Seth Lewis's Blog, page 16

Quotes I Can’t Forget

Words are powerful. They can communicate ideas, and ideas can change everything. Every once in a while someone captures a profound idea so well with their words that it hits my brain hard enough to stick and it won’t let go so it ends up becoming part of me. This week I want to share with you a few quotes that have become part of me. The hard part was picking just a few, so you’re likely to see this kind of post again in the future. Here they are:

“There is no such thing on earth as an uninteresting subject; the only thing that can exist is an uninterested person.”
― G.K. Chesterton, in Heretics

I think this is a big part of what makes Chesterton’s writing so surprising. He actually sees the things most of us have long since stopped noticing because they are too familiar. And he’s right, of course: if you look closely enough, everything really is interesting. This short sentence has helped me remember to open my eyes and see the world around me.

“Wherever you are, be all there.”
— Jim Elliot, quoted by his wife, Elisabeth Elliot

This is a lot harder than it sounds, especially in the age of mobile phones. But remembering it has helped me many times to refocus my attention on the people and tasks right in front of me.

“The secret is Christ in me, not me in a different set of circumstances”
— Elisabeth Elliot, in Keep A Quiet Heart

It is always tempting to put my hope in changing circumstances, to believe that somehow things will improve around the corner and then I’ll be able to be happy and content. The longer I live, the more clearly I see that Elisabeth was right: a better situation is not what I need most. Jesus is.

“God made us: invented us as a man invents an engine. A car is made to run on petrol, and it would not run properly on anything else. Now God designed the human machine to run on Himself. He Himself is the fuel our spirits were designed to burn, or the food our spirits were designed to feed on. There is no other. That is why it is just no good asking God to make us happy in our own way without bothering about religion. God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there.”
— C.S. Lewis, in his classic, Mere Christianity

That last line blew my mind when I read it the first time, and I’ve never recovered.

My wife, Jessica, has loved books her whole life and reads a lot faster than I do. When she finds a good quote, she adds it to her ever-growing collection. When I thought of doing this post, I asked her to share a couple of her favourites with you as well. Here they are, with her notes:

“I learned the lesson that great men cultivate love, and that only little men cherish a spirit of hatred. I learned that assistance given to the weak makes the one who gives it strong; and that oppression of the unfortunate makes one weak.”
— Booker T. Washington, Up From Slavery

I first read Booker T. Washington’s autobiography Up from Slavery four years ago, and this quote transfixed me. Booker T. was born a slave and suffered all the accompanying indignities, hardships, and injustices. Yet he could write near the end of his life that only little men cherish hatred; true greatness comes from cultivating love and assisting the weak. He was one of the greatest of men.

“Looking back, one has tried to count the cost, but I found it all swallowed up in privilege. The cost suddenly seemed very small and transient in the greatness and permanence of the privilege.”
— Helen Roseavere, Count It All Joy

How I want to see my life as Helen Roseavere saw hers!

Are there quotes that have become part of you? Please share them with us in the comments!

Heroes and Villains

One of my favourite things about a good story is the character development. I love it when I can watch someone in the story growing and changing and learning as the circumstances they face force them to make decisions and live with the consequences of their mistakes or taste the rewards of their sacrifices. Some of my favourite characters in literature are far from perfect, but they reflect our common humanity and they teach me something about how our personal character—for good or for evil—is forged slowly in the furnace of decisions. Even our small, daily choices will be motivated and directed either towards a love for self above all, or a love for God that expresses itself in love for others. Over time, these choices shape us. These choices make us. That’s what I was thinking about when I wrote this triple poem (is a triple poem even a thing? Anyway, it is now):

Heroes and Villains

In the best sorts of stories
The good guys are good
And the bad guys are bad
But not quite completely—
They both have a bit of the other inside them
Their vices and virtues mixed up and combined in
Their choices we see them turn this way or that
As their character forms in the flow of the plot
As decisions add up and compound and expand
And this is how heroes—and villains—are made

Villains

Real villains
Hardly ever
See themselves
As something evil
They see themselves
More like the hero
In an epic quest for glory
Autobiographic story
Of their greatness and achievements
If it causes some bereavements
That’s the price that must be paid
For the world that must be made
Into the image of ambition
No one’s asking for permission
What’s required is submission
To this righteous cause and mission

Or else.

Heroes

Real heroes
Hardly ever
See their actions
As heroics
They just cannot live
Inside a lie
When something’s wrong
They can’t stand by
They can’t just hide
Or compromise
Not even when the stakes are high
Not even if they lose their lives
They don’t sign up for sacrifice
They simply love what’s good and right
And that is all.

And that’s enough.

How An Attempted Car Theft Taught Me To Love Where I Live Even More

Last Friday evening, I finally got around to cleaning and washing the car, and refilling the windscreen wash. I can’t remember the last time I did any of that, which might tell you something about what it looked like before. The next morning, telling jokes along the way, my children and I walked out to the car to drive to basketball. When we got there I noticed that the driver’s side door frame was bent several inches away from the car. When I opened the door, I understood why: the steering column had been torn apart and the ignition wires were dangling loose.

Someone had tried to steal our car.

We only have the one. Also, it’s old. And once I scratched it on a concrete wall trying to avoid a car on the other side. Why on earth would someone want to steal it? Yes, it was clean for the first time in ages, but believe me it would take more than a wash to make it an attractive car.

The would-be robbers probably targeted our car because they thought it would be an easy hit. They were unsuccessful, so it’s still there—useless because they destroyed it in the process of trying to take it. They left fingerprints as well.

But they were in my car. Sitting in the seat where my wife and I sit, with the children behind us. They were going to take it, with the Bible in the glovebox and the kids’ art supplies and the binoculars under the back seat ready for us if we happen to want them on a hike and the letter I put in the night before so I would remember to mail it. Just like that. Just pry it open and take it all.

For what, I don’t know. Maybe they had a reason. Or maybe the reason was just the thrill of power that comes from doing what other people don’t want you to do and lock doors to keep you from doing. That makes me nervous, because I don’t know what else people will do, or when they will try. Being a human is hard enough without the burden of not being able to trust other humans. Without the burden of not being able to trust locks. If the would-be robbers had genuinely needed something, they could have asked and I would have been willing to help, or at least try. But I don’t think they needed anything as much as they needed a new way of thinking about the world and the people around them. I hope someday they figure out that real happiness doesn’t come from using your power against others and taking their things for yourself, but rather from using your power and your things for the good of others.

Like my neighbours: When they found out what had happened, we were flooded with help. One neighbour checked his CCTV for us remotely, even though he was out of the country on holiday. Another brought supplies to keep rain from getting in the bent door. Several came over or texted to offer to shop for us or let us borrow their cars. As more people found out, we got offers of all kinds of help from all around the village. A friend from Bible study even dropped a car over to us and said “use it for as long as you like”.

There’s a way of living that seeks power in hurting others and taking from them. And that is a kind of power. A terrible kind. But it’s not the only power, or even the most powerful. When our neighbours and friends came together for us so quickly and freely, I saw what real power is—the kind that no one can steal.

The whole experience has left me with two questions:

What was the point of washing the car?

And,

How could we ever measure the value of a strong community?

How To Never Burn Out

Have you noticed that people aren’t quite the same after the pandemic? Apparently, humans beings can’t just pause most of their normal life activities for two years and then suddenly switch it all back on again without any difficulties. There are difficulties. People are generally more tired doing the same things, which makes them less willing to commit to the same number of things, which leaves some things undone, or at least struggling to get done. This seems to be especially true for voluntary activities like the local committees and clubs and churches that hold communities together and serve the needy and vulnerable. Serving others in these ways takes time and energy; resources that are already being demanded by commitments we can’t get out of, so often the easiest option is to cut the voluntary activities out. It makes sense. We only have so much to give. If we’re not careful, we’ll burn out. But I know a way to keep that from happening.

Here’s solution that will keep you from ever burning out in your service for others: don’t light the fire in the first place. Don’t serve at all. Don’t get involved. Never use your strength for anyone but your own self, your own care, your own security. Never notice the needs around you. Shift your eyes and shut your mouth and move on as quickly as possible. Focus only on protecting yourself. It really works: If you live this way, you’ll never burn out. You won’t be able to burn out, because you’ll never burn at all. You’ll remain entirely self-contained and cold, like a hearth filled only with the ashes of yesterday’s warmth. Is that really what you want for your life?

It seems to me that the whole point of protecting ourselves from burning out is so that we can keep on burning. So that we can keep on serving well. Like a fireplace was made for fire, our lives are made for God’s love, and when it burns in us it should radiate with heat and light to the world and the people around us as well. Yes, we are human and our strength is finite. Yes, it is foolish to pretend that we can meet every need ourselves. We can’t. We’re limited. We’ll serve better and longer if we recognise the reality of our limits and live within them. But God gave us this life for a reason—not to be hoarded and protected at all costs, but to be shared generously in the pattern of our Saviour. So tend the fire with wisdom and care. Take reasonable precautions against burning out. 

Just don’t forget to keep burning. 

Seeds And Sunflowers

Growing up in Alabama, I loved snacking on sunflower seeds. I would crack the shells open and pull out a tiny little bit of deliciousness from each one. It’s hard to stop, once you start on them—especially if they’re salted. It’s also hard to imagine how those tiny tasty little seeds could ever become the massive plants that grow higher than my head and make flowers bigger than my face. When you think of it it’s kind of shocking, isn’t it?

Imagine showing someone who had never seen a sunflower that tiny seed in its tiny shell and trying to describe to them what would happen if they planted it in the ground. Imagine being the person that had never seen a sunflower, and trying to get your head around the idea that the little grey nothing in your hand could transform so completely into something so impressive and colourful. If all you knew was the seed, how could you ever guess the flower?

Let’s be honest: you couldn’t. The seed would not be enough in itself to guide your imagination to understand an end result so fundamentally different. The connection is real—the seed turns into the flower naturally, as it was made to do—but the difference between the two could hardly be greater. Of course, we don’t need to imagine sunflowers. We’ve seen them, so we know. But Paul uses seeds as an example to teach us how to use our imaginations when we think about the resurrection that Jesus has won for those who put their trust in him:

“…someone will ask, “How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?” How foolish! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. When you sow, you do not plant the body that will be, but just a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else. But God gives it a body as he has determined, and to each kind of seed he gives its own body….So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonour, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body….For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.” (1 Corinthians 15:35-38,42-44,53-54)

Paul is telling us that the reality of the resurrection is not the same as the reality we see and experience here on earth. Not even close. It is a fundamentally different kind of life—as different as the transformation of a seed into a sunflower. But how can we imagine this? None of us alive today have seen the flower of what Jesus’ resurrection life will bring to his children in its fullness. All we see right now is the seed. We see our weakness and mortality, the shame of our sin and the brokenness of our earth-bound reality. But when Jesus gives his resurrection life to a human soul, it is not to simply extend our lives as we now know them into eternity—it is to completely transform us, like a seed blooming into what it was always designed to be. When the seed breaks, he takes what was weak and mortal and perishing and through the power of his own death-defeating resurrection makes his people become powerful, immortal, and filled with glory and beauty and life beyond anything we’ve ever seen or even dreamed of on earth.

Can you imagine?

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9)

Writing Roundup

Dream Small was released four weeks ago, and I want to say a big thank you to everyone who has gotten the book and interacted with it. For this week’s blog post, I’d like to share with you some links that relate to the book–some from myself, and some from others. First, a couple of articles I’ve written recently for other sites on themes relating to the book:

Here’s an article about how we develop our skills, and (more importantly) what we develop them for: Why Some Things Are Worth Doing Poorly, on Common Good.

“…As G.K. Chesterton put it, “If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.” He didn’t mean that we should stay bad at it forever; only that if something really needs to be done, then it needs to be done whether we can do it well or not. If a goal is worth striving for, then it’s worth falling down for, and getting back up for, and getting back up again for, as many times as it takes. Do the best you can, but by all means, do.

And if your best is poor compared to others, well, that’s really not the point — God didn’t give you time and energy and talents so that you could prove anything to anyone else. The Bible is clear about our efforts: The purpose of using our skills and developing our abilities is not to serve ourselves, but to serve God by serving others and giving to them generously because of all that God, in Christ, has given us…” Read the rest at Common Good

It’s good to be king. Could anything be better? One king said yes, and that’s what this article is about: The King Who Longed For God’s Presence, on Open The Bible.

“…David was a real king, an absolute monarch with a real throne and a palace and a court where his people came before him to hear his decisions and his enemies came to bring their tribute. He was already living at the very top of human society. In modern terms you could say he was on the top rung of the ladder of success. He had power, in the extreme. Wealth, in excess. He had fame, and his influencer status was unrivalled. Even his song-writing skills were legendary. What else could this man achieve? He already had it all. And what does this man, who had everything the world could offer, value above the everything he had? He tells us plainly:  he would rather have one day close to God, as a doorkeeper, than a thousand days of earthly prosperity anywhere else without him…” Read the rest at Open The Bible

The Good Book Company has also posted a couple of excerpts from Dream Small on their blog, and you can find those here:

Climbing Down To Glory

“…He came as Lord, and yet washed dirty feet like the lowest of servants. He took our ladders of success and purposefully flipped them over…” Read more on TGBC blog

Small Dreams, Big Rewards

“…Your investments in his kingdom now, no matter how unnoticed they are by people, are producing a reward that is better than anything money can buy on Earth…” Read more on TGBC blog

Here are two reviews of the book from others who have read it:

A review from Tim Challies

“…To dream small, he explains, is not to miss out on God’s plan for our lives, but to find it, to take hold of it, and to live it out. It’s to live a life of the highest significance to the God whose ways are so very different from our own…” Read more at challies.com

And another from Aaron Lee

“…This book is for those who think that bigger platforms, more money, and worldly success and achievements will bring you greater happiness and satisfy your soul. It will cause you to re-examine your life. It will shift your priorities. It will challenge the patterns of your life and change the priorities of your heart. This book will remind you of what really matters most. We are small, but loved. Freedom and joy, contentment and satisfaction, are found not in ourselves – but in Jesus…” Read more

Finally, here’s a lecture I gave last weekend about some of the ideas in the book for our local Bible college here in Ireland:

Once Upon A Time

This week I’d like to share two poems with you. They don’t have much in common except that they are short. I wrote the first one thinking about how powerful other people’s stories have been in my own life:

Once Upon A Time

“Once upon a time”
It starts
And right away
We know for sure
No story is
Repeatable
Just once, it comes
And bound to time
Each one unique
And yet when I’m
Looking into
These other lives
Somehow
I see my own

The second poem is based on a comment someone made on the blog a long time ago. They thought I would be interested to know that most of the mass of trees actually comes from carbon in the air, not from the soil. And that really is interesting, isn’t it? It stuck with me, and eventually came out in this poem:

A Tree

The trunk of a tree
Is (most of it) carbon
And the way that it grows
Is somewhat alarming
It isn’t pulled up
From its roots in the ground
(Though it does need the
Water and soil around)
No, the carbon comes in
Through the leaves
With the light
Which is odd—if you
Guessed it, I think that I might
Not believe you
But it’s true
It comes from the air
The invisible stuff—
Just like nothing is there
But carbon is there
And added to sunlight
And soil and water
It grows to a great height
And shelters the birds
And gives shade to the people
Who breathe in the air
And maybe don’t care
That the air they are breathing
Is filled up with life

On Losing Consciousness In Public

There was a period of years in my life when I randomly lost consciousness. The first time it happened I had just had an eye test, and I woke up on the floor with my head spinning and several blurry women in matching purple uniforms leaning over me. That was strange. Then there was the time my face went straight into my lunch, and the time I just fell over standing in the doorway of the kitchen. There was also the time I gave blood, and once again woke up with the staff leaning over me. Last, but certainly not least, there was the time my wife and I went to a traditional Irish music show. At the end of the evening they called people up from the audience to sing, and they called us, and we tried to say no but somehow we ended up on the stage anyway. We sang, and I was just starting to think we were pulling it off pretty well when I felt the blood leaving my brain. I knew that feeling like an old enemy by then, so I bent over double to encourage that blood to go back where it should have been while still trying to sing and act natural about the whole thing. I do not recommend this as a way to act natural. Thankfully, my wife caught me when I went down. When I woke up I saw sympathetic eyes glancing away from me. I guess most people don’t have a category for how to react to the guy who just collapsed publicly on stage in front of them. Fair enough.

The doctor ran some tests and told me not to worry. He said this can happen to young men, which explains why it hasn’t happened to me for a long time now. And please—I don’t use the term “fainted”. That’s what girls do. Guys blackout, like you know, when they’re hitting high G turns in fighter jets or standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

Ok, it’s not cool. I admit it. If it’s anything good, it’s funny. I’ve used these stories often for a laugh, and they always deliver. But the joke is on me. The laugh is my own weakness, my own inability to control the fundamental realities of my own life. My body betrayed me and flipped the power switch without my permission. When something like that happens, I am forced to remember two realities: that I am not in control, and that I am not as strong as I think I am. I may not like to dwell on these realities, but I can’t deny them. 

Thankfully, I have outgrown the blackouts. The ways my body fails me now are less dramatic (so far), like getting tired too fast and sick at the wrong times and sore for reasons that aren’t good enough at all. I still don’t trust it. But these reminders of my finitude, whether daily or dramatic, can also help me remember other things that I know but can easily forget to think about—like the fact that there’s no need for despair over weakness because God is still in control and still strong enough to keep his promises for his children. He said that he would use “the weak things of the world to shame the strong”, so my limitations aren’t a problem for him. He said “my grace is sufficient for you”, and that’s sufficient for me. I don’t need to be in control. My body may betray me, but my Saviour never will. 

The Stars Still Shine In The Daytime

All night long we can see the stars shining down on us, but have you ever considered the fact that they also shine down on us all day? It’s not like they adjust the brightness of their burning to our sleep cycles. They shine on, always the same, always contributing something to our light. The big difference for us is just that one local star who comes around every morning and shines so brightly that the light of all the other billions of stars in the universe can’t compete at all.

Our sun is not a large star, as stars go. It’s bigger than some, but there are a lot of stars far bigger than it is—some of them more than 100 times bigger. But those super-massive balls of burning light only look like tiny pinpricks in the sky to us, and they are easily drowned out by our average little local fireball whenever he comes around. It’s not the size of the star that matters most, from our perspective: It’s the proximity. Those huge suns really are huge, but they are too far away to keep us warm. They are too distant to pull us in and shape our calendars and seasons, too far removed to fill the face of our moon with reflected light at night. It turns out that what we need down here is not a good view of the biggest star in the universe. What we need is just an average sun to be near enough to us to give us warmth and light and life. 

Isn’t this true of our relationships as well? 

I know there are many times when we are mesmerised by human stars and look up in wonder at the shimmering brightness of film stars, sports stars, YouTube stars, and so on (there are a lot of stars). We may even be guided by them, like the sailors of old. But no matter how brightly these human stars shine for us, there will always be important things that their far away light can’t do for us. I’m not blaming them, it’s not their fault—they are just too far away. 

This is why an average, ordinary friend who is next to you can bring warmth and light to your life in ways that no influencer ever could. This is why mothers and fathers can shape the seasons of their children’s lives more than any other humans on Earth. And this close proximity is how a brother or sister at church can light up our darkest nights like a moon, reflecting back to us the light of God’s goodness and promises even when we’ve lost sight of them. A far away human star, no matter how large and sparkly they may be, simply cannot do the simple, vital, life-giving things that are easy for the ordinary people around us—the people who love us and share life with us. The people who are close.

Proximity is more important than size. It is more important than magnificence. You don’t have to be the biggest and shiniest in the universe to bring warmth and light to the people around you. You can be completely average, like our sun, and do the job quite well. You’ve just got to be close. 

You’ve got to be close.

Dream Small Trailer

Today is the day! Dream Small is now officially released and available wherever good books are sold. You can find out more on the book page. I’d also like to share with you a trailer for the book from The Good Book Company: