Do not set foot on the path of the wicked or walk in the way of evildoers. Avoid it, do not travel on it; turn from it and go on your way. For they cannot rest until they do evil; they are robbed of sleep till they make someone stumble. [Proverbs 4:14-16 (NIV)]
Peer pressure—as youngsters we succumbed to it because we wanted friends. When trying to explain why we couldn’t stay out past curfew, go to an unchaperoned party or date while still in junior high, our parents would say something like, “If your friends jumped off a cliff (or ran through traffic), would you do it too?” If you were like me, you relentlessly assured them that all of your friends were doing whatever it was and that all of their parents allowed them to do it. They probably responded with a serious warning about the dangers of peer pressure and dubious friends.
Unfortunately, it’s usually easier to recognize bad friends in hindsight than when they’re right in front of us. A perfect example of an unwise friendship is that between David’s firstborn son and heir to the throne, Amnon, and his cousin Jonadab. Described in various Bible translations as very clever, crafty, shrewd, wise (as in “wiseguy”), or cunning, Jonadab was precisely the kind of friend our parents warned us against—the inciter, the one who always seems to be around trouble but doesn’t get caught. In this case, Amnon had a serious case of lust for his half-sister Tamar. Although sex between them was strictly forbidden, Jonadab provided Amnon with a scheme that would allow him to have his way with the young virgin. Amnon followed the plan and violently raped his sister. When King David did nothing to right this wrong, Tamar’s brother Absalom took revenge and killed the rapist. Like a bad penny, it was Jonadab that turned up at David’s side to tell him the news. It was Amnon’s unwise friendship with Jonadab that started the ball rolling for the downfall of David’s kingdom.
While our friends probably won’t help us plot a rape, they can subtly affect our behavior in a negative way. Remembering some of the conversations I’ve overheard at the gym and around the bridge table, it’s clear that mean girl comments are not limited to junior high and mean girls can turn into mean women. It’s easy to be drawn into their conversations and cattiness and get led astray. Wanting to be one of the group is not limited to teens. Even adults want to feel part of a community of friends. We must be discerning, however, when it comes to choosing those friends. Our spiritual lives require friends whose faith will bring us closer to God, not those who will pull us away. We may be adults, but we can still succumb to the influence of other people and peer pressure. We need to “fool-proof” our lives and pick our associates wisely.
As he took us to the car rental agency, the van’s driver welcomed us to Cleveland, explained where to get gas before returning our cars, and reminded us not to text and drive. After asking if there were any other questions, a voice from the back asked, “What is the purpose of life?” The driver quickly replied, “Finding comfortable shoes!” While we might rank finding comfy shoes high on our life list, that’s not the purpose of life.
I’m not a good sitter and I’m even worse at soaking in a tub. Just wanting to get clean and get on with my day, I’m a shower person. Friends insist that sitting in the tub and reading is the best way to relax but that doesn’t work for me. I don’t have the patience to wait for the water to get high enough for a good soak or for the spa jets to work, I’ve never figured out how to turn pages without getting them wet and, rather than relaxing, I think about all the things I could and should be doing instead of sitting in hot water. I considered my inability to enjoy a bath when our pastor suggested that we bathe our decisions in prayer. Unfortunately, the same impatience that keeps me from enjoying my over-sized bath tub keeps me from bathing my decisions in prayer.
One week after Hurricane Irma, our Florida church met where they usually do in the city park. As the service began, an irate city official arrived. Afraid of unsafe conditions and liability issues, he insisted that the service be stopped immediately. While the senior pastor continued the service, our associate pastor tried to calm him down. He started by asking the bureaucrat how he was doing. The overwrought man’s response was a recitation of all of the challenges he’d dealt with in a city without power, working sewers or safe water. “No,” our pastor said, “I know the city is a mess, how are you doing?” He went on to ask about the man’s family, his house, and whether he was in need of anything. Instead of seeing him as a problem to be solved, our Pastor saw him as a person under a great deal of stress. As the two men talked and shared their personal hurricane stories, the official calmed. He finally took a good look at the park and decided the service could continue. This didn’t happen because our pastor won an argument; it happened because he saw the city employee as a person with problems of his own and showed that he (and our church) cared.
When asked about her boys, a friend used to answer, “They’re doing their own thing.” Years later, I learned “their own thing” meant they were breaking her mama’s heart with their addictions and run-ins with the law. Because she kept her pain concealed, she carried the weight of that burden alone for many years. We often hear similar answers when we ask someone how they’re doing— brusque responses like, “I’m fine,” “It’s taken care of,” or “We don’t need a thing.” Maybe everything really is hunky dory but those answers are often used when life has gone seriously awry and things are anything but fine. Those vague but terse responses are conversation stoppers. Even best friends, who suspect something is amiss, won’t pry and the subject is politely changed.
Most of us think of sloth as laziness: a dislike of work or any physical exertion. Having watched the local zoo’s sloth in action (or, rather, inaction), I think the sluggish animal is appropriately named. Spiritual sloth, however, is far different than being a couch potato. Originally, the sin of sloth was two sins: sadness and acedia. Compiled by Evagrius of Ponticus, a 4th century monk, these two “capitals sins” were part of a list of eight he believed to the greatest threats to devout monasticism.
Devotions of the Heart 