Cynicism and Defeated Weariness When People Love Us Imperfectly
A few years ago*, one of our church’s women’s studies read Paul Miller’s book, A Praying Life: Connecting with God in a Distracting World. This is one of those rare books in my life that I re-read on multiple occasions. Chapter 9 of A Praying Life is amazingly profitable for revealing my heart and helping me to understand some of my recurring temptations in life.
(Don’t you just love it when an author, preacher, or teacher–or friend–does that? Shine that flashlight onto my SOUL! Give me terminology to help me to see things more clearly. I can’t repent of something I can’t name. I don’t know how to get help if I can’t even define my problem.)
The two helpful terms in Mr. Miller’s chapter 9 are cynical and defeated weariness. His words are the best for describing and defining them, so I commend the entire book to you and hope that you’ll read exactly what he wrote. But my notes on the chapter go something like this:
– Cynical is the opposite of childlike. Oh! How I long to be childlike—NOT childish, but childlike. Specifically? Like the little child Jesus took to Himself in Matthew 18. Dependent on Jesus. Looking to Jesus. Safe because of Jesus. Happy because of Jesus. The rest of the world growing strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.
– Cynicism in prayer can look like this:
— If what I prayed for happens? “It would’ve happened anyway.”
— If what I prayed for doesn’t happen? “See! Prayer is stupid. It doesn’t work.”
– Walking down the path of life TOWARD cynicism? Just BEFORE you get all the way to cynical, you come across defeated weariness. Ahhhh, yes. I know this place quite well. Even as I read those words last night? This is exactly what I felt—my spirit was beginning to deaden. I felt fearful, frustrated. But somewhere, deep down inside the true reaches of my soul, there was still a glimmer of hope.
– Defeated weariness and cynicism question the active goodness of God on our behalf. (Yes, yes, they do.)
I’ll never forget the summer we read and discussed those words as a group at my church. There’s something so good and real about “having to” process such intimate, hard things with real-live-human beings. It forces us to take our theology off of the bookshelf and out of the journal (and off of the strange world of email/fb/blog-land!) into real life. And don’t we all need to do that?
The longer I live, the more clearly I see why Jesus said that the two greatest commandments are to love God and love neighbor. Oh, oh, oh! Pesky ol’ relationships! Too hard! Too painful. Too disappointing and scary and frustrating. It’s so much easier to love God when it’s “just between me and God.”
I can be such a loving, gracious, and patient woman in the hypothetical.
I’m all about mercy and forgiveness and all of that! Right up until the point someone really, really hurts me. Judges me. Criticizes me.
Doesn’t even get to know me—just listens to the words of people who only listen to the words of people who despise me and then they all say with one voice: “You’re not good enough! You defile everything you touch! GET AWAY FROM US! Get far, far away.”
Have you ever been ruthlessly and gracelessly attacked? Judged UNWORTHY and PUT OUT (of your family, your circle of friends, your workplace, your church, the non-profit that you have dedicated decades of your life to)?
Are you even, right now, locked in a constant position of self-protection? Pulling back, hiding out, staying away—physically (not engage with anyone after church, skip small group, never join that women’s study, quietly drop out of that sewing circle or young mothers’ group)? Emotionally (OK. I’ll show up. But I’ll be guarded, oh so guarded, that you’ll never see the real me. You won’t have the opportunity to hurt me again. I’ll try to measure up and be good enough to avoid your scorn. But deep down inside, I’ll know that I’ll never be acceptable enough to you. So, “Hi. How are you? How’s your cat? Yes, great service. Isn’t God wonderful?” But no risk. No intimacy. No love.)?
Oh, friends. This is the battle. It really is. The battle to love. To keep risking, even when–especially when–people let us down.
All of Scripture is clear: for the Christian, love is not optional. But let’s just reflect a little on 1 John:
“We proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us … so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ …
If we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin …
Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness. Whoever loves his brother abides in the light, and in him there is no cause for stumbling …
Whoever does not practice righteousness is not of God, nor is the one who does not love his brother. For this is the message that you have heard from the beginning, that we should love one another …
Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love …
Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us …
There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. We love because he first loved us. If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.
And this commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother.”
Are you feeling defeated? Weary? Numb?
Is your life currently careening down the path toward cynicism?
First of all, please let me say how sorry I am for your pain. I wish I could protect you from unjust suffering! I wish I coudl make people treat you well. But I can’t. So what can I do?
Well … I encourage you to read Paul Miller’s book on The Praying LIfe. It’s great. Truly great. I think it might really encourage you and help you.
Also, please allow me to share a few words of wisdom from godly men and women in my church. As I have struggled over the years, they have said things like:
“Where do you turn, Tara? When you feel this sad? When you don’t see any way out? Any hope? You turn anew to the same place you’ve turned a thousand times. Ten thousand times. Away from yourself. Your circumstance. The other person. And TO the resources that ARE YOURS in Christ.”
“Remember Psalm 121:1, Tara! And lift up your eyes to the hills! From where does your help come? Your help comes from the Lord,who made heaven and earth.” (Amen & Amen!)
“Tara, people will love you imperfectly. Sometimes relationships are safe havens of deep joy. Sometimes we get hurt. Sometimes people claim to love us while they are doing selfish, loveless things to us. Be wise, of course, but always err on the side of love.”
How can we do this? By remembering God alone will love perfectly. He is always, at every moment, in every circumstance, working for His glory and our good. Always. 100%. He is perfect and He is good. We can trust Him. We can love Him without fear of being judged and condemned. (Because He already judged and condemned His Son on our behalf.) Now? We get to have the riches of God in Christ! His inheritance—ours. His reward—ours. The disgust and rejection we deserve has been put on Christ.
So what can Man do to us? Who can hurt us—truly hurt us? When Jesus says, “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33) Christ has deprived the world of its power to ultimately harm us. And so we persevere!
Trust God.
Love people.
Don’t give in to cynicism.
Grief? Sure. No problem.
Wisdom and love combining to have elements of self-protection? You bet.
But don’t hate. Don’t stone to death with wicked words and loveless, monstrous actions.
Remember that you have a High Priest who can sympathize with grief and loneliness at a level you will never know. (Betrayed by his closest friend. Rejected by His Father, with Whom He had never experienced an IOTA of distance before.) And He has ascended into Heaven to prepare a place for you in His Father’s mansion! Many rooms. Many rooms. And He’s coming again in glory to judge the living and the dead.
Maranatha! Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Be near me, Lord Jesus—I ask You to stay close by me forever and love me I pray. (He does. He does.)
In Christ our Hope,
Tara B.
[This is a re-post of a re-post from 10+ years ago.]