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As a child, I participated in the Calvinist Cadet Corps, my church denomination’s variant on the Boy Scouts. At each monthly meeting, we would gather in our gray uniforms (heavy-laden with merit badges) and recite the Cadet motto:

A Cadet must be reverent, obedient, compassionate, consecrated, trustworthy, pure, grateful, loyal, industrious, and cheerful.

Most of those are fairly straightforward spiritual virtues. But the last word always struck me as slightly out of place: is cheerfulness really a Christian virtue in the same sense as compassion and obedience?

That question sprang to mind today as I read a Charles Swindoll devotional explaining the importance of cordiality. The outward grace and politeness (or lack thereof) with which we treat others is a strong indicator of the state of our heart:

Being cordial literally starts from the heart, as I see it. It begins with the deep-seated belief that the other person is important, genuinely significant, deserving of my undivided attention, my unrivaled interest, if only for a few seconds. Encouraged by such a belief, I am prompted to be sensitive to that person’s feelings. If he is uneasy and self-conscious, cordiality alerts me to put him at ease. lf she is shy, cordiality provides a relief. If he is bored, cordiality stimulates and invigorates him. If she is sad, cordiality brings cheer. What a needed and necessary virtue it is!

What does cordiality look like in a Christian’s life? Swindoll lists out four simple ways we can communicate our love, care, and respect for others in day-to-day interactions.

Are you a cordial person? Have you ever considered that even your most minor everyday interactions with others can reflect the state of your heart? Consider applying these simple practices of cordiality in your conversations at work and home this week.

For such a simple-sounding task, giving away money sure can be emotionally complicated.

A recent New Yorker essay describes an extremely awkward situation that cropped up when the author loaned money to a friend, expecting it to be paid back over time… only to have the friend seemingly vanish with the loan money.

What would you do in this situation? The author pursued the matter through (unanswered) emails, phone calls, and texts, hoping to recoup the loan. It ends happily, although not with some further embarrassment: in the end, she learned that the friend had been repaying the money as agreed; the author had overlooked the check in the mail.

It’s a small matter of the sort that each of us will deal with at some point in our lives. But the following quote from the essay touches on an uncomfortable truth about money and charity:

I kept e-mailing. She kept not replying. Somewhere in the silence, I let suspicion breed. There should be a word that means “the fatal underestimation of another’s honesty”….

Until this episode, I’d thought of myself as a working-class girl who’d happened upon money, my essential character unchanged. But money is not neutral; it changes everything, including the ability to neutrally judge what people will or will not do for it. George Sand: “Charity degrades those who receive it and hardens those who dispense it.” Well, it needn’t, but it does the way I do it.

Is this true? How often do we make charity a degrading experience for both giver and receiver?

It occurs to me that one way we can degrade the experience of giving and receiving charity is by attaching strings to the action, as the essay author did. One obvious such string in this article was the expectation that the loan would be paid back promptly. But I think that even our “free” gifts are often given with some unspoken expectations:

We expect that the recipient will act grateful for our gift.

We expect that the money we give will be used wisely and in relation to the need that prompted the charity. In other words, we expect the money to be spent on food, rent, or debt rather than on a new iPhone or XBox.

We may expect that the recipient be willing to help us out should the situation ever be reversed and we need the charity.

Some of these aren’t unreasonable things to expect… but when we attach even a reasonable string to a charitable gift, it’s not entirely free anymore. That’s probably not a bad thing as far as human charity goes—when we give money to people or causes, we want that money to as much tangible good as possible.

I think this raises some interesting questions about the Gospel, which Christians often characterize as a “free gift.” I’ll talk about that in a future post.

What about you—do you attach strings to your charity? What are they? Do those strings change when the object of your charity is a close friend of family member? Would you be willing to freely give your money, time, or other resources to somebody if you knew there was a good chance that the recipient wouldn’t acknowledge it in any way… or might even outright waste the gift?

I’m terrible with names. I’m ashamed to admit that several years after joining and getting involved with my church, there are still a few fellow churchgoers whose names slip my mind. At work, I pass people everyday in the hall whose names I have forgotten or never took the time to learn.

As I said, it’s embarassing. And it becomes even more so when I consider how many actors, politicians, and celebrities I could name off the top of my head–people I’ll never interact with in any way, yet whose names and faces are quite familiar because of their wealth, power, and fame.

There’s power in knowing somebody’s name–and we can learn something about ourselves by considering who in our lives we address by name–personally, directly, and meaningfully. That’s one of the messages in this Slice of Infinity devotional by Marageret Manning. Manning describes her involvement with a homeless ministry that

made a point out of calling people by name. As we participated in this ministry to the nameless among us, we learned their names–Bobby, Jim, Fred, John, Daniel, and Carl. We ate meals with them, and talked with them. We listened to them and shared prayer with them. We picked them off of the streets, and brought them into a place of warmth and solace. Soon, we couldn’t walk the streets of Boston without seeing these faces as persons we knew by name, the same faces who formerly were without names. Now I saw Bobby, and Jim, Fred, and John–and I called them by name; they were known to me, and they had value….

In our culture, our worth is largely determined in monetary measures, and by our buying power. Money and power are the things that our society teaches us to value, and we name the names of those who attain high levels of both. But to experience the kingdom Jesus reveals we need not have money or power. Rather, he calls the least and the last, children and the powerless. He calls the rich young ruler to use his money and power to serve others as a means of demonstrating his citizenship in the kingdom. He calls his followers to serve one another with the gifts that have been given. And he calls us to know those who might otherwise remain nameless.

Each of us is “nameless” to most of the society around us. But God comes to us personally, calling us by name–and He asks us to reach out in the same way to the “nameless” around us, whoever they may be. Who do you “call by name” each day? Will you commit to engaging the “nameless” around you as you go about your life at work, home, and church?

In a recent advice column at Slate, a reader wrote in to ask how to handle an awkward situation in her church small group. (The relevant letter is the second one down the page.) A wife in the group asked the letter-writer to change her outfit because the wife’s husband struggled with lust; the outfit, while not inappropriate, might nevertheless tempt her husband to sin. The letter-writer went along with the request, but felt awkward about the experience.

This seems like an instance of the “weaker brother” scenario, in which Christians are encouraged to voluntarily refrain from actions that might cause spiritual problems for fellow believers who have “weak consciences,” even if there is nothing morally wrong about those actions. (See also Romans 14:1.)

It’s a well-known Christian principle, but it’s also a challenge to apply to everyday situations like the one described in the Slate advice column. If you’re not doing anything wrong, how obliged are you to change your behavior (or your outfit, in this case) because somebody else can’t control their lust (or other sinful impulse)? Where is the line between gracious accommodation of a weaker brother, and having your choices dictated by that brother’s weakness?

Have you ever been in a situation like this—either as the “weaker brother,” or as someone who voluntarily gave up one of your “freedoms” in order to help a stumbling fellow believer? Based on your experience, how would you counsel the letter-writer in the Slate column?

We all label people—it’s almost impossible to avoid. We draw conclusions about others based on their appearance and behavior (and sometimes based on our own preconceptions). Sometimes this is harmless and useful—for instance, in identifying a policeman by his uniform. But when we make moral and spiritual assumptions about people based on their appearance or behavior, we tread on much shakier ground.

In this Nehemiah Notes devotional, Blaine Smith writes about the unfortunate power of labeling:

Such labeling is a compulsive process that we can scarcely avoid completely. Yet the tragedy isn’t that our first impressions so often are inaccurate, but that they so easily get locked in concrete. They become still-life pictures that never change….

Just as unfortunate can be our tendency to label ourselves. Christ is working to change our lives, yet often the greatest barrier is our difficulty in letting go of old self-perceptions.

He holds up Jesus as the perfect example of somebody who looked beyond labels, always pushing past surface impressions to identify people’s potential. The most dramatic example of Jesus defying human labeling and judgment is in his treatment of the “woman at the well;” despite her sinful behavior, Christ engaged her and transformed her into a messenger of his Gospel:

Jesus was under no illusions about her past…. Yet he also showed great respect for her, privileging her with a private discussion about his messiahship.

Following her conversation with Jesus, the woman broke out of her shell. She returned to Samaria and declared to numerous people, “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Christ?”

John minces no words about the woman’s effectiveness in arousing her townspeople’s interest in Jesus. “They came out of the town and made their way toward him…. Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony…. And because of his words many more became believers.”

What’s most interesting is that Jesus allowed her to play this critical evangelistic role. She ignited one of the most stunning explosions of interest in Christ recorded in the New Testament. And all because Jesus saw beyond her immediate condition to a vision of what she could become.

None of us have Jesus’ divine insight into other people’s hearts and motivations. But Jesus’ example shows us that while we should recognize and respond to the behavior that people present to the world, our interaction with others should not stop there. The sinner who offends and repels us just might be a saint waiting for someone to engage them with the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

When you think about the people in your life, what stands out? Do their flaws and mistakes irk you? In this devotional, Dick Innes draws on 1 Peter 4:8 and an interesting visual trick to make the point that what we see in others often says more about us than it does about them:

…we see things not they way they are, but the way we are. For instance, if I am a negative person, I will see negative things in what others do—things that may not even be there—and be critical about them. If I am a supersensitive person, I will read into what others say or do and overreact—not on the basis of what they have said or done, but on the basis of who and what I am. On the other hand, if I am a loving person, I will overlook the petty faults in others and be accepting and forgiving of them, for love does “cover a multitude of sins.”

Indeed, what we see is who we are or who we are is what we will see.

Read the full devotional at Acts International.

Think about the people around you today—your coworkers, your family and friends, the clerks and passersby you encounter as you go about your day. What do you see in them? And what does that say about you?

Valentine’s Day is over, and it won’t be long before the flowers wilt, the mushy cards are tucked away, and life returns to its ordinary, comparatively un-romantic routine. Most everyone realizes, of course, that cultivating a godly, Christ-honoring relationship isn’t something that happens just once a year at Valentine’s Day; it’s something that must be worked at day by day throughout the year.

There’s no shortage of relationship and marriage advice out there vying for your attention. But I thought it might be useful, in the aftermath of Valentine’s Day, to point out a few good sources of Christian relationship guidance:

ACTS International’s essays on marriage and family are quite good, and covers many dozens of different relationship topics (including singleness, if you aren’t in a romantic relationship at the moment).

Winning at Home regularly posts short but useful essays about different aspects of marriage and family life.

Focus on the Family’s Boundless blog regularly publishes articles about dating and marriage, with a particular focus on the single life. Focus on the Family’s selection of articles about marriage contains a lot of good material as well.

What other resources, online or offline, have helped you build healthy relationships with your spouse, family, or friends?

New Moon, the second film in the ultra-popular Twilight series, hit movie theaters this weekend like a juggernaut.

It’s been interesting to read Christian responses to the Twilight books and movies; as they were with the Harry Potter tales, many Christian critics seem uneasy with this new and tangled vampire love story… but where it was shades of the occult that made some Christians nervous about Harry Potter, concerns about Twilight are focused on the melodramatic (but chaste) relationship between protagonists Bella and Edward.

Stephen Greydanus’ review of New Moon at Christianity Today explains why Twilight‘s primary love story feels emotionally and spiritually unhealthy. He’s not the only one to take that approach; and it’s not just Christians pointing this out, either: see this article explaining why the relationship between Bella and Edward is troubling.

Do you agree with these critiques—that the love story presents an unhealthy model for a relationship? Do you worry that Twilight‘s young fans will take away a misguided lesson about love? Or do you think these critics are over-thinking things, and that we should instead be grateful that Bella and Edward’s relationship isn’t reduced to gratuitous sex (a rarity for a cinematic romance these days)?

What do you think?

Our question this afternoon is a bit different from the last several ones, but I think it’s appropriate with the looming approach of Thanksgiving, Christmas, and those epic family get-togethers that characterize the holidays: how do you deal with the “black sheep” in your family?

Here’s an answer from Dan Seaborn of Winning at Home, a Christ-centered family ministry:

A wise counselor friend once told me that the best way to deal with family members—especially difficult ones—is to simply be a family member to them. What he meant by this was that we should make efforts to bring the very best of family into the relationship. We should lead with love, reaching out to our relatives even when they hurt, annoy, and offend us.

This sounds much less complicated than it really is, of course, because past hurts can run deep, and because if there’s anybody on earth who can really get under your skin, it’s family.

Think about it, though. How would things change if you made an effort to bring the black sheep a little closer to the fold? What would be different if you practiced extra patience, built a bridge, agreed to disagree?

Now, I’m not going to say that there shouldn’t be any accountability or that we should turn a blind eye to real problems.

Still, there should come a time when you acknowledge that this family you’ve got is the only one you’ve got. It might never be perfect, but it will always be worth making a phone call, having a conversation, having a laugh.

Read the complete answer at the Winning at Home website.

Do you agree? Are you looking at any difficult family gatherings this holiday season, and if so, how do you deal with difficult family members with Christlike grace? And for extra credit, rephrase the question to ask how we should deal with the “black sheep” in the church family—is your answer to that any different than your answer to the original question?

What do you think?

XXXChurch recently shared some statistics from a study about how iPhones and Blackberries are used. It seems that as people flock to mobile devices, they’re starting to use them for pornography and for managing parts of their relationships that probably shouldn’t be managed electronically:

The “study” involved polling 445 iPhone and Blackberry users about their relationships with other people and their kit, and discovered that iPhone users consider themselves to be extrovert intellectuals who know a lot about the media but find a lack of high-tech gadgets to be a turn off.

35 per cent of iPhone owners said they would find a partner with out-of-date electronics a turn off, though a quarter have dumped someone who was spending too much time playing with their phone.

33 per cent of those with an iPhone have used a text message or e-mail to break up with a partner – which is harsh, though nothing beats fax for that sharing-the-pain experience. When it comes to good news electronics are, apparently, out: none of those polled would propose marriage by text or e-mail.

When not dating, 20 per cent of iPhone users admitted to frequently watching adult material on their 3.5-inch screen, and more than 60 per cent consider themselves to be extrovert.

Porn use on these devices doesn’t surprise me; the adult industry always finds a way to exploit new technologies, and unfortunately far too many people succumb to the temptations they offer. (For what it’s worth, XXXChurch has submitted a version of their XXXChurch software to Apple’s app store and are currently awaiting approval, which should hopefully help those who want accountability find it wherever they connect to the internet.)

However, I was surprised by the statistics about ending relationships via text messages or email. It seems to me that you owe it to the person you’re dating to have that conversation in person.

Do you think that the advent of these technologies is making it too easy to pursue shallow relationships? How have you seen smart device usage affect your relationships? Have you seen positive change come about in any of your relationships because of technologies like the iPhone or Blackberry?