Better than a model: four ways I’m trying to be a reflection
By LeRoy Lawson
To be honest, I’m uncomfortable with the assignment. How do I model my faith? Unless carefully defined, modeling could connote posing, like a striking person on a fashion runway. Or displaying, which is what manufacturers do with their annual new product line. Or seeking in some way to be cloned (“be imitators of me as I am of Christ”—Paul could write this, but the mere thought frightens me). However you look at it, whether posing or demonstrating or hoping to be cloned, the implication is that I want you to look at me.
Which is exactly what I don’t want you to do. In fact, when still a young pastor I resigned because I thought they expected me to be an example for them. I couldn’t pull it off and I knew it. I could only return to a pastoral ministry several years later, after I had learned that I didn’t have to be the example but was called to point to the example, Jesus. That I could do. That I wanted to do.
By then I understood that yes, Jesus wants us to be the “light of the world,” but lights usually don’t call attention to themselves; they shine their light on something or someone else. In addition, I came to understand I’m supposed to be not just humble, but completely humble (Ephesians 4:2). So there’s this about modeling: I can’t have it both ways—can’t be trying to attract attention to myself while at the same time humbly deflecting that attention from myself.
But I nitpick, I suppose. I think I understand what Dean’s request really asks for. He wants me to describe how my faith is acted out on a daily basis, without pretense but also without apology. Here are some of my goals, more often missed than I like to admit:
I’m trying to put listening ahead of talking. This isn’t an easy one. My dad used to tell customers in his grocery store, glancing in my direction, “The boy kissed the blarney stone.” Dad, who could carry on a person-to-person conversation at length, suddenly went nearly mute when struggling to talk to a group. He marveled that words came so easily to me. Too easily, I confess. It’s been a lifelong struggle to shut up and listen. Too much talking is the opposite of good modeling!
I’m trying to be more accepting of other people, especially when their choices are definitely not my choices. Here’s what happens when you listen first—you learn to see with another person’s eyes, hear with their ears, and appreciate that they live in a different world from yours. Listening has a way of blasting one’s biases, deflating one’s cocksureness. The tribalism that’s shattering our country will never be overcome until we learn to accept one another “warts and all,” as Oliver Cromwell would insist. This goal has forced me to take on my two biggest challenges:
I’m trying to be less judgmental. When I reread some of my earlier sermons (I made the mistake of publishing too many of them), I cringe. How easily I categorized and then dismissed people whose ways were not my ways, whose people were not my people. By excluding them before I heard them, I cut off any chance to learn from them—or teach them—or introduce them to Jesus. I think of my older sister, holding me at a safe distance, lest at any moment I should burst forth into sermon. She felt judged. Very poor modeling.
In other words, I’m trying to learn how to love with the love of the Lord. Nothing sentimental about it. Jesus’ love was tender but tough, unyielding in the face of religious leaders’ opposition. They hated that Jesus loved the very people they hated, to borrow a more modern term, the deplorables. Jesus never boasted, not once, that he only hung out with the “best” people. His love was scary—it led him to a cross—but in spite of the consequences, I haven’t been able to find a better alternative to his “way, truth, and life.”
Maya Angelou’s words are a helpful guide. They aren’t scripture, but they capture the essence of modeling at its best: “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
How do I model my faith? By trying to convince the people in my life that I think they are worthwhile—and that I learned of their value by paying attention to Jesus, the best model of all.
During LeRoy Lawson’s long career as pastor and educator, he served as senior minister of Central Christian Church in Mesa, Arizona and president of Hope International University in Fullerton, California. He also taught undergraduates and seminarians at Milligan University and pastored in Tennessee, Indiana, Oregon, and Hawaii. He is currently active as guest speaker, consultant, and author. He has published over 30 books. Joy and Roy have been married for 62 years.