Finding the No-Complaint Department

A guy in my morning exercise class, whenever he’s asked, “How are you?” often responds, “Can’t complain. No one wants to hear it anyway.” He’s right, of course. We don’t want to hear other people’s complaints. We have enough of our own.

Take the weather, for example: Too hot. Too cold. Too wet. Too dry. Or the government: Too big, too involved, or too controlling. Except when we want highway potholes fixed, relief following disasters, or various services provided when we need them. Then we can’t get enough government.

We complain when our favorite teams and players under-perform. We complain when spouses, family members and friends fail to meet our expectations. We complain when we go shopping: Unable to find a sales associate when we need one. Or feeling harassed when a sales associate hovers nearby. (Admittedly a rare occurrence these days.)

We complain about aches and pains, major and minor. Especially as we get older. It’s almost a contest: “Any complaint you can make, I can make better!”

Even at church we complain: The music’s too fast, too slow, too loud, too contemporary, too old. The sermon wasn’t entertaining enough. Not enough multi-media to hold our attention. The service ran too long, disrupting our mealtime plans. And when we do go out to dinner, we complain about the food and the service.

So it surprised me recently when I spotted a sign in an antique store that read:

“Too blessed to complain.”

Even at its best, this life leaves us discontented,
feeling like there should be more.

When was the last time you felt that way? Have you ever felt that way? In our society, discontent is viewed as a virtue. Marketing people make it their solemn duty to keep us dissatisfied with what we have and where we go. According to them, nothing can be worse than status quo. So it seems unnatural to feel “too blessed to complain,” doesn’t it?

To the contrary, the motto of our materialistic world is, “too much is never enough.” No matter how much we’ve got, we can always complain about wanting or needing more.

This is one reason I’ve marveled at the apostle Paul’s declaration: “for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want” (Philippians 3:11-12).

This is a striking statement, particularly when you consider where he was writing from – prison. No “woe is me”; no “life isn’t fair”; no “why me and not so-and so?” How could Paul avoid grumbling and complaining in confinement? How could he claim to be “content” in jail?

The secret, I believe, was his perspective. Paul remembered what life was like before encountering Jesus Christ, and knew his life with Christ was far better. Even though “before” he had been somewhat of a religious celebrity, and “after” he was treated as a pariah by the religious establishment. Paul recalled during his self-righteous, zealous persecution of those that followed Jesus, his victims demonstrated an inner peace he’d never known – until he, too, met Jesus.

Paul understood by refusing to complain, followers of Christ set themselves apart from people around them. That’s why he wrote, “Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation” (Philippians 2:14-15).

And Paul knew that no matter how bad his life on earth got, another life – a far better life beyond comprehension or imagination – awaited him. So, most likely the apostle often thought, even if he might not have used the exact words, he was “too blessed to complain.”

I’d like to be able to say that – and mean it. How about you?

Judging . . . and Changing

A recent CBS News poll revealed 80 percent of Americans are unhappy with the Federal government, with 50 percent of respondents classified as “dissatisfied,” and another 30 percent termed “angry.” A Gallup Poll had similar results, reporting nearly 70 percent of people surveyed stated they are either “dissatisfied” or “very dissatisfied.”

If we’re among those sharing similar discontent with the United States’ direction and how it’s being run, what can we do about it? We can complain to our friends. After all, most people like preaching to the choir. We can grumble on Facebook, Twitter or email, including sharing articles and posts that affirm our opinions. We can write letters to the editor. We can anticipate the next election with every intention of “voting the rascals out.”

How can we, as individuals, bring about
meaningful, lasting change in our world?

There’s nothing wrong with any of those, but at best our individual impact in those ways is very limited. We can feel fairly helpless to bring about change. There’s another way, however.

An oft-quoted verse from the Bible – by both believers and nonbelievers – is Jesus’ statement in Matthew 7:1, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.” He made this declaration during His "Sermon on the Mount."

A common interpretation of this passage is we have no right to judge anyone else – values, behavior, or lifestyle. But if you read the rest of what Jesus said, that’s not what He meant.

Jesus proceeded to state, “For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?... You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye” (Matthew 7:2-5).

Talk about not mincing words! As I understand it, Jesus was chastising His listeners for being quick to find fault with others while ignoring their own failings – sometimes similar to shortcomings they saw in other people. When we point to someone else, three fingers point back at us.

So what does this have to do with changing society? A lot.

Recently I read a brief commentary, "I Wanted To Change The World," written by an unknown monk around 1100 A.D. His sentiments seem timeless, worthy our consideration:

“When I was a young man, I wanted to change the world.

I found it was difficult to change the world, so I tried to change my nation.

When I found I couldn't change the nation, I began to focus on my town. I couldn't change the town and as an older man, I tried to change my family.

Now, as an old man, I realize the only thing I can change is myself, and suddenly I realize that if long ago I had changed myself, I could have made an impact on my family. My family and I could have made an impact on our town. Their impact could have changed the nation and I could indeed have changed the world.”

Change, recalling Jesus’ earlier statement, must start with ourselves. As much as we wish we could, we can’t change people – even loved ones. As for bringing about change in our communities, our country, the world? We can do our part, of course. But the only definitive, enduring change we each have direct control over is oneself.

So while we're wringing our hands over the state of the world, nation, community, and people around us, we can begin making real change – in ourselves. No telling how far those changes can reach.