Who among us, if given the possibility, wouldn’t take an extra hour in the day or an extra day in the week?
We stuff life to the fullest and then sprinkle more on the top. Why put your kid in one club when you can put them in a club and a sport? Why follow one sport, when you can follow all the major sports? Why be smart, when you can be smart and healthy? Our flesh tempts us to pack more in; Jesus tells us to live with single priority.
In his book Essentialism, Greg McKeown notes that “The word priority came into the English language in the 1400s. It was singular. It meant the very first or prior thing. It stayed singular for the next five hundred years. Only in the 1900s did we pluralize the term and start talking about priorities.” In our bi-annual staff reviews, we ask staff members to state no more than 3-4 priorities for them in the upcoming quarter. I chuckle at how few are able to limit themselves to 3-4. McKeown would chuckle that we have 3-4 to begin with.
The single eye
Of course, Jesus made the point about singularity of purpose in the Sermon on the Mount, “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other” (Matt. 6:24). Richard Foster clarified, “When Jesus said that ‘no one can serve two masters,’ he did not mean that it was unwise to serve two masters, but that it was impossible” (Richard Foster, Freedom of Simplicity). And, while Jesus applied the constraint to money, “You cannot serve God and money” (Matt. 6:24), let us not be confused: the statement is true about everything. We cannot serve two masters.
In fact, Jesus also addressed singularity in his preceding comment, “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness” (Matt. 6:22-23). In the King James version, “if your eye is healthy,” is translated, “if your eye is single.” Health and singularity are connected in ancient thinking. The ancient metaphor “healthy eye” or “single eye” has layered nuance not captured by English. “It refers both to a single aim in life and to a generous, unselfish spirit. The two ideas have such a close connection in the Hebrew mind that they can be expressed in a single phrase. Singleness of purpose toward God and generosity of spirit are twins. The single eye is contrasted with the “evil eye” which, in Hebraic thought, is synonymous with selfishness, jealousy, covetousness, and envy (Daniel Doriani, The Sermon on the Mount). John Stott summarizes, “Just as our eye affects our whole body, so our ambition (where we fix our eyes and heart) affects our whole life” (John Stott, The Message of the Sermon on the Mount). In colloquial western language, Jesus says, “Examine your heart. Are you pursuing worldly and spiritual prosperity? Are you trying to have your cake and eat it too?”
Is it possible to evaluate the health of our heart by its singularity of aim?
Blind spots
Our blind spots are different from the ancients, but they are no less real. We read the stories of biblical characters taking on multiple wives and shake our heads. We know where that is going. You can’t have two healthy marriages. Even in our sexually permissive society, polyamory and polygamy have had a slow go in gaining public acceptance. There is something intuitive in us that understands the commitment of love demands a singularity of focus. But might the ancients look at us and shake their heads? Do you really think it’s wise to coach your child’s travel baseball team when you’re already a full-time accountant and serving as a Sunday School teacher? You think you can train for a marathon while raising toddlers, serving on the outreach team, and working as a part-time office manager?
I’ve recently had a couple of conversations with dads of young kids who were ruing their dad bods and poor work out habits. Should we steward the bodies we are given well? Yes, but being a good dad probably means that you’re not going to pursue peak physical health. We hate the idea of missing out, of not optimizing ourselves. We hate the thought that our priorities would be more aligned with how God made us if they became a singular priority.
Blessed with limits
In his excellent book You’re Only Human, philosopher Kelly Kapic notes that because God loves us he gave us limits. We are not intended to be machines, but are meant to have a dependent existence. To be limited—to only have so many hours and so much strength—is a gift. We, the creature, are invited to trust our Creator. Even “sleep is an act of faith” (Kelly Kapic, You’re Only Human). We think we need to keep our eye on all of the things in life we care about, but it is the Lord who watches and cares for our burdens. Because he is omnipotent and omniscient, he can have priorities. But he has given us the blessing of limits and so our gift is that we can only have priority.
As I write this, I’m battling a cold. Yesterday I decided to push through: I went to the gym, went to work, and then went to dinner at a friend’s house. Today, I’m paying for my foolishness. My body is achy and my cough is worse. I’m staying home and taking it easy. My to-do list is not getting done: there were bushes to trim, weights to lift, and groceries to buy. But perhaps today I’m living more how God purposed me: in the singular, not plural.
Tucson readers: Angel and I are speaking at a conference: “God’s Blueprint for your Marriage and Family” at Christ Community Church on Friday night, September 5 and Saturday morning, September 6. We would love to see you there.
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Photo by Adrian Swancar on Unsplash