God Running is a place for anyone who wants to love Jesus more deeply, follow Jesus more closely, and love people the way Jesus wants us to.
So in our series, Following Christ for Exhausted People, we’ve been going through St. Thérèse of Lisieux’s book, The Little Way. But lately I’ve been feeling like I’m just a little thin in what I know about Thérèse of Lisieux. So I recently started listening to the audiobook, The Story of a Soul on Audible. The content in this audiobook comes from St. Thérèse’s diary. Yesterday, I came across this account and I found it helpful in my search for ways to follow Jesus closely, even when I’m exhausted.
It was the month of May, 1878. My sisters decided that I was too small to go to the May devotions every evening, so I stayed at home with the nurse and said my prayers with her before the little altar which I had arranged according to my own taste. Everything was small—candlesticks, vases, and the rest; two wax vestas were quite sufficient to light it up properly. Sometimes Victoire, the maid, gave me some little bits of real candle, but not often. One evening, when we went to our prayers, I said to her: “Will you begin the Memorare? I am going to light the candles.” She tried to begin, and then looked at me and burst out laughing. Seeing my precious vestas burning quickly away, I begged her once more to say the Memorare. Again there was silence, broken only by bursts of laughter. All my natural good temper deserted me. I got up feeling dreadfully angry, and, stamping my foot furiously, I cried out: “Victoire, you naughty girl!” She stopped laughing at once, and looked at me in utter astonishment, then showed me—too late—the surprise she had in store hidden under her apron—two pieces of candle. My tears of anger were soon changed into tears of sorrow; I was very much ashamed and grieved, and made a firm resolution never to act in such a way again.
When I read that story, two things stood out for me.
The first is how little we can know about what’s happening inside the mind and heart of another, and how easy it is to enter into negative sentiment override. That’s what happened to little Thérèse when she saw Victoire laughing. The reality for us mere humans is that there is so very little we can truly know about what someone else is thinking. There’s also a second something I noticed and we’ll get to that toward the end of this article, but first I want to talk about our humble human limitations when it comes to knowing things.
The Problem of Not Knowing
Before Thérèse shared that story, she wrote that the telling of it was a good opportunity to humble herself. I see in that statement how she’s referring to humility as the opposite of pride. And absolutely that’s important. Pride is at the root of so many sins. And we know humility pleases God. But also, I think her story speaks to our humble human limitations concerning what we can really know. Thinking we know what we really don’t know, particularly about what someone else is thinking, is so often at the root of relationship problems.
In Acts chapter 9 we learn something about our human limitations.
Now there was a disciple at Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” And he said, “Here I am, Lord.” And the Lord said to him, “Rise and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul, for behold, he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.” But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints at Jerusalem. And here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who call on your name.” But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel. For I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” So Ananias departed and entered the house. And laying his hands on him he said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus who appeared to you on the road by which you came has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and he regained his sight. Then he rose and was baptized; and taking food, he was strengthened. Acts 9:10-19
When I read that passage I was struck by what Ananias didn’t know. We sometimes think we know things. And sometimes, the things we think we know cause us to rev up our righteous anger.
We Think We Know Things About the Accused
One time, my grandson Andrew and I watched the movie Stand and Deliver. It’s an excellent movie (based on a true story) about Jaime Escalante, a teacher who goes to work in a Los Angeles high school where the students are mainly poor Hispanic kids. He decides to teach them calculus as a means to help them escape the cycle of poverty. When the kids in his class all pass the AP Calculus exam they’re accused of cheating.
So there’s this one line in the movie where Escalante asks a school administrator if she thinks the kids cheated. She says, “You know, when I learn about someone who’s accused of committing a crime, I think, most of the time: they did it. Don’t you?” She wasn’t alone in her assessment. There were others who were sure those kids cheated. They were sure they knew things.
But as you probably guessed, the poor Mexican kids didn’t cheat. It was their investment of hard work and time that caused them to pass that test.
Ananias Thought He Knew Things
In the passage from the book of Acts quoted above, the Lord said to Ananias, “Rise and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul . . .” But Ananias had heard things. Pretty awful things at that. And he hadn’t just heard things from one person, but from many. And he tells God about what he’s heard because he’s afraid of Saul. Ananias is protesting against what God is telling Ananias to do.
Because Ananias thinks he knows things.
The Only One Who Really Knows
So here’s the thing: In all these instances, there’s only one Person who really knows anything, and that Person is God. Thérèse thought Victoire was laughing at her in an uncharitable way, but God knew she was full of joy because of the gift she intended to give Thérèse. Everybody thought they knew the Mexican kids cheated, but God knew they performed with integrity. The situation with Ananias is interesting because before he encountered Christ, Saul of Tarsus was sure the followers of the Way were ignorant, misinformed heretics and blasphemers, and Ananias thought he knew Saul was dangerous. But they were both wrong. God knew His own Son was the Way, the Truth, and the Life. And God knew Saul was already far along in the process of being transformed from an enemy of Jesus into one of the greatest advocates for Jesus Christ in history. God knew Saul was anything but dangerous. God knew Saul was being transformed into Paul the Apostle.
The One Thing We Have in Common with Ananias
Imagine with me you’re Ananias. And God tells you to go to a house where Saul is waiting for you. Saul, the one who was breathing murderous threats against Jesus’ followers. Saul, the one who voted for Stephen and other believers to be put to death. Saul, who made it his life’s mission to hunt down Christians. A self-declared enemy of Christians. If ever there was a time when righteous anger was justified, it was in that moment, when Ananias considered all the evil Saul had done.
But Ananias was wrong about Saul.
He didn’t know what God was doing in Saul’s heart and mind and soul.
And I’m the same—no—I’m certainly less than Ananias. In verse 10, Ananias is identified as a disciple of Jesus. I really feel like I’m someone who’s trying to become a disciple of Jesus. When God called his name, Ananias said, “Here I am, Lord.” When God calls my name I think I sometimes find ways to run and hide. So I’m definitely far less of a man than Ananias. But the way Ananias was enlightened by God about Saul makes me realize the one thing I have in common with Ananias is how little I know about others.
I might think I know what others are thinking. I might feel like I’m sure I know what they’re going to do. I might feel positive I know what’s in their heart, based on what I’ve heard about them or have even seen them do in similar circumstances with my own eyes. But the truth is, I don’t. Like Ananias, I don’t know what God is doing in the heart and mind and soul of others.
The truth is that only God knows what God is doing in the heart and mind and soul of others.
So we know we can’t know what God knows. As I was thinking about this passage in Acts 9, I realized that if Ananias didn’t know what was inside of a person like Saul of Tarsus, there’s no way you and I can know what’s inside of anyone.
And because there’s no way you and I can know what God is doing inside of anyone, and because only God can know:
When you and I make assumptions about what someone is thinking or feeling, we’re putting ourselves in the place of God. That breaks the first commandment: “I am the Lord your God,” which has a very clearly implied “And you’re not.”
There’s also a well-known phrase from The Odd Couple about what else happens when you assume; I won’t repeat it here, but it’s worth looking up.
The Second Thing: It’s Exhausting
The second thing that jumped out at me about the way St. Thérèse responded to Victoire is that maintaining a negative sentiment override mindset is exhausting! A tremendous amount of emotional energy is expended when we see the behavior of the people around us as nefarious. Because when we see the people around us through that lens, we respond the way Thérèse did, with strong negative emotions. Looking at others that way and becoming emotionally flooded is hard on our bodies, and on our hearts and our minds and our souls.
This is a series about how to follow Jesus for exhausted people. We have to be very intentional about it, but when we’re generous toward others, when we shift to a default of assuming good intentions, we’re doing ourselves a big favor. Because positive sentiment override – assuming the other person has your good in mind as the default setting of your interactions with each other – sets us free. It sets us free from the hard labor of negative sentiment override, which assumes the opposite and keeps us on high alert.
A Firm Resolution to Follow the Better Way
In St. Thérèse’s diary we learn she didn’t realize Victoire was laughing because she had a surprise gift for Thérèse. But I love the way she responded to her mistake.
I think one of the reasons Thérèse was ultimately recognized as a Saint is because of what she wrote at the end of that passage: “I was very much ashamed and grieved, and made a firm resolution never to act in such a way again.”
From what I know about her, throughout her short adult life, Thérèse was an extraordinarily charitable human being.
I pray you and I can do the same.
“Lord, set us free from assuming bad motives in others. Help us to be generous toward the people around us. Help us to live in positive sentiment override. Like Thérèse, help us to make a firm resolution to assume good intentions in the people around us.
“In Jesus’ name,
“Amen.”
Notes
Thérèse of Lisieux, The Story of a Soul, narrated by Benjamin Crow, Audible, December 27, 2023
Thérèse of Lisieux, The Little Way: Reflections on the Joy of Smallness in God’s Infinite Love, Whitaker House, April 4, 2023
Kurt Bennett, Love Like Jesus: How Jesus Loved People (and how you can love like Jesus), Enoch Media, January 30, 2020
Image of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, Józef Mehoffer, Józef Mehoffer – Święta Teresa z Lisieux, CC BY-SA 4.0
The Love Like Jesus Book
Available on Google Play Books and on Amazon!
Love Like Jesus: How Jesus Loved People (and how you can love like Jesus)
Love Like Jesus begins with the story of how after a life of regular church attendance and Bible study, Bennett was challenged by a pastor to study Jesus. That led to an obsessive seven year deep dive. After pouring over Jesus’ every interaction with another human being, he realized he was doing a much better job of studying Jesus’ words than he was following Jesus’ words and example. The honest and fearless revelations of Bennett’s own moral failures affirm he wrote this book for himself as much as for others. Love Like Jesus examines a variety of stories, examples, and research, including:
- Specific examples of how Jesus communicated God’s love to others.
- How Jesus demonstrated all five of Gary Chapman’s love languages (and how you can too).
- The story of how Billy Graham extended Christ’s extraordinary love and grace toward a man who misrepresented Jesus to millions.
- How to respond to critics the way Jesus did.
- How to love unlovable people the way Jesus did.
- How to survive a life of loving like Jesus (or how not to become a Christian doormat).
- How Jesus didn’t love everyone the same (and why you shouldn’t either).
- How Jesus guarded his heart by taking care of himself–he even napped–and why you should do the same.
- How Jesus loved his betrayer Judas, even to the very end.
With genuine unfiltered honesty, Love Like Jesus, shows you how to live a life according to God’s definition of success: A life of loving God well, and loving the people around you well too.
A life of loving like Jesus. (Kindle, hardcover, and paperback now available on Amazon and Google Play Books.)
We also recently released the audiobook version, beautifully narrated by Jonathan St. John. It’s available on the following platforms:
It’s also available on Amazon, Hoopla, Audiobooksnow, Chirp, Libro, Overdrive, and virtually everywhere audiobooks are offered.
