Skip to main content

My Burden to Bear? (Or, Osteen, O'Reilly and Me)


A few days ago I did something I promised myself I would never do: I watched a sermon by Joel Osteen. The reason I try not to watch Osteen is because it always gets me riled up—he and I never seem to see eye-to-eye (To put it mildly). But one good thing did come out of this particular instance: it gave me the motivation to write this post, which I hope will end up as something more significant than a simple reactionary tirade.
In his April 21st sermon, Joel Osteen gave a sermon entitled, “Taking Control of Your Happiness.” During the sermon he talked about those situations in which the people around us expect us to make them happy, to give them all of our time and attention, etc. Dealing with this kind of people can be exhausting, emotionally, mentally and physically. So the question is, how should we respond to such people? What do we owe them?

Osteen answered the question by telling his congregation that a person is not responsible for the happiness of everyone around them. It is not my job to make every person I know happy all the time—that is a burden too big for anyone to bear. Some people just want to be unhappy, and that is not my fault. Therefore we should free ourselves from the expectation of making everyone happy and focus instead on living our lives to the fullest.

To illustrate this point, Osteen divided people into four categories, based on the principles of flight: lift, thrust, weight and drag. There are some people who lift us up, brightening our days and making us feel better on a bad day. There are some people who give us thrust, motivating us to live our lives and reach our goals. Then there are some people who are weights, who hang on the people around them and expect everyone else to hold them up. There are also people who are drags, who hold us back from our goals and expect us to drag them along. Osteen told his congregation that they should spend time with lifters and thrusters, and limit their time with people who will only weigh or drag them down. In this way they can “take control of [their] happiness.”

Now, the easy argument here is to point out the logical contradiction in Osteen’s view. See, if we define our relationships by lift, thrust, weight and drag, we immediately run into a problem: if a person in my life is a lifter, and I rely on him to lift me up and brighten my day, then from his point of view I am a weight. If a person in my life is a thruster, and I rely on him to give me motivation, then from his point of view I am a drag. So by telling me to spend time with lifters and thrusters, Osteen is telling me to be a weight and drag on those other people. This kind of view only works if I care only about myself, and I don’t care about my effect on the other person. It forces me to focus on the benefits of my relationship for me, and ignore the cost it has for other people. Relationships become competitions, seeing who can get the most lift and thrust from other people while allowing the least amount of weight and drag on their own lives.

Such an argument, however, is really just the basic critique of Prosperity Theology—I expect that one could find the same kind of self-centeredness masquerading as empowerment in all of Osteen’s sermons. Here I want to talk about something more specific.The question Osteen raises is, how far should Christians allow others to weigh and drag them down? Our consciences often push us to be totally self-sacrificial and try and please everyone all the time. Osteen’s basic argument, however, seems to be that there are limits to our self-sacrifice. At a certain point enough is enough, and we need to get away from those people who seem determined to be unhappy and make everyone else unhappy, too. And this is why I understand Osteen’s appeal: aren’t we all looking for permission to say, “enough is enough”? Don’t we all want to be able to draw a line and say, “This has gone too far”? It’s no wonder people flock to messages like these. However, we have to ask ourselves, do Christians really have permission to do that? Does the Gospel allow us to say, “Enough is enough”?

Let me begin by trying to break through Osteen’s image of reasonableness. After all, Osteen is a nice-enough guy, and his position seems reasonable enough. In light of the Gospel, however, Osteen’s message is less admirable. I think the best way I can break through the illusion is by comparing Osteen’s message to that of another public figure who is not burdened by the image of reasonableness: Bill O’Reilly. Back in 2010, O’Reilly wrote an article responding to our very own Washington Representative McDermott, who had mentioned the Christmas season as a reminder that we should provide for the less-fortunate. Now, I am not taking a position on welfare or government support of any kind; but regardless of political feelings, any Christian should see the point at which O’Reilly’s response breaks down:
Every fair-minded person should support government safety nets for people who need assistance through no fault of their own. But guys like McDermott don't make distinctions like that. For them, the baby Jesus wants us to "provide," no matter what the circumstance. But being a Christian, I know that while Jesus promoted charity at the highest level, he was not self-destructive. (Bill O’Reilly, 12/9/2010, italics added) 
Do you see the problem there? Do you see how absurd it is to say that Jesus "was not self-destructive?” Stephen Colbert, a devout Catholic, had a field day with this comment, pointing out that Jesus was indeed not self-destructive: he was self-sacrificial. Jesus did not draw a line and say, “Enough is enough.” Quite literally, Jesus gave absolutely everything he had for humanity. To say that there were limits to Jesus’ charity is patently absurd.

While it may not seem like it, Osteen’s message is essentially the same as O’Reilly’s. The Gospel, Osteen implies, does not require us to give everything we have to those around us; it requires us to give only what we can spare without jeopardizing our own happiness. Again, this is patently absurd. Remember the parable of the unforgiving servant: he owed the king a massive debt, and the king forgave it. But when another man owed him a smaller debt, the servant refused to forgive him. This is how the king reacted: 
'You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?’ And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers, until he should pay all his debt. (Matthew 18:32-34, ESV)
Jesus tells us here that his mercy and forgiveness to us must translate into mercy and forgiveness for others. You cannot accept God’s mercy and patience and love, and then refuse to show the same to other people. This is why Jesus says,
For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses. (Matthew 6:14-15, ESV)
Let me propose, then, a different answer to the question, how far should Christians allow others to weigh them down? Taking a cue from these passages, as well as the Golden Rule, I would suggest the following idea as a guide: treat others as you would have Jesus treat you. Jesus clearly tells us that there is a relation between our treatment of others and his treatment of us. So if you’re wondering, “How long should I let this person drag on me?”, I might respond, “How long do you want Jesus to let you drag on him?” You see, Jesus is the only person who can lift and thrust anyone, but weighs and drags on no one. All of humanity is a drag on Jesus—we dragged him to the grave!—and yet we are a weight he gladly, lovingly bore all the way. And so if we are willing to let Jesus lift us our entire lives—for all eternity, in fact—then how can we tell another person, “Enough is enough,” and not be totally hypocritical? How can we tell a person, “you’re just too much for me to deal with,” and then ask Jesus to bear our every sin? 

I understand that this is a hard point to accept. Please understand, I am not saying that we should passively accept all of the manipulations and unfair burdens we receive from other people. It’s true that no one can bear that. But the answer is not to view those people as burdens and leave them behind in our own quest for happiness. Our solution is to lovingly, compassionately help them toward healthy relationships, making sure they know the one person who can bear the burden of all their sins and problems, Jesus Christ. All of us become weight and drag to people in our lives at some point—I know I do!—and we should remember that as we interact with the weights and drags in our own lives: treat them as we would wish to be treated in our worse moments, with the love and compassion of Jesus Christ. Every time.

Comments

  1. I don't think that someone must be a weight or a drag because they are with a lifter or a thruster. I do think two lifters can be lifters to each other and the same with motivators. Also, a lifter or motivator is probably not a lifter or motivator 100% of the time so it's nice to have someone to lift or motivate when you have an off day. Further, I don't rely on someone else to lift me or motivate me, but it is sure nice to have encouragement and to be with like-minded people. In fact, it gives me pleasure to encourage someone else who is striving to lift and motivate themselves.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Massacre of the Innocents [By W.H. Auden]

[From For the Time Being,  by W.H. Auden] HEROD One needn’t be much of a psychologist to realize that if this rumor is not stamped out now, in a few years it is capable of diseasing the whole Empire, and one doesn’t have to be a prophet to predict the consequences if it should. Reason will be replaced by Revelation. Instead of Rational Law, objective truths perceptible to any who will undergo the necessary intellectual discipline, and the same for all, Knowledge will degenerate into a riot of subjective visions—feelings in the solar plexus induced by undernourishment, angelic images generated by fevers or drugs, dream warnings inspired by the sound of falling water. Whole cosmologies will be created out of some forgotten personal resentment, complete epics written in private languages, the daubs of school children ranked above the great masterpieces. Idealism will be replaced by Materialism. Priapus will only have to move to a good address and call himself Eros

Works of Love XVIII: “Love for the Dead”

[From Part II, Chapter IX: “ The Work of Love in Remembering One Dead ”] “Weep less bitterly for the dead, for he is at rest.” Sirach 22:11 (NRSV) [1] With chapter 9 of part 2, Works of Love is beginning to come to a close. With entry 17, this blog series is also nearing its end. As Kierkegaard has given us a detailed view of what Christian love is supposed to look like, now he gives us a way to test the purity of our own love: look at the way you love those who have died. [2] We are to love everyone, and loving means remembering, and so we are to love the dead. But loving those who have died is a special circumstance, and it shows us what kind of love we are showing. If we reflect on the way we love the dead, we can see whether we are showing truly Christian love. Kierkegaard identifies three ways that love for the dead is unique. First, he says that showing love for the dead is “a work of the most unselfish love.” He writes, “If one wants to make sure that love is

The Temptation of St. Joseph [By W.H. Auden]

[From For the Time Being  by W.H. Auden, about the experience of Joseph after hearing that Mary is pregnant.]           JOSEPH My shoes were shined, my pants were cleaned and pressed, And I was hurrying to meet           My own true Love: But a great crowd grew and grew Till I could not push my way through           Because A star had fallen down in the street;           When they saw who I was, The police tried to do their best.