meaningful personal development could be put in place. True understanding takes a lot longer, but it starts from having a useful foundation.

It bears repeating that we never need to pay for spiritual integrity. We may choose to pay for the services of a coach or guide. We may choose to contribute resources to a community in which we have found meaning. There is something off, however, if we are ever compelled to give money that we aren't giving out of our own desire. Our spiritual well-being does not have a price tag. Our spiritual well-being is our responsibility. No matter what promises are made about more money coming back to us if we give beyond our means or beyond our comfort, our financial well-being is our responsibility, too. When money is coerced from us, there is something wrong with the situation. When we offer money out of our own sense of abundance -- out of our own identity as generous people -- then we can most meaningfully connect that to spiritual integrity.

There is little else to this scene apart from pointing out that the current system was flawed. It will take some time for the overall story to reveal a better way. From this little bit, though, we might take away that we need to clarify for ourselves what is most important, and we need to be clear that it isn't money. We might recognize that our personal development and our sense of community are not about the physical trappings of architecture or prescribed ritual. We might commit ourselves to allowing our guiding principles to source our public actions, and we might begin to build our conviction in that area. Most importantly perhaps, we might begin to develop a sense of self that isn't based on external validation from other people. We can learn from other people's perspectives, even their perspectives about who we are or who we should be, but we don't need to base our decisions on what would make other people happy. There is a more authentic way of being that we can embrace.

Little Experiments: What can you do in three days? If you want to build up your spiritual identity a bit more, there are some meaningful actions you can take that do not require a lot of time. These are steps in a journey, not the destination, but they can still be incredibly meaningful and important.

In the next three days, you could:
Start in on that personal development book you've been meaning to read.
Connect with someone with whom you haven't spoken in a while.
Commit to a practice of meditation.
Decide to give out of your abundance to a cause that you care about.
Seek out a community of like-minded people who are challenging and supporting one another.

If you wanted to, within the next three days, you could plan a simple dinner and invite people who have helped you clarify your own identity, people you have inspired and empowered, or others with whom you would like a deeper connection. That could even be the start of a meaningful community of individuals who are willing to be intentional about their own identities and their relationships with one another. Everything has to start somewhere. You could start something in the next three days.

John 2:1-12 How Do You Change Water into Wine?

Debates about a historical Jesus or the veracity of the Bible (or even what "veracity" might mean in this context) are far from over, and ultimately not very helpful in terms of applying the more spiritual truths of the text in our lives. There is one school of thought that holds that the gospel stories are about the uniqueness of Jesus and why he is so very different from ordinary human beings. We are ordinary human beings, though. So, it makes the most sense to read the stories from a perspective that will give us the greatest resources that we can use in our lives.

Take, for example, the first miracle story in the gospel of John, in which the character Jesus changes water into wine. He changes it into very impressive wine, at that (as if the transmogrification was not impressive in and of itself). We don't gain much from trying to dissect how this miracle happened or even trying to determine if this miracle happened. We get a lot more from taking the story as a story and digging into what it might say about us as human beings.

Jesus and his disciples are guests at a wedding -- they are known by the family of the bride or groom well enough to have been invited. Jesus' mother is also a guest, and in a moment of pushy parenting, she presses upon her son to take care of a problem that really isn't his responsibility. In a certain sense, she asks Jesus to "over-function." Jesus sets a boundary with her, but she persists. Ultimately, for whatever reason, Jesus acquiesces and resolves the issue with extraordinary competence. This bolstered the confidence that other people had in Jesus.

Before we look at what Jesus' actions might say to us, we might first look to Jesus' mother (who is never named anywhere in the gospel of John). There are times in which we press upon others to resolve problems that are not their responsibility. Maybe we know their capability, and we want them to have a chance to shine. Maybe we want people to be impressed with us because of our association with impressive people. Maybe we have a genuine concern that the problem gets resolved, but we doubt our own capacity to address it in any meaningful way. Whatever the case, sometimes we over-function by demanding that other people over-function. Our anxiety provokes us to want the situation resolved, and we put expectations on others to resolve it so that our anxiety will go away.

Needless to say, this reactive tendency to place demands and expectations on others often doesn't stem from our deep values -- it's not a prompting of our deepest, most noble selves. We just want not to feel anxious. When we find ourselves tempted to volunteer others to resolve issues that make us anxious, we can make a few small adjustments to how we handle that anxiety. First, we can calm down. Whatever helps us to start thinking clearly in moments of anxiety needs to be our first step. That may look like taking a few deep breaths, or stepping away from the situation for a moment, or even thinking through our guiding principles. If we've taken the time to get some clarity about those principles or values, and we can frame them in short, memorable phrases, they can guide us out of anxiety.

Once we are calm, we might talk through things with the people around us -- particularly the people we are tempted to conscript into service. Something like, "This is the issue as I see it, and this situation is not what I would prefer. I think of you as a competent individual. Is there something that you would be willing to do in the current situation to help make it better?" And then, most importantly, we accept the response whatever it is. If the person says, "No, I'd prefer not to get involved," we accept it. Maybe we say, "Thanks for considering it." If the person says, "Yes, I'd like to help if I can," then we let that be a free decision rather than an obligation or compulsion. If we learn to calm down and invite people into action, with no demands or expectations, we are likely to live out our guiding principles more often.

When we look at Jesus' response to his mother, however, we see the other side of this equation. We don't know what's going on inside Jesus' head, but we may be able to relate to the situation. When we are pressed to respond to a situation that's making someone else anxious, we have at least a few possible choices.

(1) We can say no, set a boundary, and stick to it. We can choose to maintain the boundary calmly and without hostility, or we can become belligerent in how we defend that boundary. The more emotionally mature response, of course, is to calmly set our boundary and let other people be responsible for their own anxiety. It's tough to be emotionally mature when someone is persistent in making demands, though. That takes a bit of practice.

(2) We can give into someone's pressure, essentially giving up what we want in order to meet someone else's demands on us. When we do this, we give other people inappropriate power over our behavior, and we take on responsibility for someone else's anxiety. This is not an uncommon reaction, but it also isn't a very intentional or principled response. When we are intentional about living in alignment with our principles, we take responsibility for our actions and our anxiety, and we don't assume responsibility for other people's actions or anxiety.

(3) We can also choose to accommodate someone's request, even if they are being pushy, out of a sense of love or compassion rather than out of a sense of obligation. Even when someone is being forceful, we can choose to do something based on our principles. We don't have to resist something we actually want to do just because we don't like how we're being asked to do it. When we are thoughtful, we can sometimes see compelling reasons to take action based on our own deep guiding principles -- our own deepest, most noble self.

In the narrative, Jesus sets a boundary, his mother persists, and then -- we don't know why -- Jesus takes action. That, in and of itself, does not give us anything to emulate. Maybe he gave in and resented his mother's pressure. We may be tempted to draw a different conclusion based on a preconceived notion about Jesus, but the story doesn't tell us what's going on in Jesus' head. From the perspective of the author, though, we can assume a high opinion of Jesus. So, perhaps it is implied that he thought about the situation and decided from a clear and principled perspective that he wanted to help out. He could have done the same thing out of a position of obligation and giving in to his mother's demands, or out of a sincere expression of his values. From the outside, those two positions might not look any different. The difference is with regard to his integrity -- whether his actions are sourced by his authentic identity.

In our own lives, we have our own ways of turning water into wine. Our abilities and areas of competence might look extraordinary to people who don't share our training or experience. When I tell people that I am a pianist or a composer, they are often amazed at that ability, because it isn't a skill they possess. From their perspective, they are as likely to turn water into wine as they are to learn how to create music. From my perspective, I worked for many years to become adept in these musical abilities. There is nothing miraculous or mysterious about it. We all have some abilities or skills that are like that. They seem very ordinary and comfortable to us, but to someone who doesn't share that skill, it borders on miraculous.

The people who know us well -- who understand our abilities and are a bit impressed by us -- might try to convince us to act when we don't really feel like it. They might even pressure us to deal with a situation that really isn't our responsibility. When this happens, we have choices. Our typical automatic reaction to being pressured by someone is probably not our best option. When we can get back to our guiding principles, we have a better chance of responding thoughtfully and authentically to any situation.

So, when we are asked to act or intervene in our particularly skillful way, we can thoughtfully choose to say yes or no. We can consider the situation -- and our ability and willingness to engage it -- without it needing to mean something about the person doing the pressuring. If we say No to our mothers, it doesn't mean we don't love our mothers. It might just mean that they are asking us to do something that is not authentic for us. Learning to say No or Yes because of who we are rather than because we feel pressured is a huge step in developing emotional maturity and living into our authentic selves.

A Little Experiment: How do you turn water into wine? What are the areas of expertise or ability that other people find impressive? If you know what those things are, you might better understand how you can make a meaningful contribution to any situation. You can also predict the sorts of things other people might pressure you to do, and you can rehearse setting boundaries or responding thoughtfully and authentically. Practicing ahead of time might help us stay calm and less reactive in moments of pressure.

Another Little Experiment: Say no and mean no. Set a boundary with someone without getting defensive, and without being compelled to be inauthentic. Let it be about something simple, like, "No, I'd rather not eat at that restaurant today." Being willing to set simple boundaries about less important things will help us set more challenging boundaries about really important things.

One More Little Experiment: Say yes and mean yes. In alignment with your deep values -- your guiding principles -- agree to do something for someone else, without resentment or a sense that they owe you one. Go to a movie or a restaurant you don't really want to go to because you value spending time with someone. Run an errand for someone else just because you care about that person, without framing it as an inconvenience or holding it over someone's head.

When we can say Yes and No authentically, our relationships are transformed. It can even seem miraculous, like changing water (or vinegar) into wine.

John 1: People Notice Authenticity

In the last section of John 1, we meet the main character of the story. We can draw some insights from the behavior of the disciples (students) in this brief summary of how they came to be associated with Jesus, and we can draw some insights from the behavior of Jesus. We might find ourselves situated in multiple places in this narrative. In a way, this flows directly from our observations about John the Baptist's authenticity and brings forward some additional things about people who are authentic.

Part of the purpose of this segment of the story is to legitimize -- or at least relate -- the brief origin stories of some of the significant legendary figures in the early church. This story is not identical to other stories about how the followers of Jesus were assembled, but it serves as an introduction to these men and defines their connection to one another. It appears that all of these initial followers were friends or family members of one another. We can't overplay this observation, because we don't actually have any written materials from any of these followers. We know them (and their relationships) only by tradition. Still, it is perhaps worth noting that the reason people gathered in community around this teacher is because of the invitations of friends and family members -- people who were known and trusted.

Various readers might try to make a big deal about how Jesus knows the things that he knows about people -- as if he had some supernatural insights about them. We aren't explicitly told that he has any telepathic powers, but people read their own impressions into the story. In the context of the story, it's just as likely that Andrew could say to Jesus, "I want to bring my brother to meet you," and the next day Jesus said, "Ah, you're that guy that Andrew was going to bring." And it's just as likely that Jesus literally saw Nathaniel sitting under a fig tree and formed an opinion about him. It's also worth remembering that it's a story that has no means of being verified, so we have to just let it be a story. The point is that it's a story about human interaction, not about superhuman abilities.

In noticing what the story leaves out at this point, two things seem apparent. First, we read nothing about those people who ignored or rejected Jesus as a teacher. We only read about the handful of individuals who saw something worth emulating in Jesus. We also only read one instance of Jesus "calling" someone, and that person seems to have known some other folks who were traveling with Jesus. Everyone who decides to follow this leader makes a personal choice to do so; they aren't all sought out and tapped by the leader as if they had been destined for it since birth.

On the one hand, if we want people to know about what we are doing, we have to talk about what we are doing at some point. That may not mean calling people to follow us, but there are some people who will only consider collaboration when they are invited into it. Maybe that was what was going on with Philip. Who knows. The truth that this story highlights, though, is that if we are authentically ourselves, we will attract people who want to know more about how we developed that ability. It's rare enough to see someone show up authentically that people still find it rather impressive. We won't attract everyone by showing up authentically, but that isn't the point. It isn't a marketing tactic. It's a way of being.

By suggesting that we be authentically ourselves, I'm also not suggesting that we do whatever we want and act like we rule the world. That isn't actually authentic. The attitude that some individuals adopt that seems to suggest that they own the road, or a restaurant, or a store clerk's attention, is far from authentic. Equally inauthentic are those of us who play small and pretend to be invisible, as if we have nothing to contribute and we don't want anyone to find out how worthless we are. In order to show up authentically, we have to be aware of ourselves and aware of our connection to the people around us. It means not pretending to be something we aren't, neither more nor less than our complete selves.

Some people will be attracted to that level of authenticity for different reasons. A couple of John's disciples jumped ship and decided to learn from Jesus instead. Maybe they had learned all they could from John. Maybe they just didn't like what John was teaching them. We have a tendency to do this kind of thing, too. We want to grow or learn something, but when a teacher or situation challenges us beyond our comfort zone, our fear may provoke us to run away and look for something else. We concoct all sorts of excuses, but sometimes the most honest reason we do things is that we are scared.

To complicate matters, there are legitimately some circumstances that are unhealthy or unhelpful to us. We may actually be ready to move on to something else. Some teachers misrepresent themselves, perhaps even unknowingly. If we stay in a situation out of a sense of loyalty, we might actually convince ourselves to stay in relationships that are detrimental to us -- that don't lead to greater well-being. So, we have to consider why we are choosing to do what we choose to do. If we leave one relationship for another without thinking through the honest reasons why -- not just the convenient excuses to cover up our fears and anxieties -- we are likely to find ourselves in similar situations over and over again.

Some of the people who approach Jesus in the story have to get over their own prejudices. "Can anything good come from Nazareth?" is not far off from some of the assumptions we make about the capabilities of people who come from different cultures. When we buy into the idea that people are intrinsically different just because they have some different practices or beliefs, we run the risk of considering ourselves to be worth more than other human beings by virtue of superficial things. When we understand that all people have inherent value, but that we all have different perspectives, we have a better opportunity to assess ideas honestly and still honor and respect the human beings who hold those different ideas. From one perspective, we are trying to "win" somehow -- to be right or to be better than someone else. From the other, we might grow toward a best possible version of ourselves by remaining open to other points of view.

We said early on in introducing this book that we would be meeting ourselves -- or at least our potential selves -- in observing the main character of Jesus. In this story about gathering people in community, we see the possibility of understanding ourselves and our connection to others so clearly that other people notice something compelling about how we show up. We might expect that the rest of the story will suggest some of the means to grow toward that level of authenticity. For now, let it suffice to say that we often show up the way we think other people expect us to show up, or we show up reacting to other people out of our anxieties about ourselves. When we are comfortable with our deep values and we show up confident in our authentic identity -- not pretending to be more or less than who we really are -- people will notice.

A Little Experiment: Our journey begins with noticing how we are -- how we choose to be. Notice this week when you are trying to "win" something you don't need to win, like driving or drawing the attention of a store clerk away from another customer. Notice also when you are letting yourself pretend to be invisible or playing small, like not speaking in a conversation or trying not to be noticed. What is going on for you when you are trying to prove your importance or hide from people? What would it be like for you to be more authentically present? More aware of who you actually are and more aware of your connection to (and impact on) other people? What would it take for you to be comfortable showing up without any sort of mask?

John 1: Being Comfortable with Ourselves and Pointing to Others

The next section of the gospel of John sets up the relationship between John the Baptist and Jesus. In John 1:19-34, we see a brief character sketch of John the Baptist before we are officially introduced to the character Jesus. Some scholars see evidence (in biblical and extrabiblical sources) that John the Baptist and Jesus had competing cults, and that eventually the Jesus cult received many of John's followers after John was executed. It is possible that John was the leader of a Mandaean sect. There are still some Mandaeans today in southern Mesopotamia, and they generally revere John the Baptist (among others) and reject Jesus of Nazareth. A significant Mandaic population in Iraq and Iran (tens of thousands of people) has dwindled in recent years due to war and religious persecution. If the Mandaic community and the new sect of Christianity were at odds with one another in the first century, it would provide some incentive for gospel writers to attempt to bridge that conflict in a way that placed their group in a superior position. Such a conflict, however, is largely conjecture at this point; the scant evidence that exists is only suggestive.

From just reading the story, we get an impression of the John the Baptist character, though. Here is a man of conviction, unafraid to stand up to the religious authorities of the predominant culture, and even impish enough to be a bit cryptic while he does it. John the Baptist reflects a person who knows himself, and isn't afraid of pointing the way to another leader or teacher. His rejection of the Pharisees is not simply a manifestation of authority issues or narcissism; he is willing to recognize true capability and wisdom when he sees it. This character sketch may have some value for us.

There are some other bits that make for a compelling story, but it would be rather fruitless to get too mired in details from a historical or factual perspective. There is simply too much time that passed between any actual events and the writing of this narrative, and there is no way to accurately guess what was going on in John the Baptist's mind. Did John refer to Jesus in such obsequious tones? Nobody can know, and it ultimately doesn't matter. Did John actually see a dove-like supernatural manifestation? Probably not, but he may have seen something that he interpreted as a supernatural event. Or he may have been having a heat stroke. Or he may have had other hallucinations that aren't recorded anywhere. Or he may have made things up to bolster his own identity as a mystic and to convince others of the veracity of his words. Other religious leaders have been known to do so. There's really no telling if any of this "actually" happened. It's a story. Let's take what we can from it and leave it at that.

So, this fellow John is the focus of these few paragraphs. He knows who he is, and he is presumably a capable leader of his sect (otherwise the Pharisees wouldn't care what he was doing). He is also able to see competence in others, and he is not intimidated by another capable leader. Quite the contrary--he recommends another capable leader to some of his own followers. He apparently does not base his own sense of personal value or identity on the behavior of other people. He doesn't base his self worth on people's reactions to him. He acts out of his own guiding principles and lets that be enough.

Some roles in our society require pointing to others. When a concert pianist performs a virtuosic solo, she shows up very differently from when she is accompanying a vocalist. In one instance, she is the star feature, and in the other she has a supporting role. It takes a slightly different set of musical skills to be an excellent accompanist. One has to be tuned into what the other performer is doing if one is to really collaborate in creating a musical experience. The same performer can be an excellent soloist and an excellent accompanist, but it requires a shift in attitude -- it requires showing up a little bit differently. I'm sure you can think of other roles that similarly require directing attention to others rather than to oneself.

We sometimes find ourselves in a roomful of people who want to be seen as capable, who want to be recognized as competent leaders. Often such people talk about themselves. A lot. They have an experience that relates to (and possibly trumps) whatever anyone else says. Or perhaps they have been down that road before and they have expert advice to share. We have all probably been in those conversations. Unfortunately, at some point in time, we have all probably been the person who wanted to share advice or who had a "better-than-you" story to tell.

Gaining a feeling of superiority and giving advice are reactions to the anxiety we feel when we want people to see us a certain way. This anxiety becomes particularly acute when we think that we might not actually be that competent, capable person we want people to see. When we are telling stories that trump other people's experiences or giving unsolicited expert advice (or doing anything else in an effort to seem better than somebody else), we are often trying to show up as somebody different than who we really think we are. We are trying to convince people of something about us, and perhaps we are not so convinced ourselves.

When we show up authentically, when we are honest about who we are and what we are capable of doing, people will notice. Part of this requires managing the anxiety that we feel when we want to be seen a certain way. For some people, it requires being visible -- showing up and being fully present rather than shrinking away from attention. Showing up authentically does not mean playing small any more than it means pretending to be more than we actually are. It means being honest about who we are and how we want to engage in the world.

John the Baptist (as he is portrayed here, at least) is an example of that sort of person. He is clear about how he wants to show up, and he seems to be relatively low-anxiety about that. He does his thing, and when another capable leader comes along, he acknowledges it. Now, John the Baptist may go a bit overboard in humiliating himself and propping up Jesus. No one needs the sort of boot-licking compliments that John the Baptist heaps on Jesus in this story. Compliments are nice, but people can be personally responsible for showing up authentically without us going off the deep end in our attempts to "sell" them to other folks. John saw something that impressed him about Jesus, though, and he wasn't threatened by it. He told other people that he saw something impressive without it needing to mean anything about John's capability.

Now, as we continue along in the story, we'll see that showing up authentically does not mean that everyone else is going to love you. Other people are still potentially wrapped up in their own anxiety, and their reactivity is out of our control. John the Baptist's authenticity gets him killed. Or maybe it is his lack of tact. We'll see. The point is that showing up authentically is not risk-free. The advantage is that we aren't pretending to be something different from who we really are. Knowing how we want to show up as a reflection of our deep values -- our guiding principles -- means that we give people an opportunity to see us more clearly. Some people will be attracted to that. Some people will be threatened by it. The real advantage is that we are at peace with ourselves -- that we have integrity. Who we are on the outside can reflect who we are on the inside.

Of course, the first trick to this is knowing ourselves better, and that requires managing our anxiety better. We all carry around fears and lies about who we are deep down inside, and how we think we have to show up so that no one sees the "truth" about us. We have to dismantle those fears and lies in order to be the people we most want to be. This story into which we're delving will point the way for some of this work.

For now, we can recognize that we don't need to be threatened by other competent, capable people. We can point to what impresses us about others without demeaning ourselves. (Are you listening, John the Baptist?) We don't need to trump other people's stories or give unsolicited advice in order to impress other people. When we show up reflecting the things that matter most to us, people will either be impressed or they won't. Our role is to live out of our deepest values.

A Little Experiment: The next time you are in a public setting, notice whether you are trying to be impressive or trying to compete with the people around you for attention or acknowledgment. If you're willing, try to relax into yourself and let go of that anxiety. Consider the possibility that you may not need to pretend to be something other than yourself in order to be seen the way you want to be seen.

Another Little Experiment: Be on the lookout for authentic people -- people who seem comfortable with themselves, who aren't giving unsolicited advice or trying to gain superiority through story-telling. Allow yourself to be impressed by other people's authenticity.