Legislation Isn't Always the Answer

I realized at an early age that the world is a broken place. And it wasn’t the result of some traumatic event or major loss. All I had to do was look around, to pay attention to what was taking place around me, and it was easy to recognize just how messed up things are. Or more specifically, how messed up we’ve made things. The bad things that happen are generally the result of selfish decisions made by individuals and groups that have tragic consequences for themselves and for others. And as a kid observing these awful events taking place around me, I had a strong urge to stop them somehow. I wanted to make the world better. Often, I found myself seeing something happen in the world and thinking, “There should be a law against that.”

Take racism, for example. There was a time in my life when I literally thought that expressing racism should be a crime. “Sure,” I thought, “we can’t stop people from holding prejudiced beliefs, but we can stop them from voicing them.” In my mind, throwing someone in jail for saying something racially insensitive or treating another person differently due to the color of their skin would eventually suppress racism to the point that it would disappear. It sounds ludicrous now, but I actually used to think that we could legislate racism out of existence. Now, I know a little better.

As I’ve grown up, my recognition of the world’s brokenness has only grown more vast and nuanced. I’ve seen people mistreat one another in ways that break my heart and haunt my mind. And the more I see of these behaviors, the more I realize that the issue doesn’t lie in the things that we do; it lies at the very root of who we are. Things like discrimination, violence, corruption, and the like aren’t ultimately external or legal issues. They’re heart issues. And no law or punishment can heal a diseased human heart.

The truth is that we can’t legislate morality. As Jasmin Patterson points out in her article at Relevant, forcing people to adhere to a moral standard through the legal system can’t actually change their hearts. In fact, it probably only makes them less inclined to change their underlying beliefs. Whether it’s in the classroom, at home, or in the political arena, making anything mandatory automatically makes it undesirable for many people. And if we actually want to make the world a better place, we can’t just deal with the symptoms. We have to find a cure for the disease.

I’m not saying that laws are bad or unnecessary. Of course, we need a legal system that protects peoples’ basic rights and deals with those who infringe on the rights of others. And there are some issues that should be dealt with through the legal system. For example, I think that the regulation of businesses (such as rules against monopolies and measures protecting net neutrality) are best left up to legislation. But those legal measures are really just bandages that temporarily and inadequately treat the real problem. They can’t change the human heart.

So if making laws isn’t the way to solve the world’s problems, what is? There are some who say that a free and open market would naturally take care of most of these issues for us. On their podcast Who Would Build the Roads, hosts Josh Taylor and Kevin McCreary represent this view well and argue that social ostracization is a powerful enough force to keep people in line. If someone commits an act that goes against the public consensus of what’s acceptable behavior, the community can simply shun that person (especially by excluding them from participation in the exchange of goods) until they commit to following the rules.

This makes sense to a certain degree. People need to be a part of a community, and they have to engage in the market in order to provide for themselves and their families, so threatening to ostracize wrongdoers might be enough to convince most people to act properly. But does that really solve the problem? To me, it seems to have the same issue as the legal approach: It only deals with the symptoms, not the underlying disease. If one is only concerned with other peoples’ external behavior, then this method would probably work just fine, possibly even better than the legal system. But if what we really want to do is heal the world’s brokenness, we have to tackle the source of the issue, the human heart, and find a way transform it.

I’m convinced that the only solution to the issue of our brokenness is the love and grace of God. We humans are simply too messed up to fix ourselves. No matter what system we come up with, whether it be a government or a market or anything else, it will ultimately fall short of setting the world right because it will not be able to solve the issue of our own selfishness. The only thing that can overcome that selfishness is redemption, and redemption is a miracle that we cannot bring about ourselves.

But that doesn’t mean that we have no role to play. Those of us who claim to follow Christ can have an immense impact on the world by simply living out the Christian life authentically. By choosing to walk with joy instead of cynicism, to forgive those who do us wrong, to love others as ourselves, and to live in the radical way that Jesus calls us to, we are putting God’s love and mercy on display for all to see, and we are drawing others towards him through the way that we conduct ourselves. Authentic Christian living is compelling, and it has the ability to inspire others to live the same way. Only by living with God’s love and mercy as realities in our lives and sharing those realities with others can we truly have a lasting impact on the world around us.

The world is broken, and recognizing that brokenness can be disheartening. We’ve tried every way we know of to fix it and found that every method of human invention simply falls short. But there is a solution to the corruption of the human heart, and it lies at the heart of God. Some of us have personally experienced the redemption that God’s love and mercy offer us; others have not. But it’s available to all, and it’s the responsibility of those of us who’ve experienced God’s grace to live into it, to share it with others, and in this way to begin to transform the world into a more loving, less broken place.

The Best Kind of Tired

I spent the last week in Louisville, Kentucky, working with children at the Free Will Baptist National Convention, my denomination's annual gathering. It was a great conference filled with worship services, choir practices, Bible competitions, and tons of quality time with great friends. But the overwhelming feeling I get as I reflect on my experience is simply exhaustion. After a week of hard work and the brutal schedule that conferences impose, I’m tired.

And I don’t think that’s a bad thing. In fact, I find it entirely appropriate. If I weren’t tired after a week like last week, it would probably be an indication that something had gone terribly wrong. Because even though I don’t like feeling tired and do my best to avoid it, there are times when tired is the best thing I possibly could be.

We often think of exhaustion as an indication that a person isn’t taking take of themselves, and I’ll admit that I’ve put myself in that position before. But that isn’t always the case. I don’t think it’s true for my current situation. Did I get as much rest over the past week as I should have? Probably not. But that’s not the real reason I’m so tired. If it were, I wouldn’t be writing a blog post about it; I’d be napping. Instead, my feeling of exhaustion came from a much more positive place.

The truth is that I’m feeling tired because I put all of my available energy into the tasks at hand over the past week. Whether it was running audio and video for a service, helping teach a song for the children’s choir, or simply spending time with other people at the conference, I didn’t hold anything back. I was totally engaged and willing to give it my all in order to make the week as successful and enjoyable as possible. And of course, that left me feeling drained by the end of the week.

This experience of being dedicated completely to something is not one I’m used to. Most of the time, my mind is being pulled in a dozen different directions, and I’m rarely able to focus on any one task at a time. As I type this blog post, I’m exporting a video, uploading a file to a server, and trying to stay on top of my Twitter feed. And this is just a typical day for me. So when I get to a place where I’m able to focus all of my time, energy, and attention on what’s right in front of me, I find it refreshing.

And after the fact, there’s a sense of catharsis and accomplishment that simply can’t be beat. Like the feeling of soreness in my muscles after a particularly strenuous workout, I savor the inevitable exhaustion that comes from giving my all to something. It’s a sign to myself and to others that I really did do my best, and it gives me an opportunity to slow down, reflect on what I’ve experienced, and truly appreciate how wonderful it was. I’ve been blessed to do just that over the past few days, which is what inspired me to write this blog post.

These sorts of experiences can’t be manufactured or planned. Believe me, I’ve tried. But when they come, they are truly magical. I’m so grateful that I was able to go to the conference this year and give my all to make it the best it could be. I only hope that the next time I’m feeling this tired, it’s because I gave my all to something, because this is the best kind of tired that there is.

Outrunning the Apple Watch

When the Apple Watch was first released, no one really knew what it was. Was it a computer for your wrist? A fashion piece? A fitness tracker? Or something else? To be fair, the smartwatch market was—and still is—in its infancy, so it’s understandable that there would be some growing pains. But in the time since they first announced the Watch, Apple has been forced to refine their approach and decide what exactly the device is for and who it should be marketed to. One of those key demographics: athletes.

I wouldn’t consider myself athletic by any means. I played football for one season in junior high school and absolutely hated it; that was the extent of my sports career. But after I graduated from college, I took up running as a way of staying active and quickly found that I love it. The feeling of the wind against me, the soreness in my muscles after a good workout, and the sense of achievement I gain from constantly pushing myself to improve are just a few of the things I enjoy most about running. Not to mention that I simply look and feel better when I’m saying active.

When I first bought my Apple Watch, I didn’t take its fitness tracking features too seriously. Sure, it was cool that I could get a snapshot of my heart rate and an estimate of the number of calories I burned each run, but it seemed more like a gimmick than anything else. But as the Watch became more and more a part of my everyday life and I heard message after message from Apple about what a great fitness tracker the device was supposed to be, I started to pay more attention, and I wasn’t entirely impressed with what I found. Comparing the data provided by my Watch with other sources (especially workout machines and my own experience while running) led to me to a startling conclusion: Even though I’m not a particularly good runner, I’m pushing the Apple Watch to (and sometimes even past) its limit when it comes to fitness tracking.

I’ve found the Watch to be limited in its fitness tracking capabilities in two key areas: distance and heart rate. The first is more forgivable. I tend to run on a treadmill rather than on the street, which means the Watch has to depend on its accelerometer rather than GPS to measure how far I run. Basically, the Watch acts as a pedometer, estimating my distance by the back-and-forth movements made by my arms as I run. Maybe the Watch just doesn’t like my stride or pace, but it consistently measures my running distance well below the measurement I get from the treadmill, which I assume to be more accurate. This is frustrating because I use the Health app to keep a record of my exercise, and this limitation leaves me with underestimated statistics.

But even more frustrating is the heart rate problem. Independent research has concluded that the Apple Watch has the most accurate heart rate monitor of all wearable technologies on the consumer market, and the sensor has proven able to detect health issues in people wearing the Watch long before other symptoms arise. At least on paper, the heart rate monitor in the Apple Watch seems pretty incredible.

Why is it, then, that every time I go for a run, the heart monitor freaks out intermittently and simply stops working? I keep the Watch attached tightly to my wrist throughout my exercise routine, sometimes even adjusting it to fit more snugly if it starts to slip due to sweat. And yet, it seems that every time I work out, the heart rate indicator on the little screen goes dark for at least a few minutes, and I have no idea how this is affecting the results that the Watch reports at the end of each run.

I can’t be sure, but it is my suspicion that the Watch's heart rate monitor can only measure up to a certain level before it gets overwhelmed and starts losing count. It seems that if I go past 170 BPM (heartbeats per minute), the Watch just sort of gives up and stops counting until the rate comes back down. This seems like a pretty low bar, considering the fact that athletes can push themselves well past 170 BPM during training, so if Apple is serious about making the Watch the go-to wearable for athletes, they should probably upgrade the heart sensor's capabilities.

Apple seems to be aware of these issues and is working to rectify them. At this year’s Worldwide Developer Conference, CEO Tim Cook announced a new set of software tools called GymKit that will allow workout machine makers to make their machines sync with Apple Watches via near-field communications to ensure that each device is measuring and sharing the data it is best suited for. But it is unclear if these features will be available on existing machines or will roll out slowly as gyms buy new models. I’m keeping my fingers crossed. GymKit is certainly a step in the right direction, and it indicates Apple’s commitment to making the Watch the perfect wearable for athletes, but it remains to be seen if these changes will be enough.

I don’t mean to be hyper-critical. The Apple Watch is a great device, and it is certainly the best wearable on the market right now. For most people and most use cases, its activity tracking capabilities are more than adequate. But Apple wants the Watch to be for athletes, and they are the power users of wearable technology, the ones who push their devices to the limit. The Watch is going to have to step it up in order to keep up with runners like me.

Does Prayer "Work"?

It’s one of the oldest questions in the book. Besides the theodicy question (which we’ll leave for another blog post), it’s probably the most common question asked by and of people of faith in the 21st century. We Christians spend a lot of time talking to God: thanking him, praising him, making requests of him, and the like. And yet, it often feels like God isn’t talking back to us, at least not in ways that we can hear. So why is it that we spend so much time and energy on prayer? Does prayer actually do anything?

I think it’s impossible to escape this question. I know that I’ve wrestled with it myself. Even people with deep, sincere faith commitments go through times that force them to wonder if God’s out there listening or if they’re simply talking to themselves when they pray. It’s an inevitable part of the life of faith, and we shouldn’t feel ashamed for it. After all, if you find yourself asking yourself this question, you’re in good company among biblical authors, theologians, and great leaders from Christian history.

In order to answer this question, I think we have to be open to new understandings of what it means for prayer to “work.” If your definition of a successful prayer is one that is answered exactly the way you hoped it would be, then no, prayer doesn’t work. At least, not the way you’d like for it to. Rather, prayer works in other ways that are deeper, less easily recognized, and sometimes more mysterious than we often imagine. I’m not claiming to have this whole issue figured out or even to be an expert on prayer, but I would like to offer a few ways in which I think prayer does in fact work.

Prayer works as an act of obedience.

One of the most basic reasons that we pray is because God tells us to. Even when we don’t want to, even when we feel like there’s no point, even when we’ve said all that we can say and run out of words, we still pray out of obedience to our God. One of the most amazing truths about God is that he wants to be in relationship with us, and relationship requires communication. So even if we don’t think that we’re doing anything more through our prayers than simply carrying out God’s desire for us to reach out to him, we’re still accomplishing something by doing so because obeying God is ultimately what’s best for us, and he blesses those who do his will.

Prayer works as a means of formation.

A line I often hear in reference to prayer is the cliche, “Prayer doesn’t change things; prayer changes us.” While I fundamentally disagree with the first half of that statement, I understand where it’s coming from, and I agree with the idea that prayer does have an effect on the one who prays. When we pray, we’re communing with God, and we can’t help but walk away from that kind of encounter changed in some way. Even the act of starting a prayer is an act of trust that helps us to express and grow our faith. And ultimately, the more time we spend with God, the more we know him and become like him. Prayer changes us by forming us more and more into the people who God created us to be, and if that isn’t prayer “working,” I don’t know what is.

Prayer works by changing things.

And finally, prayer works by actually changing the way things are in the world. This is ultimately the reason that we pray, right? Because we believe that by bringing our concerns to God, we can somehow influence the situations and issues that we face in our lives. And amazingly, God made it so that our prayers do exactly that. I don’t pretend to understand all of the mechanics behind it, but my reading of scripture, my study of theology, and my experience in my own faith journey have all taught me that the prayers of the faithful somehow influence God in such a way that the world is different as a result of those prayers.

Diseases are healed through the power of prayer. Relationships are mended through the power of prayer. Droughts end, jobs are attained, and lost pets come home as a direct result of the prayers of God’s people. I can’t say I completely understand it, but I believe it because I’ve seen it and because God’s word tells me that it is true.

It’s important to note that not everything we ask for in prayer is granted to us. Although prayer is powerful, there are other forces at play as well—especially the will of God—that may not always line up with what we want, and we have to be graceful enough to accept when this happens without giving up on prayer. Like any good parent, God sometimes tells his children no, and that can feel devastating. But we believe that God, in his infinite love and wisdom, is ultimately in control and working all things together for good for those who love and pursue him.

And so we pray. Even when things seem bleak, we pray. We pray out of obedience to our heavenly father. We pray in order to become the sort of people the Lord is calling us to be. And we pray with hope that our prayers will influence God and ultimately change the situations that we find ourselves in. Prayer is a powerful thing, and when we properly understand what prayer is for, we can say with conviction that prayer truly does work. Praise God that it does.

Stunted Characters On-Screen (and Off)

There’s a reason we like coming-of-age stories. Something inside of us just loves watching the process of a character growing up before our eyes. Even more than our culture’s obsession with youth, I think this is the reason why the protagonists of so many films these days are teenagers. I must admit that I’m a sucker for these films as well. Some of my all-time favorite movies (The Perks of Being a Wallflower, It’s Kind of a Funny Story, even Scott Pilgrim vs. the World) fall into this category.

Another popular coming-of-age story: The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. This one’s a little bit different because the main character is middle-aged, but the movie makes very clear from its first few moments that he has a lot of growing up to do. Walter has great ambitions and a vivid imagination, but he’s so afraid of the world around him that he avoids any sort of risk at all, to the point that it significantly inhibits his ability to live his life. I disliked the movie upon first watching it because I found the character of Walter to be so emotionally stunted that I just couldn’t relate to him.

But the more I paid attention to character development in both movies and TV shows, the more I noticed that almost every story’s protagonist is portrayed as significantly stunted in one way or another. Even characters who seem well-rounded and likeable at first turn out to be incredibly immature in a single area or trait, as if that part of their psyche suddenly stopped developing one day during childhood while the rest continued to grow normally. It’s easy to miss because we’ve grown so accustomed to it, but all you have to do is consider your favorite movie or TV show. How does the main character grow throughout the story? How far behind is he or she in those areas at the beginning of the story? If my experience with on-screen storytelling is any indication, the character probably starts well behind what would be considered normal for someone of his or her age.

But one has to wonder how realistic these portrayals really are. After all, we root for these characters because we relate to them. Nobody’s perfect, and we each have areas of our personalities and approaches to the world that we need to work on. It might even be accurate to say that we are each stunted in certain ways by negative experiences we endure growing up.

But do you know anyone who’s really as afraid of tasking risks as Walter Mitty, who at the beginning of the story is too scared to even fill out an online dating profile for fear of being rejected? Onscreen, it may seem endearing and even relatable, but in real life, someone with that level of fear would probably be considered mentally ill. In order to make Walter’s traits clear, the creators of the film have used exaggeration in his portrayal.

This exaggeration stems from a basic rule of storytelling: Show, don’t tell. If the narrator of the film simply told us that Walter was afraid of the world around him, we may not understand the depths of his struggle, and we certainly wouldn’t be as interested in his story. This exaggeration very clearly states what his problem is, making it all the more clear and satisfying as we watch him overcome these issues throughout the film.

Exaggeration is a necessary part of storytelling, but it’s a double-edged sword. Storytellers can rely on the tool too much and become lazy. Instead of showing us the story of a flawed person becoming extraordinary, they show us the story of an abnormally stunted person becoming normal, hoping that we’ll be impressed despite the low bar that they have set for their character. It’s not their fault, really. It’s become an accepted part of telling stories these days. But I think that this kind of storytelling can become dangerous when viewers are exposed to it over and over uncritically.

And this becomes even more of an issue with television shows. I’ve recently been binge-watching the Ryan Murphy dramedy Glee, which ran on Fox a few years back. The show centers on a high school show choir and the so-called educators who influence them. I can’t really call them “teachers” because it often feels like the adults on the show are less mature than the students, using the kids to fulfill their own lost dreams and to manipulate one another, often to the detriment of the students’ educations. They’re actually quite abhorrent people.

Until the season finale, of course, when everyone learns their lesson and emerges from their struggles having become a better person for them. This is typical of the storytelling style I’ve outlined above. But the problem with TV shows (and, to a lesser degree, with movie sequels) is that if a story resonates with a lot of people, the storytellers are expected to use the same characters to tell a similarly compelling story again. This means that the same characters the audience has watched grow over the past season must now start over in a new area of growth (or potentially fall back into the same old, bad habits from when the audience first meets them) and start the process all over again.

This cycle of going from stuntedness to growth back to stuntedness over and over might have the effect of further normalizing immaturity and selfishness beyond even the storytelling trope of exaggeration, and this could be a huge problem. We are affected, informed, and even formed by the media we consume. We aspire to be like our favorite TV and movie characters, and if we spend years watching them act in ways that are completely unacceptable and abnormal, we may eventually accept this sort of stuntedness as a normal aspect of life, which leads us dangerously close to simply accepting any stuntedness, immaturity, or selfishness we may recognize in ourselves.

Maybe I’m being overly dramatic. Maybe I’m thinking way too much about this, and it really isn’t as much of an issue as I fear. But as a massive consumer of media myself, I know that I’ve personally felt the effects of this phenomenon, and I don’t need any extra forces in my life pushing me towards complacency. Ultimately, the stories we tell and the stories we listen to form the people that we become, and I want to seek out stories that enrich my life and encourage me to be all that I can be, or at least learn to cut through the misused exaggeration and interpret stories in that way. I’d encourage you to do the same if you, like me, are concerned about the way that storytelling’s power is being used in media today.