on envy

One of my friends had as a status update on the beloved-yet-hated Facebook: "Envy rejects the good life God has given you & obsesses over the good life God gave to someone else." It's been said that all evil often finds its root in another sort of evil. Pride, for example. Or in the love for money. We may as well throw envy into the list. It's what we find in Genesis 3: the envy of both Adam and Eve, the craving to become like God. In Paul's recapitulation of the Fall in Romans 7.7-13, he harks the same theme: coveting. Envy and coveting and all such synonyms point to the desire, the craving--the Greek word Paul uses for "covetousness" in this passage speaks of a burning, insatiable desire--point to the fact that we are, more often than not, ungrateful for that which God has given us. We always want more, and this no doubt is associated with Luther's description of the human condition, homo incurvatus en se: humanity turned in on itself. We're selfish, ungrateful creatures who so often forget the benefits of God towards us, creatures who fail to see the countless blessings he pours out because we're so focused on that blessing (which is always the one we don't have). And then when we get that blessing, we focus on another blessing. It's quite ridiculous. We are unable to be content, we are unable to be satisfied. 

I know, in my own life, that I often fall victim to envy. I fight against it, I really do, but it still creeps in. Granted I'm not as awful with envy as I used to be, thanks to the work of the Spirit in my heart. But that's not to say that envy doesn't get the best of me sometimes. I look all around me at my friends, and I see that they have great and fulfilling jobs, fantastic wives, even children. I want all of that, and I become envious. I covet what they have, I covet the blessings God has given them, and I become bitter, a sour-puss, moaning and complaining at the throne of God, wondering why he hasn't done likewise for me. And amidst all this, I fail to see the things he has given me. I have a job that pays my bills; I have friends who stick closer than a brother; I have a school debt that's nearly paid off; I have a warm bed and a roof over my head and I live in a safe place. I have been given so much, but in focusing on all the blessings God has given other people, I fail to do what Psalm 103 demands that we do: bless the Lord, remember all his benefits (not least how he has forgiven my iniquity, who has healed me of the most critical diseases, who has redeemed my life from the pit and who crowns me with grace and mercy. 

The Bible says that God blesses his children. It doesn't say that he makes them prosperous like Joel Osteen and others like him say; but it doesn't say that all we can expect in this world is to hurt and be hurt in a myriad of ways. There's plenty of blessings and plenty of suffering, and often the two are inextricably connected. The way that God blesses me is different from the ways that he blesses many of my friends. And as much as I may look at them and what they have in envy, they, too, are not free of this plague: they, too, look at others--perhaps even at me!--and envy. It just goes to show how narrow-minded and inwardly-focused (selfish and self-centered) we truly are. And yet God embraces us and lavishes upon us all sorts of good and wonderful gifts. It's really a testament to his grace, mercy, and love more than anything else. And you know, I may not have that which I desire so strongly--a powerful ministry, a loving wife and wonderful children--but that doesn't mean I am not blessed. I am blessed beyond measure. And to top off all the "material" blessings, there's the greatest blessing of all: I can stand in the throne room of God, forgiven of all my sins, my status before God that of a covenant member, a righteous person, a beloved child. That I can stand in the throne room despite my selfishness, greed, and envy is a testament, again, to the great love and mercy of God.

At the Claypole House in Cincinnati, the house church has a white-board with prayer requests written on it, and the very last one reads: "Thank God for something. And don't say 'everything.'" I have been putting that into practice for the last several weeks. It's so easy to just say, "Thank you, God, for everything you've given me..." but to actually sit down, examine your life, and to point directly at something, and say, "Thank you, God, for this..." Not only, I think, is that more desirable of God, but it keeps fresh in one's mind all the countless benefits that God showers upon us, benefits which we don't see because, all too often, we are blinded by our jealousy and envy. Thank God for something particular today. Imagine life without it. Realize how little you deserve it. And see how graciously and delightfully God bestows it. Thanking God for certain benefits its refreshing, an antidote of sorts to envy; and I think keeping in mind an eschatological world-view helps, too. When we focus solely on the "here and now," and when we make our lives with God all about what takes place in this present age, we miss that the ultimate salvation, the ultimate deliverance, the ultimate redemption has yet to take place (although it is secure for those in Jesus). A day is coming when all we will experience is blessing, blessing, and blessing, a day when suffering will be no more. A healthy antidote to envy is good eschatology, and when we frame our thoughts, stories, and praxis within the framework of inaugurated-yet-not-complete eschatology, then we can direct our attentions and energies to that which will last rather than to that which is passing.