Bottomless Pit

The Sermon Study Guide is here.

Genesis 29:16-30; John 4:19-30

September 15, 2013 • Portage First UMC

VIDEO INTRO

It’s the same thing every morning in our house. The alarm goes off, I get up to get the kids off to school, then I lay back down for a few moments before I have to really get moving. And that, for some reason, is the cue for Hershey, our dog, to jump on the bed and demand to be petted. And Hershey is not passive, waiting for you to realize you have a responsibility here. No, Hershey is needy. She’s insistent. She will take her cold, wet nose, put it under my hand, and push up so that my hand ends up on her head, just in the right position to pet her. I tell her she’s the most needy dog I’ve ever had. She’s always wanting attention, always wanting to be noticed, always needing to be affirmed. And about the time I tell her that, I realize she’s not that different from many of us. We, too, like to have affirmation and approval. We like to have our work and even our very presence noticed. There’s nothing wrong with affirmation or approval by themselves. We deserve to be noticed for a job well done. An “atta boy” or “atta girl” at the right time can boost both morale and productivity. But there are times, situations and people for whom affirmation and approval become more than just a nice thing to have. They become a need, and we become like that pet that always wants to be stroked, always wants to be acknowledged. If we’re not careful, the need for approval can become an idol in our lives.

This morning, we’re continuing our series called “Empty Promises,” looking at the idols that make promises to us, promises to bring us fulfillment or “the good life” or whatever it is we might want. Idols are those things that pretend to provide what only God can provide. In the Old Testament, the idols the people wrestled with were little statues, false gods. And idols today are still false gods, but they don’t look so much like little statues anymore. Instead, idols are anything we put ahead of God in our lives, anything we wholeheartedly pursue with our energy, our passion and our resources. As Pastor Deb shared last week, sometimes they look like success and achievement. And other times, our idols look like things that promise to bring us affirmation and approval.

If anyone knew about the pursuit of affirmation and approval, it’s Jacob in the Old Testament book of Genesis. His name means “heel holder” or “supplanter.” He got that name because he was born holding onto his twin brother’s heel. Their mother, Rebekah, had a difficult pregnancy, because even in the womb, it seemed these two were fighting each other (Genesis 25). And when they were born, Jacob came out second, but he kept trying to be the first-born. In fact, when they were older, Jacob tricked his brother out of both his birthright and his blessing (Genesis 25, 27). That might not sound like a lot to you and me, but it was basically stealing his brother’s inheritance, using trickery to try to get ahead. Being second was never satisfactory to Jacob. Today, he would be one of those people who would step on anyone he had to in order to get ahead in business. He’d do whatever it takes. Being “second” was not good enough; he wanted the affirmation and approval that came in that culture with being first. He was his mother’s favorite, but he wanted approval from his father as well, even if he had to resort to deceit to get it.

So, the time comes, as it seems to always come to those who live to deceive, when Jacob pushes things too far and his brother Esau vows to kill him once their father is dead (Genesis 27:41). So Rebekah, the mother, helps Jacob escape and sends him to live at her brother Laban’s house, far away. Once he arrives in Laban’s territory, Jacob meets a lovely young woman named Rachel and he falls in love with her almost immediately. She “had a lovely figure and was beautiful,” and she’s Laban’s daughter. Jacob sees the hand of God working here; we always seem to see God’s hand working when there’s something we really, really want. And Jacob wants Rachel, so he agrees to work for Laban for seven years in order to marry her. Now, this sounds like he is buying his wife, but it was well understood in that culture that there were always economic implications to marriage. (There still are!) Substantial gifts were expected to be exchanged at the time of a marriage, and since Jacob has nothing to give, he enters into what was known as “bride service,” working for her family for a specified amount of time (Goldingay, Genesis for Everyone, Part Two, pg. 93). Even so, with that tradition in place, scholars agree that this is an unusually high price for a bride. Some sources indicate it may be as much as four times higher than the normal expectation (Wilson, Empty Promises, pg. 53; Ross, “Genesis,” Cornerstone Biblical Commentary, Vol. 1, pg. 174). And yet, to Jacob, it went by so quickly—it seemed just like a few days—because he loved Rachel so much. Or he loved the idea of Rachel. Maybe, if he had the beautiful wife, the successful career, all the stuff, the best camel to ride on, maybe then he would find the affirmation and approval he had sought for so long. So he worked the seven years, and then it came time for the marriage.

On Day 1 of year 8, Jacob goes to Laban, and he’s fairly blunt about what he wants: “Give me my wife. My time is completed, and I want to make love to her” (29:21). How does a father respond to that sort of demand? What Jacob doesn’t know, or doesn’t acknowledge, is that his deceitful tendencies are genetic. His uncle Laban has those tendencies, too. So Laban hosts the wedding, which in those days amounted to a week-long feast, and at some point, the brides are switched. Jacob takes his bride into the wedding tent, and when morning comes, it isn’t Rachel sharing his bed, but Leah. Leah the homely one. Leah the one with weak eyes. Leah the unloved. Leah the older. In the morning, it wasn’t Rachel but Leah. And Jacob has a fit. He confronts his uncle, who tells him that it’s their tradition that the older sister is married first. Hmmm, let’s see, who else tried to take the place of an older sibling? Jacob the deceiver has met his match in his uncle Laban (Ross 174). So he grudgingly finishes the wedding week with Leah, then marries Rachel and celebrates her wedding week. Jacob marries two women within seven days and then works fourteen years for the two of them (Ross 174).

And yet, if you read the rest of Jacob’s story, he’s still always pursuing something that is just out of reach. Jacob is always trying to prove himself, perhaps trying to outlive and outlast his name, “The Deceiver.” And that attitude, that mindset, invades his whole family. Genesis 30 tells the story of what I call “The Baby War.” Leah can have children, Rachel can’t, and then Rachel can and then Jacob has babies with their maidservants—everyone is trying to win his approval and affection. Leah even buys him one night to try to have another child. And Jacob, well, he’s always trying to outdo Laban. He’s cunning and tricky and sly and he grows his flocks to try to better than or at least to gain approval from his father-in-law. Later in the story, he is about to meet the brother who once threatened to kill him and he send gifts ahead, to prove how rich he is, or to buy Esau’s favor. Jacob is never satisfied. He’s always looking for approval and affirmation. He’s always worshipping at that idol, and it seems that every morning, no matter who is laying next to him, metaphorically it’s “always Leah and never Rachel.” He never seems to quite get what he always has longed for.

That’s because seeking affirmation and approval is a bottomless pit. No matter how much you get, you always want and need more. I know. This is an idol I struggle with, and I bet I’m not alone in this room this morning. And I’m not like some people who fault their parents. Mine were always encouraging and affirming. Maybe it’s part of being a firstborn, or being raised in this achievement-driven society like Pastor Deb talked about last week. But somewhere along the way I became an affirmation junkie. And when you are addicted to approval, you hear things differently. You can hear one hundred compliments along with one unkind criticism, and you know what keeps you up at night? The one unkind comment. I’m not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me. I’m telling you I know what it’s like to worship at this idol. I know what it’s like to be Jacob. Seeking constant approval is a bottomless pit; you never quite get to where you want to be. Instead, worshipping the idol of approval leads to three other things.

First of all, when we worship at the altar of approval, we end up with a life of mediocrity. When we seek constant approval, we end up following the crowd rather than following Jesus. It’s hard to make a difference when you’re constantly worrying about what other people might say, or who you might upset, or what might be misperceived. The crowd will always demand conformity. The crowd will always push back against someone who dares to go in a different direction until that one is made to fall back in line, to live a mediocre life. Remember, unkind criticism is the worst thing an approval addict can receive. “If you depend on other people approving and supporting everything you say or do, you will end up doing and saying nothing” (Wilson 57). Instead of following the crowd, Jesus calls us to follow him into all sorts of situations where we can love God, love others and offer him to the world around us. Just think about his situation in our Gospel lesson from John 4 this morning. Jesus is sitting at a well in Samaria, talking to a woman. The disciples have gone off to find food, but Jesus stayed behind. John says Jesus was “tired” from the journey, so he’s resting when this woman comes up to draw water. We’ve looked at this story before, so perhaps you remember Jesus is breaking all sorts of taboos just by being there. He shouldn’t be speaking with a woman, and even more than that, he shouldn’t be seen with a Samaritan. Add to that is the fact that this woman is five-times divorced and is living with a man who doesn’t love her enough to marry her. This woman has more than three strikes against her. Every cultural rule said Jesus, a teacher, a holy man, should have nothing to do with her. In fact, John says when the disciples come back from getting food in town, they are “surprised” he is speaking with her. The word there can also mean “admired.” There’s a mixture of shock and also admiration, that Jesus was willing to cross lines, to go against the crowd, to speak to this woman. In fact, it’s my contention when John says Jesus “had” to go through Samaria (4:4), that this woman was the reason. He came to reach her. Jesus rejected a life of mediocrity and instead lived a life of faith-filled risk because he didn’t chain himself to what the crowd thought.

The second thing approval addicts face is exhaustion. It’s tiring to have to seek everyone’s approval all the time. It will consume your life; ask any politician as they constantly have to make decisions based not necessarily on what is best for the people but on what will get them re-elected. It’s easy to pick on politicians, but most of us do the same thing. What do I need to do in order to keep everyone happy—whether that is in my family, my job, or even in my church? Thom Rainer, a Southern Baptist who writes wise analyses for the church, posted a blog a little while back about asking the leadership council of his church, twelve men, how he as a pastor should be spending his time. What should be his priorities? The results came back as follows: each week, they expected him to spend 14 hours in prayer at the church, 18 hours in sermon preparation, 10 hours in evangelism, 10 more hours in counseling, 15 hours at the hospitals and in homes visiting, 18 hours doing administration, 5 hours with community involvement, 5 hours in church meetings (and let me tell you, that’s a low estimate!), 4 hours leading worship, and 10 hours doing “other.” I don’t know if you did the math, but that’s 114 hours a week. 19 hours a day, six days a week, just to meet the minimum expectations of one group of people. That exhausts me just reading it. Your boss may have similar expectations, maybe not as clearly spelled out, maybe more unstated, but similar nonetheless. When we’re constantly seeking the approval of everyone, we will wear ourselves out.

John Wesley did. In the early years of his ministry, when he came as a missionary to the colony of Georgia, Wesley exhausted himself trying to gain the approval of the colonists, and yet he failed time and again. In fact, in one of the conversations he records, a man came to him and said this: “I like nothing that you do. Indeed, there is neither man nor woman in the town who abides a word you say, and so you may preach long enough, but nobody will come to hear you.” That’s a great encouragement, huh? Things haven’t changed much, because I’ve known pastors in my time who have literally worked themselves to death, and do you know what we do in that case? We applaud them. In one case I remember a few years ago, it was said it was so wonderful that he gave everything he had for the church. But what more could he have given if he had taken care of himself? How many more people could have been reached for Jesus? I’m talking about pastors because that’s the world I know. But I also know this same idea is present in other areas of life. Exhaustion reigns when we seek the bottomless pit of approval. In just a few weeks, we’re going to be launching Congregational Care Ministry. You can find out more about it, if you missed our Town Hall Meetings, at the Connection Center, but the idea is this: Pastor Deb and I cannot adequately care for everyone in this church. That’s a simple reality, and we have to risk approval deficit to be able to say that. But if we invest in you, then together we can care better for everyone around us. So everyone who is interested is invited to the training on Friday and Saturday, October 4-5, and then once you’ve been through that, we’ll talk about what role you might serve in. The idea is we serve together to avoid the exhaustion that comes when individually we are worshipping at the altar of approval.

Third, approval addiction opens us up for rejection—repeatedly. When we seek approval and affirmation, we’ve essentially handed control of our heart and lives to others. And you know what? Others will fail us. Not always because they intend to, but because we’re all human. Unmet expectations, words spoken thoughtlessly, disappointment, rejection, betrayal—all of these things can become the center of our life if we live only for approval. Others will fail us because, like us, they are sinners. We all trip and fall. We all make mistakes. Not one of us in this room is perfect. So when our self-image or even our faith is dependent on someone else, on another human being, we are bound for heartbreak.

Come back with me to the well in Samaria, where Jesus is speaking with this woman who undoubtedly had approval issues. She’s gone from man to man looking for acceptance and love, and every time, she’s been rejected. We don’t know why; we don’t know the circumstances. But she’s given up on finding affirmation and instead has settled for a safe place to live. If you were to look into her eyes, I imagine you would see someone who is essentially dead inside. Jesus points out she’s been looking for approval in the wrong places. She’s tied her worth to someone else, to a man, to a community that even rejected her. Most scholars say she was probably coming alone to the well at noon because she wasn’t welcome when the other women came to draw water. She expected to be alone here. And when Jesus gets too personal, she keeps deflecting the conversation. She keeps trying to talk about religious topics, and Jesus lovingly keeps bringing the conversation right back to her. It’s not about religion, he essentially tells her. It’s not about location. It’s not about ritual. It’s about a relationship. It’s about being accepted by God for who you are. In Jesus, she begins to see a glimpse of a God who just might love her for her. In fact, she leaves her water jar behind, runs back into the city which had rejected her, and tells them about Jesus. “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?” (4:29). She led “many Samaritans” out to see Jesus, and they came to believe in him as the savior just like she did. He even stayed with them for two days (4:39-42)—unheard of for a Jewish rabbi to stay with enemy Samaritans for any length of time! And yet, because of that conversation, this woman and many others learned to find affirmation and approval only from God, and to stop depending on others for what only God can give.

Do you constantly worry about what others might think of you? Do you not do certain things because you think someone might not approve? Do you replay criticisms over and over again in your head, long after the situation has passed? Do you believe you have to have someone in your life—a significant other—in order to be valuable and happy? Do you get anxious when you think that other person, that significant person, might be upset with you (Wilson 55)? Those are some questions that can tell us whether or not approval is an idol in our lives. What do honest answers to those questions tell you about you? Are you fighting your way to the bottom of a bottomless pit?

I’ve already admitted to you I’m an affirmation junkie. We all grow up in a culture that divides people, early on, between achievers and non-achievers, and we approve of the achievers and we frown upon those we determine have not risen to the level they should. Culture approves of and applauds those we deem to be a success. And so the desire for approval kicks in pretty early—at least it seems to have for me. I don’t ever remember not wanting to be the best, and so I sought to excel in whatever I did. And excellence is a good goal, but not if it means you want others to fail so that you can succeed. I would never have admitted that out loud, but that’s really what it came down to. I learned there’s a fine line between doing your best and having to be the best. Many of us are taught we have to be the best. And that mindset overflows into our relationship with God. We get the idea that we have to do certain things to make God happy and we don’t do other things so that he will continue to approve of us. I remember hearing a lot of sermons about what we should and shouldn’t do, but something I don’t remember hearing a lot about early in my life was grace. I may have been in seminary before I really began to understand what that word means. I had heard it, but I don’t know that I had ever understood it. Grace, to me, is getting what I don’t deserve. Grace means I am loved, affirmed and accepted by God, even if I don’t perform perfectly every single time. Grace is a gift. Grace is beautiful. Grace is life-giving.

Even coming out of seminary, I still pretty much had a head knowledge of what grace is. My heart still struggled to accept it. But in the last twenty years, I have learned to experience and receive grace in many different ways. In the first church I served, I thought I knew everything. I had a Master’s Degree, for heaven’s sake! And, you know, you come out of seminary with an overinflated ego. Any church is going to be lucky to have you! Of course, I was appointed to be a youth pastor, and the only department that I had taken no classes from in seminary was youth ministry. But that didn’t stop me. I forged ahead, and I made mistakes. I made lots of mistakes. The first year at Senior High Camp was incredibly hard (did I mention I had never been to camp, either? My first experience of senior high camp was as a pastor). And I look back on the sermons I preached in that church—Lord, have mercy. Talk about grace! And yet that congregation loved me, and encouraged me, and helped me become a better pastor. Grace.

Then we had Christopher. And four and a half years later, Rachel. And I learned grace all over again. Because we made and continue to make mistakes. I still think babies ought to come with owner’s manuals! And yet these two babies, now grown young people, loved me just because I am their father. We have our moments, and I still don’t get everything right. I figure by the time you’re old enough to somewhat get parenting right, your kids are out on their own. I’ve heard that grandchildren are the reward you get! But grace—it’s all grace. Love without strings. Acceptance just because you are. Grace.

But I will tell you that the person who has supremely shown me grace is my beautiful wife, Cathy. In just over twenty-four years of marriage, she has shown me grace upon grace and has continually encouraged me even when it’s been so very difficult. As every married couple knows, there are good times and bad. There are days of ease and days of struggle, and no one ever promised it would be easy. We get the idea that it should be, but it’s not. In many ways, Cathy and I are very different people, and for both of us, there are days when it would just be easier to quit. But you don’t. You keep on working on it, you work at making it work. There are times I know I’m difficult to live with, but every time, each and every time, I experience grace from Cathy. She is honestly one of the most authentically Christian people I know. I’m a better person because she’s in my life. That’s grace. And it’s hard to accept, because I want affirmation, approval. I want to think I do everything right, and when I don’t, it’s easy to beat up on myself. I worship the idol of approval, but grace is so much better. Grace is something we don’t earn. Grace is a gift. And Cathy constantly reminds me to settle back and let grace wash over me. The answer to worshipping of the idol of approval is to embrace grace.

Let me tell you how that works on a much bigger scale. God created you. God loved you before you before. And God is not sitting in heaven constantly pointing his finger down at you, making a list of everything you have done wrong. Oh, to be sure, there are things we do that are not what God wants. The Bible calls that sin. The Bible calls that idolatry, worshipping something other than God. But rather than pointing fingers, God made a way for us to be set free from all those things that get in the way of having a relationship with him. His son, Jesus, came to give his life so that we could be forgiven. I don’t have time or ability to explain to you exactly how all that works. I just know that it does. I know that when I gave my life to Jesus in fifth grade, he forgave me of all my sins, and he continues to do so. When others disapprove, when others hand out condemnation, Jesus offers grace. Jesus offers forgiveness. Jesus offers us what we don’t deserve but what we still get anyway. We are loved and accepted and welcomed into Jesus’ family. That doesn’t mean we don’t have to change. I’ve said it many times before: Jesus loves you enough to take you the way you are, and he loves you too much to leave you that way. That’s grace, and it’s the solution to the bottomless pit of approval addiction.

I wonder if Jacob ever learned that. We don’t get much of a sense that he ever really got away from his craving for approval and affirmation. In the end, he treats his sons with the same sort of favoritism that caused his own struggles. But I hope, somewhere along the way, Jacob got a glimpse of grace, of what it means to really let God love you. Even if he didn’t, you can. You can be free from the addiction to affirmation. All it takes is a simple prayer and a willingness to embrace grace. So, let’s pray.