No More Glamping in Gilgal -- FPC sermon excerpt

I am sure that my title today has you scratching your head, so let me begin with some definitions:

First, “glamping.” This means “glamour camping.” Although camping used to be a rugged activity, it is not always this way anymore. Today, you can buy a Coleman air mattress with a built-in alarm clock and night light. Tents are equipped with lighting systems and auto-roll windows. DirecTV offers a portable satellite and many campsites have wireless Internet.

This is “glamping” — camping that is truly glamorous, with all the comforts of home. It still gives you an experience of nature, but it is one that includes plush amenities, such as air mattresses with built-in speakers for MP3 players. I can assure you that I never saw any of this stuff when I was backpacking with my son Sam and the Boy Scouts!

Second, “Gilgal.” This is one of the first places that the people of Israel reached after crossing the Jordan River and entering the Promised Land. In Gilgal, twelve stones were set up as a memorial to the crossing of the Jordan River.

In Gilgal, the people of Israel were forced to camp. There was no glamping in Gilgal, and this was a rude awakening for many of the Israelites.

You see, for the previous forty years, the people of Israel had enjoyed a kind of glamping experience as they made their way through the wilderness, on the way to the Promised Land. For four decades of wandering, they could count on the gift of manna every day — this manna was bread from heaven that kept them from starving in a harsh and inhospitable environment.

But what happened after they entered the Promised Land? Joshua tells us that “while the Israelites were encamped in Gilgal they kept the passover in the evening on the fourteenth day of the month in the plains of Jericho. On the day after the passover, on that very day, they ate the produce of the land, unleavened cakes and parched grain. The manna ceased on the day they ate the produce of the land, and the Israelites no longer had manna; they ate the crops of the land of Canaan that year” (Joshua 5:10-12).

Surprise! There is no more glamping in Gilgal. The people of Israel had been offered a certain level of comfort by the gift of manna, as they made their way to the Promised Land. But now, after crossing the Jordan, they begin to eat “the crops of the land of Canaan.”

The thing to remember about glamping is this — it is a means to an end, not an end in itself. When tents are equipped with lighting systems, the goal is to get you out of your house into the wild. When environmental educators give a thumbs-up to campsites with wireless Internet, it is because they want you to go outside and begin to care about the conservation of nature. Glamping is an odd but acceptable means to a very good end.

Same for manna. God provided it to the Israelites so that they could survive their journey across the wilderness and grow in faith along the way. But once they reached the Promised Land, no more manna. Sure, there were probably some people who wanted it to continue — the same types that don’t want to give up their air-mattress MP3 speakers, even after they have been serenaded by the gentle laughter of a mountain stream. But God knows that these crutches have to go, once people are ready to walk on their own.

A Field Guide to Narcissism - FPC sermon excerpt

“Vanity of vanities! All is vanity” (Ecclesiastes 1:2).

The author of Ecclesiastes is convinced that the whole of human existence can be described by this single word: Vanity.

The writer of this book is called the Teacher. He takes a cold-eyed look at the world, and he is certainly not the philosopher to turn to if you need some cheering up. “All is vanity,” he insists. All is worthless, meaningless, absurd. As solid as vapor, fog, and steam. The Teacher surveys society and spots pride in human appearance and accomplishments. He looks around and sees narcissism — excessive self-love and admiration.

Our world has a vanity problem, according to the Teacher. And it is only getting worse.

- There’s the groom who won’t let his bride’s overweight friend be a bridesmaid because he doesn’t want her to mess up the wedding pictures.
- The woman who has such confidence in her impeccable taste that she routinely redecorates her daughter’s home. Without asking.
- The guy who thinks that he is so handsome that he takes a self-portrait every night before bed, just to preserve the moment.
- The parents who believe that their children are so gifted and talented that it would be a supreme injustice for them to be denied the chance to attend the elite university of their choice.
- Then there’s business tycoon Ted Turner, who once said, “If I only had a little humility, I’d be perfect.”

Vanity of vanities! All is vanity.

According to Psychology Today (January 1, 2006), narcissism can range from an annoying tendency to a serious clinical disorder. I’m not just talking about people who imitate the character Narcissus — the handsome young man of Greek mythology who gazed forever at his own reflection in a pool of water. People with this kind of vanity are pathetic, but basically harmless.

No, real-life narcissists desperately need other people to validate their own worth. They are the reality show contestants who want to be famous for being famous, and will do anything to get on TV. The parents of the “balloon boy,” who involve their child in a dangerous stunt to draw attention to themselves. The White House party-crashers who slip through a crack in security and then post their exploits on Facebook.

“It’s not so much being liked,” says a social psychologist at Florida State University. “It’s much more important to be admired. Studies have shown narcissists are willing to sacrifice being liked if they think it’s necessary to be admired.”

This craving for admiration is a red flag, one of the clearest warning signs of narcissism. It pops up in weddings, in home decorations, in cosmetic surgery, in college admissions. I know I have a touch of narcissism, wanting to be admired for my preaching and writing and parenting and triathlon training. But I don’t like it — I know how dangerous it can be. So how can we spot this tendency in ourselves and in the people around us? And what can we do about it?

We can begin by looking at the Book of Ecclesiastes as a field guide to narcissism.

The Teacher of Ecclesiastes begins by using his mind “to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven” (1:13). He examines all the human deeds that are done under the sun, and what does he conclude? “All is vanity and a chasing after wind. What is crooked cannot be made straight, and what is lacking cannot be counted” (vv. 14-15).

At first glance, this seems to be a completely depressing picture of human life. It is hard to accept that the Teacher believes that absolutely everything is meaningless, and that nothing that is crooked can be made straight. But remember, the first characteristic of true narcissists is that they need to be admired. They win a trophy in an office sports competition, and show it off for months. They cover their walls with awards and plaques and pictures of them shaking hands with famous people. The balloon of their self-esteem is punctured by the Teacher’s assertion that “all is vanity and a chasing after wind.”

The Teacher is saying that we cannot get our self-worth from our accomplishments. We shouldn’t be admired for our deeds. Instead, our worth comes completely from being children of God. And that means that we are all equal in the eyes of the Lord. Every single one of us.

Narcissists hate that!