How To Make A Pickle
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How to Make a Pickle

One evening my son, Jacob, and I decided to attend a concert at church. We left our house early so we could stop at a local coffee shop to get a soda for him and a cup of coffee for me. Over the previous few months I had been thinking about the need to slow down to savor life’s moments, so I was pleased that we had created some margin to spend a few moments together—rather than rushing, as usual.
Once we sat down with our drinks I settled in, enjoying the present moment. But Jacob chugged down his soda, began fidgeting and with typical adolescent impatience said, “C’mon, Dad, let’s go.”
“But we’ve got fifteen minutes.”
“Then let’s go . . . somewhere else,” he pleaded.
“Why? I want to relax and enjoy my coffee.”
“C’mon, please. This is boring.”
I had been thinking a lot about American “hurry sickness,” always being in a rush, and the causes behind it. Hurriedness is an inner attitude that is not necessarily caused by outer circumstances; boredom is one of its symptoms. The solution to the problem is counterintuitive: being present where you are.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I said. “We can go as soon as you notice five things about this place that you’ve never noticed before.” He had been in that same coffee shop a half dozen times before.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Look around the room. Look at the walls, the ceilings, and spy five things you’ve never really paid attention to before.”
He looked up at the ceiling. “Well, I never noticed that yellow thing,” he said, pointing to the awning.
“Good,” I said. “Keep going.”
He looked around. “There’s an apron pinned to the wall over there. Never noticed that before. Oh, and there’s a picture of a dog on the other wall.”
“Three down, two to go.”
“Um, well . . . those lamps, the brown ones—I never noticed them. And . . . the floor, it has gray and black tiles. I’ve never looked at them either.”
“You did it!” I said.
But here was the amazing thing. Instead of wanting to leave right away, he kept looking around. His anxious face now looked peaceful, even interested. Maybe it was the fact that I had turned it into a game, but maybe not. Maybe he was actually discovering something that had been right under his nose the whole time.
“Okay, Jake. You know your weird dad is always trying to teach you something. What’s the point of this little exercise?”
He paused for a few seconds and then said, “Stop and notice the world’s features.”
“Brilliant!” I responded. “Why is that important?”
“I guess because the world has a lot of things worth noticing.”
More wisdom! I was so proud of my boy.
“That’s right,” I said. “And I also wanted to show you what I’ve been learning for the past few months. You see, we get anxious and say we’re bored, but what’s really happening is that we aren’t paying attention; we aren’t living in the present moment. And we do that because we think the present moment isn’t interesting. But it is! You just discovered that if you stop and notice the world’s features you can stop feeling bored and start enjoying life.”
“Yeah, I get it, Dad. Can we go now?”
Okay. So we learn slowly. But at least it was a start.
FALSE NARRATIVE: MARTHA’S WAY IS BEST
Jesus did not have a lot to say specifically about hurry, busyness and distraction, but there is one narrative in the Gospels that deals directly with these problems: the story of the sisters Martha and Mary. They lived in Bethany with their brother, Lazarus, and apparently Jesus stayed with them when he was in town. When Jesus and his disciples came for dinner, Martha began to panic. She had too much to do and not enough time to do it—a recipe for hurry. Her sister chose not to help with the preparations but instead sat at the feet of Jesus and listened to his teaching. Martha confronted Mary about this and asked Jesus to scold Mary for not helping her: “Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me’ ” (Luke 10:40, italics added).
Being overcommitted, too busy and preoccupied are not new to contemporary society. Martha was confronted with the same dilemma we face every day. Will we take on too many things or be concerned about the wrong things and thus miss the most important things?
THE NEED FOR SPEED
Hurry and distraction are nothing new, but in our age we seem to have perfected them. More than at any time in history, we have become obsessed with productivity, speed and efficiency. Economist and writer Jeremy Rifkin notes:
We are a nation in love with speed1. We drive fast, eat fast, make love fast. We are obsessed with breaking records and shortening time spans. We digest our life, condense our experiences, and compress our thoughts. We are a culture surrounded by memos and commercials. While other cultures might believe haste makes waste, we are convinced that speed reflects alertness, power, and success. Americans are always in a hurry.
I believe he’s right. And while we increasingly move faster, we are enjoying life less.
What is the correlation between being in a hurry, noticing things around you and contentment?
Speed can be wonderful. I love the Internet’s speed. The fact that I can leave my home in the morning and be in Los Angeles in time for lunch is wonderful. No, speed is not the problem. Our love of it is. Our impatience has made life a dizzying blur. And as a result, our spiritual lives are diminished. As we try harder, we are becoming spiritually shallow and deeply disappointed—not exactly a recipe for a robust life.
Once again, Jeremy Rifkin puts his finger on our problem:
It is ironic that2 in a culture so committed to saving time we feel increasingly deprived of the very thing we value. . . . Despite our alleged efficiency . . . we seem to have less time for ourselves and far less time for each other. . . . We have quickened the pace of life only to become less patient. We have become more organized but less spontaneous, less joyful. We are better prepared to act on the future but less able to enjoy the present and reflect on the past. . . . Today we have surrounded ourselves with time-saving technological gadgetry, only to be overwhelmed by plans that cannot be carried out, appointments that cannot be honored, schedules that cannot be fulfilled, and deadlines that cannot be met.
How did we get into this predicament?
MONKS AND CLOCKS
The clock was invented by monks3. Apparently they had a lot of time on their hands (pun intended). They invented the clock because they wanted to regulate their times of prayer and labor. The Rule of St. Benedict, written in the sixth century, includes these words: “Idleness is the enemy of the soul, therefore all the community must be occupied at definite times in manual labor and at other times in lectio divina.”
According to Benedict, there are two activities that elevate the soul—working and praying. And they certainly do. The clock allowed the monks to precisely regulate their daily activities. Each day a monk would watch the clock and ring the bell at the appointed hours for work and prayer.
The notion that “idleness is the enemy of the soul”4 became pervasive in the monasteries. The monks felt that hard work was a way to serve God. But though they worked hard, they also spent four to five hours a day reading and praying, which go a long way toward eliminating stress. They had the clock, but they did not have hurry sickness. In a few centuries that would begin to change, and during the twentieth century hurry sickness would become the number one spiritual illness of our day.
In 1370 a public clock was erected in Cologne, Germany. The city passed an ordinance establishing the hours of the work day and setting curfews for the first time. Thus, clock time began “gaining the upper hand5 over Natural Time.” Natural time is organic: light and dark; winter, spring, summer and fall; sun and moon mark time’s passage. The clock on the other hand is an artificial measurement of time, breaking natural time into seconds, minutes and hours.
Monks invented the clock, but we cannot blame them for our obsession with speed. Technology is at fault. With the invention of the machine a whole new approach to work and productivity emerged. The machine is the model of efficiency: it works ceaselessly and tirelessly until it breaks down. We created machines ostensibly to help us become better workers and more productive, but there were also unintended consequences. We “invented the machine and then took it as its life model.”6
Instead of seeing ourselves as organisms—flexible and fluid, designed for rest and recreation, laughter and learning—we came to see the human person as yet another machine. The more machine-like I am, the better. Contemplation and leisure became less important. Then Frederick Wilson Taylor changed the narrative even further.
What is the connection between technology and hurry sickness?
In the first decade of the twentieth century Taylor took a stopwatch to the Midvale Steel plant in Philadelphia. With the owner’s approval, Taylor broke down every job into a series of tasks and timed workers as they performed those tasks. He then tried to find ways to perform the tasks more efficiently—he called it “the system.” The workers hated the system but productivity soared. Taylor wrote these chilling words in his 1911 treatise The Principles of Scientific Management: “In the past, man has been first7, in the future the system must be first.”
THE TYRANNY OF THE URGENT—EVEN IN OUR CHURCHES
Taylor was right about the future; the “system” certainly is first. We have unhesitatingly bowed to the god of productivity and sacrificed our wellness in order to appease it. “ ‘Taylor’s system’ is still very much with us8; it remains the ethic of industrial manufacturing.” Tonight I went inside a fast-food restaurant instead of going through the drive-through window. Why? The line was too long at the drive-through. I wanted my fast food fast. As I impatiently waited for my food, I noticed a digital sign behind the counter. It read: “AVG SERVICE TIME: 45 SECONDS.”
The manager barked out commands to every person on the assembly line, imploring them to hurry up. The reason? Her salary is dependent on that average service time. The restaurant is built on the dominant narrative of Frederick Taylor. Ben Franklin’s adage “time is money” is also a part of the false narrative. Time, of course, is not money. The narrative behind Franklin’s quote is that productivity determines value. As a result, we live under the “tyranny of the urgent.”9This gives birth to the modern obsession with multitasking, doing more than one thing at a time.
Do you live under the tyranny of the urgent? Why or why not?
The mantra of our achievement-oriented world is, “You are only as valuable as what you produce.” This leads to the narrative that what we produce determines our value, and therefore the more we produce the more valuable we are. What we did yesterday is old news; what matters is what we are doing today.
I recently read about a new phenomenon called “omni-tasking.” Omni-taskers believe that they can do more than a few things at once; they do nearly everything at once! We are guilty of this problem in our churches. Many Christians attribute their lack of margin to being overtasked by their churches. With a slight twist, churches sometimes operate under the Fred Taylor narrative: the church (not the system) is more important than the person. I know a half dozen committed Christian women and men who burned out by being overextended by their churches. Because they did things well, they were asked to be on more church committees and to help with more church programs. They became so busy that they finally collapsed.
Satan does not always appear as a red devil, a ghastly monster or the object of sexual desire. Sometimes he simply inserts a false narrative (achievement equals value) into our minds. Once that narrative gets firmly planted, we are headed toward destruction without realizing it. The narrative can sound almost Christian. That’s why it slips in unnoticed. We may even think we’re doing pretty well. But one day we wake up and realize that the things most important to us—time with God and our family, our emotional and physical health—were sacrificed on the altar of achievement (or the success of our church). And we have nothing to show for such an amazing sacrifice.
Like most false narratives, this particular one contains a measure of truth. Certainly it is good to be productive and to do things well. The Bible is full of admonitions to work diligently. And when people seek membership in a church, they pledge to serve it with their prayers, their presence, their gifts and their service. But we can be sure God does not call us to be overcommitted. We do it to ourselves by following the dominant narrative that success and achievement are more important than the well-being of our souls.
REALLY BAD PROPHETS
In 1967, futurists told a Senate subcommittee10 that by 1985, thanks to technological advances, Americans would be working twenty-two hours a week for twenty-seven weeks a year. The average worker would retire at age thirty-eight! They predicted we would have too much time on our hands. The reality is that since 1973 leisure time in America has decreased 37 percent. How is this possible?
Give some examples of how technology has actually decreased your leisure time.
No one can save time; we can only spend it. We cannot put time in a bottle and use it later. Technology does reduce the time we have to spend on certain tasks. Thanks to the microwave I can bake a potato much faster than I could using a conventional oven. Editing an essay on a computer is quicker than retyping it on my typewriter. Email allows me to contact a friend in England in a matter of seconds, whereas “snail mail” would take weeks to reach him.
So, where did the “extra” (not saved) time go? We use it on other things. All of these technological advances have raised the expectations of what we can get done, so we added more onto our schedule. We increase our workload to keep up with or get ahead of others. If we fail to raise the bar, we will fall behind, be less productive and thus feel less important.
HOW OUR LIGHT IS SPENT
The great poet John Milton gave us the phrase, “When I consider how my light is spent.” The elderly Milton wrote those words as he was going blind. He looked back on his life and pondered how he spent his time, his light, while he had it. Let’s examine how we spend our time. In a lifetime today’s average person spends11
six months sitting at traffic lights
eight months opening junk mail
one year searching through desk clutter
two years trying to call people who are not in
three years in meetings
five years waiting in lines
In a single day an average American will
commute forty-five minutes
be interrupted seventy-three times
receive six hundred advertising messages
watch four hours of television
No wonder we have the attention span of a ferret on a triple cappuccino. And what do we have to show for all of this added “productivity”? Health-related problems are skyrocketing and families spend less time together. In fact, the average working parent12 spends twice as long dealing with e-mail as playing with his or her children. In his excellent book In Praise of Slowness Carl Honoré tells how the book titled One-Minute Bedtime Stories13 came to be: “To help parents deal with time-consuming tots, various authors have condensed classic fairy tales into sixty-second sound bites.”
SOME THINGS CANNOT BE RUSHED
The most important aspects of our lives cannot be rushed. We cannot love, think, eat, laugh or pray in a hurry. Someone once said to me, “You know to spell love? T-I-M-E.” My children want my time more than anything else. My daughter, Hope, tells me that her favorite days are those we keep the sabbath in our home. We build forts, eat ice cream and play games. I play the guitar, and she loves it (no matter how often I miss a note, which is often). We cook meals together—no fast food! Giving her my time says “I love you. You are important.”
Taking time is especially important in our spiritual lives. In our spiritual life we cannot do anything important in a hurry.
When we are in a hurry—which comes from overextension—we find ourselves unable to live with awareness and kindness. Fortunately, God never calls us, as Richard Foster likes to say, “into a life of panting feverishness.” If we are overcommitted and in a hurry, we may feel like we’re being especially effective and that God is therefore proud of us. God knows quite well that our distracted and encumbered lives pull us away from the one thing we need the most.
JESUS’ NARRATIVE: MARY’S WAY IS BETTER
Let’s go back to the story of Martha and Mary to see what Jesus might have to say about our panting feverishness. After Martha asked Jesus to admonish Mary for not helping with the chores, Jesus gently rebuked Martha: “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:41-42, italics added).
I say Jesus gently rebuked Martha because Jesus said her name twice, “Martha, Martha.” He does this because she doesn’t deserve harsh criticism. Martha means well. She is trying to serve her guests.
Most of us do not need to eliminate bad things from our lives in order to slow down and find balance: Which should I keep? Bible reading or recreational drug use? We must choose between multiple good activities. We simply do not have enough time to do all that we would like to do. When we add too many things to our lives, something has to be eliminated. Unfortunately, busy people often rid themselves of the most important ones: relationships, spiritual practices and self-care (for example, eating right and exercising).
Jesus told Martha, “There is need of only one thing.” That one thing is listening to Jesus. Jesus did not say that the “one thing” was to obey his commandments (though that will come). The first thing, the one needful thing, is to listen to his teachings. The world tries to pull us away from this important thing. Martha’s way was good, but Mary’s way was better. She looked at the situation and evaluated what was most important. Jesus was in her home, and being with him was the most important thing she could do.
Remember George Herbert’s poem (see here)? The soul says to God, “My dear, then I will serve.” And God responds, “You must sit down and taste my meat.” Martha was driven and distracted by the need to serve. In itself, service is not a bad thing, but it’s not always the best thing. At that time, on that day, the best thing Mary could have done was to sit at the feet of Jesus and listen. Too many of us are trying to serve God without listening to God. There will be time to serve, but listening to Jesus always takes precedence.
THE RHYTHM OF JESUS
Jesus gives us the best example of a well-paced life. In the Gospels we see Jesus retreating to be alone (nine times in the Gospel of Luke alone). Jesus lives his life in perfect rhythm, the proper tempo, at all times. He will not be rushed. He never does anything in haste. I love this passage in Mark’s Gospel:
In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons. (Mark 1:35-39)
Notice the balance of contemplation and action, or, in the words of John Wesley, “piety and mercy.” Before dawn Jesus goes off to a quiet place to pray. He spends time alone with his heavenly Abba.
Jesus lived a perfect life of balance between rest and action. Describe your “balance.”
But his disciples panic when they discover Jesus is missing, especially in light of all the work that must be done. “Where have you been?” asks Peter. Jesus simply responds, “Let’s go.” Without hesitation he proclaims the good news of the available kingdom, and demonstrates its power through signs and wonders. See the perfect balance? He rests and recreates, yet he also works and serves.
Jesus’ identity was deepened in periods of silence and solitude, in time alone with his heavenly Father. That was his secret to balancing contemplation and action, rest and labor. He knew who he was. And for those of us “in whom Christ dwells,” the rhythm should be the same. As we spend time in quiet and rest and contemplation, sitting at the feet of Jesus, we gain strength to act in wisdom in the hustle and bustle of a busy world. In slowing down we can hear the Spirit whisper that we are loved, and then we begin to reflect the glory of the Christ who is within us. We become the kind of people this frazzled and frightened world most needs.
RUTHLESSLY ELIMINATE HURRY
When my friend John Ortberg took on a new and very demanding role in ministry, he called Dallas Willard for advice. With pen and notepad in hand, John was ready to write down a half dozen or more key things. Dallas began by saying, “Ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life.” John wrote it down.
“Okay. What’s next?” queried John.
“There is no next. Just do that, John, and you’ll be fine.”
Dallas knew that John already had everything he needed to be effective in this new role. John is one of the most brilliant and most deeply committed Christ-followers I have ever met. He has a great grasp of the Bible, a thorough understanding of theology and ministry, years of practice in spiritual formation, and the Holy Spirit as his guide. John did not need any new insights or techniques. But he needed to overcome the number one enemy in the spiritual life: hurry sickness.
Why is eliminating hurry from our lives so crucial? When we eliminate hurry we become present, or more specifically, present to the present moment in all of its glory. We become aware of our surroundings. We see colors and smell smells; we hear hushed sounds and can actually feel the wind in our faces. In short, we “show up” and experience the fullness of life. And that includes, not least of all, being present to God. If I am to live well as a Christian, I need to be constantly connected to God. Hurry is not part of a well-lived life.
It is possible to act quickly without hurrying. If I have only ten minutes to get from one end of the airport to another, I can move quickly without hurrying. Hurry is an inner condition that is fear-based: “If I don’t make my plane everything will be ruined. Life as I know it is over!” But when I walk in step with God I learn to say, “If I don’t make that plane I’ll be fine. God is with me. Things will work out. Meanwhile, I’ll move my legs as fast as I can while my heart is happy and unhurried.”
“Hurry,” said Carl Jung,14 “is not of the Devil; it is the Devil.” When hurried, we cannot experience life at its fullest; nor can we come into contact with our true selves, our real feelings. And even more important, we outrun God. When we slow down we allow ourselves to be found, found by life and found by God. When we practice slowing down, we are moving into the rhythm of God. When we eliminate hurry (our part, in response to God’s gracious call to the deeper life), the Spirit comes alongside us and strengthens us.
THE KINGDOM IN MY BACKYARD
One day, in the midst of my effort to slow down and become present, I decided to take an afternoon to try to live “deliberately,” as Henry David Thoreau put it. It was an unseasonably warm mid-February day, so I sat in an Adirondack chair in my backyard. Of course, the leaves had long ago fallen, but one bushy tree really stood out. Normally, I would never have paid much attention to this tree, and given the time of year I would not have spent more than a few minutes in the backyard. But there it was, and it had my full attention.
After a few minutes I noticed something strange about this tree in addition to its leaves: it had lots of tiny grape-like berries. I began to wonder why it was full of berries at this time of the year. Because I had been in and out of prayer that afternoon, I turned my attention to God and asked, “God, why is this tree full of berries?” Right on cue a little bird, the size of a finch, flew to the tree, skewered a berry and flew to a nearby bush where it dined. The Spirit whispered, “That is why the tree is full of berries.”
It was as if the Sermon on the Mount was being preached in my backyard. “Look at the birds of the air and how they neither sow nor reap but are fed by their Father in the heavens” (see Matthew 6:26). But the sermon was not over. The Spirit then led me to consider just how many berries were on that tree. There were thousands. And then I was led to consider how small those little birds are, so small they could fit in the palm of my hand. The point: God has provided more for them than they will ever need. The application: when we live with the good and beautiful God, we have access to more than we will ever need.
Have you ever had an experience like the berry-filled tree, where you stopped and paid attention to your surroundings and discovered something wonderful? Describe that experience.
It was a powerful sermon that I would have missed had I not been “foolish” enough to step off the achievement treadmill and plant myself in the middle of my backyard for an hour. Robin Myers writes, “In every waking hour15 a sacred theater is in session, played out before an audience that is largely blind.” I want to see this sacred theater every day of my life. I don’t want to miss all that God has in store.
This treasure is only found in the present moment. As authors Richard Bailey and Joseph Carlson explain, “Life is really nothing more16 than a series of present moments—one right after the other—to be experienced. . . . You are always living in this moment: will you live it present or absent?” I want to be present. (Isn’t it ironic that the word present is the word we use for gift?)
HOW TO MAKE A PICKLE
Not only do I need to slow down to grow in my spiritual life, I also need to realize that spiritual growth is a slow process. Making pickles is an apt analogy to the way we grow as disciples. To make a pickle we first need to get a cucumber. Then we need to create the brine and vinegar solution for soaking the cucumber. If we dip the cucumber in the solution and quickly pull it out, all we will have is a baptized cucumber. In order for it to become a pickle, it needs to soak in the brine for six weeks or so. Slowly and imperceptibly, the solution works its way into the cucumber, changing it to a pickle.
Making pickles takes six weeks, but making an apprentice of Jesus takes much longer. The great preacher Graham Scroggie wrote, “Spiritual renewal is17 a gradual process. All growth is progressive, and the finer the organism, the longer the process.” Human beings are finer organisms than cucumbers; there are many factors involved in our transformation. My mind, emotions and body are multifaceted. The human soul is a massive entity that changes very slowly.
I love the old story told by A. H. Strong:
A student asked the President18 of his school whether he could not take a shorter course than the one prescribed. “Oh yes,” replied the President, “but then it depends on what you want to be. When God wants to make an oak, He takes a hundred years, but when He wants to make a squash, He takes six months.”
Strong goes on to explain that spiritual growth, in addition to being slow, is not uniform. Some years we may experience tremendous growth, and some we see very little change. An oak tree has only a couple of months of actual growth each year in terms of measurable expansion, says Strong. The rest of the year, the other ten months, are spent solidifying that growth.
THE TEN-THOUSAND-HOUR RULE
In Outliers Malcolm Gladwell shares his discoveries about exceptional people—those who lie outside the norm. Though it seems some people are born with exceptional talent, Gladwell’s research led him to conclude:
The emerging picture19 from studies is that ten thousand hours of practice is required to achieve the level of mastery associated with being a world-class expert in anything. . . . In study after study of composers, basketball players, chess players, master criminals and what have you, this number comes up again and again. . . . It seems that it takes the brain this long to assimilate all that it needs to know and achieve true mastery.
He cites Mozart as an example. Most people know that Mozart was composing music at the age of six. But Gladwell points out that he was not composing good music at six. His first good work was produced at age twenty-one, after fifteen years of hard work, and his best work was not written until his late twenties. Music critic Harold Schonberg actually said that, in this sense, Mozart “developed late”!20
To become proficient at something takes a lot of time. But if someone wants to be exceptional, they need to put in ten thousand hours of practice. Please don’t be discouraged by this! I share it only to put the process of transformation into proper perspective. Many Christians hope that within a few months of starting a Bible study or beginning a new prayer practice, they will see dramatic change. When they see little change, they usually feel they did something wrong or didn’t try hard enough and discouragement sets in.
The truth is this: whatever we do to change, even the smallest steps, have an effect on us. Reading this book carefully and working to replace false narratives with the narratives of Jesus will help us make significant steps toward change. I am certain that the Holy Spirit comes alongside us and renovates our soul when we earnestly engage in the spiritual training exercises. But we must not expect massive changes overnight.
For example, I have been working on these narratives and engaging in these practices for over twenty-five years, and yet I remain a work in progress. But every month of every year I have seen positive growth in my life with God. Be encouraged. Change is slow, but it does take place. For many of you the change is already beginning. God is doing a good work in you, and you know it. Be confident that this is the beginning of new life in Christ. You must not have confidence in this or any other book, but in the good and beautiful God who is at work in you and has a plan for your life: “I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:6).
ONLY THE BEGINNING
This book was written to help you fall in love with the God Jesus knows. We cannot enter into a deeper life with God unless we know and love him. This chapter is a hinge between this book and a second volume, The Good and Beautiful Life, which follows the same pattern as this one: replacing false narratives and engaging in spiritual disciplines that help embed new narratives in our souls. This second volume deals with areas of human failure, such as anger, lying, lust and worry. What Jesus says about these things is opposed to the narratives we hear from the world.
Once we have begun to “pickle” in Jesus’ narratives about God, we can examine our own hearts and lives. Now that we have come to know the good and beautiful God, we are invited to the good and beautiful life. In the meantime, we must slow down and allow the narratives of Jesus to settle into our heart, mind and soul.