Contents
Under Pressure
Ephesians
4:30-32
There’s
a church sign that reads: “Some people
are kind, polite, and sweet-spirited until you try to sit in their pews.” My wife and I have—once—been asked to move in
a church we were visiting. Actually,
there was a reason for it. The woman had
a hearing problem, and that particular pew was right in front of the
speaker. It was the only place in the
sanctuary where she could hear what was going on in the service. We later joined the church and became good
friends with the couple who had asked us to move.
Still,
it’s a disconcerting experience. Perhaps
the answer is to arrive just before the service begins and not sit down until
the opening hymn has started. By that
time most people are established in their customary seats and your chance of
raising someone’s ire is minimal.
Of
course, there is another solution: sit
in the first couple of pews. Hardly
anyone ever sits there. I guess they’re
afraid of catching the preacher’s attention too much during the sermon.
It’s
interesting what sets people off. I
remember reading somewhere that it’s not the major problems that frustrate us
but the little things: trying to find a
parking space; not being able to get the necklace untangled; untying the knot
in a child’s shoelace; not being able to answer the phone in time. Life’s little frustrations drive us over the
edge.
Whatever
it is that upsets us, we know that somewhere out there is a frustration with
our name on it, just waiting to catch us unaware. At just the wrong time it attacks, getting
under our skin and causing us to behave in a way that makes us unpleasant to be
around. More than likely there are
several small things that pile on top of each other, until the pressure becomes
so great that we explode.
Geffory
Crowell said: “I was looking at an
aerosol can this week and saw the words ‘Contents under pressure.’ Some of us should have this pasted on our
foreheads.” I agree with him—to a
point. I believe most, if not all of us
should wear such a sign. While there are
some people who are walking pressure cookers, always within a few degrees of
explosion, each of us has a triggering point—the place where, if pushed past
it, we lose control.
Some
psychologists say that we can cure at least a third of our problems merely by
identifying them. Perhaps that’s
true. If so, getting to know our boiling
point and recognizing when we are getting close to it may help us avoid saying
and doing things that we will later regret.
I
think Paul understood the seriousness of losing control. That could be why he wrote the words of
today’s scripture passage to the church at Ephesus. When we lose our tempers we not only hurt and
upset those around us, we also grieve the Holy Spirit. If the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy,
peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control
(Galatians 5:22-23), then allowing ourselves to exhibit bitterness, wrath, and anger
is diametrically opposed to the work the Holy Spirit is trying to accomplish in
us.
We
know we cannot do this alone. We need
the help of the Spirit, growing within us, changing us, making us more like
Jesus Christ and less likely to let the pressure get to us. We can’t do much about the outside events
that build pressure within the aerosol cans we live in, but we can learn to ask
for help in letting the pressure dissipate.
If anger and wrath grieve the Holy Spirit, then certainly asking for
help in pressurizing times must be pleasing to God.
Then
we can change the signs we wear from “Contents under pressure,” to “Sealed by
the Spirit.”
No comments:
Post a Comment