I recently finished John Ortberg’s “Everybody’s Normal Till You Get to Know Them,” which I had already referred to in my brief review of Ortberg’s equally phrasally titled “If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat.”  The link on the “Normal” title takes you to Sursumcorda’s review, which mentions the aspects of the book I dislike (and which seem to be endemic to Ortberg’s writing).  The one habit of his I most regret is his propensity to interrupt serious material with a cheap laugh, which instantly undercuts his argument.  In many cases I end up remembering the dumb joke and not his point.

Nevertheless, in what follows I will try to summarize and comment what stood out to me in Ortberg’s book, passing over the distracting asides and loose writing which plague the book.

The first important point to make is what Ortberg means with “normal.”  He never defines it, but from what he says it is clear “normal” for him is the state humans were created for, i.e. the sinless state before the Fall.  This took me by surprise, because I think that sin is normal for the human condition on this earth, but Ortberg is right in saying that in meeting a person we tend to expect sinlessness, not depravity.  So for the duration of the review, I’ll use Ortberg’s definition.  That said, Ortberg seems to implicitly agree that sin is normal (i.e. usual) when he says about our approach to others: “We enter an endless attempt to fix them, control them, or pretend that they are what they’re not.”  To a degree, I think this pretense is healthy and what is necessary to give the other the benefit of the doubt.  But if we don’t keep in mind that the beneficiary of our doubt may not deserve it, when the pieces all come together and we realize that the explanations for poor behavior were just illusions we will not only have to deal with a person who behaves poorly but with our own selfish indignation at how we gave the benefit of the doubt for naught.

Ortberg quotes Dallas Willard as saying that assault and withdrawal are the two essential forms of relational sin.  “We assault others when we act against what is good for them.  (…)  We withdraw from someone when we regard their well-being as a matter of indifference to us.”  If that is true, relationships require wise and perceptive judgment and a great ability to imagine the other’s situation.  I have to judge what is good for a given person, even if it’s the opposite of what they demand, and act on my judgment.  I have to judge, due to my own limitations (because caring requires work and time), with whom to engage, so as not to serially withdraw from people.  And, given my own limitations, I have to be quick to call my judgment into question and revise it.

Further on, Ortberg says: “In community – the divine community especially – a heart comes alive.  To experience community is to know the joy of belonging, the delight at being known and loved, the opportunity for giving and growing, the safety of finding a true home.”  It requires the courage to be vulnerable and the courage to be gentle with a vulnerable person.  Refusing to be vulnerable or abusing vulnerability raises barriers and creates disunity.  According to Ortberg, “[t]o allow or contribute to disunity in [the body of Christ] is to be fundamentally at odds with the purpose of God in human history.”  (That does raise the question of whether the concern for unity can trump doctrinal or pastoral concerns.  I have my doubts, but certainly unity is at the core of what the body of Christ ought to be.)

Ortberg quotes Alan McGinnis’s #1 rule for entering into deep friendships: “Assign top priority to your relationships.”  That’s a good reminder, because at least for me many other things vie for top spot and have a way of sneaking into priorities they don’t deserve.  Computer vs. Joseph should always be a no-brainer, no matter what I’m doing on the computer.  But it isn’t.

Another good reminder: “If you want a deep friendship, you can’t always be the strong one.  You will sometimes have to let somebody else [do for you what you can’t do on your own.]”  I think that’s particularly tough for guys.  We’re often raised to be strong, to be the leaders, the heads of households who decide with firmness and have things under control.  We need to shed some of that baggage and both realize and live as though we can’t do everything on our own.  It’s why we believe in Jesus as our Lord and Savior.  It’s why we married a wife with qualities we admire.

Ortberg tells a story of a pastor who struggled on his own with a tough problem, until he realized he needed help.  But even then he was far more comfortable helping the others in his group, and took a long time to come out and share his own struggles and failures.  Contrary to his expectation, the others didn’t show condemnation, but compassion.  In other words, I can’t taste grace without admitting my sin.

A statement that should inform the wise and perceptive judgment I mentioned above: “Just as love is the ultimate expression of the law, so lovelessness is the ultimate expression of sin.”  Our judgments about relationships and others need to be suffused with love.

Because I made it to the end of Part I of the book in this summary, I’ll publish the post now and promise parts II and III in later posts.