Early in my legal career, I was helping one of our firm’s senior partners with a jury trial in federal court. One of the hardest things for me to do as a trial lawyer, especially then in my youthful exuberance, is to sit as second chair to the lead trial counsel. In that role, my job, at least during the parts of the trial that would take place in front of the jury, was primarily to provide support for my boss. I was to be aware of everything that was going on and to anticipate, recognize, and be fully prepared to address legal issues that could arise in a moment’s notice.
When the stern federal judge entered the court room to the bailiff’s cry, “All rise!” and court was called into session, I was eager and nervous, ready to enter the fray after months of preparation.
The judge said, “Be seated,” and then looked to us at our table and asked “Counsel, are you ready to proceed?”
I leaped back to my feet even as my boss was standing up and exclaimed “Yes, your Honor!” Somewhat diplomatically, but in no uncertain terms, my boss turned to me, cleared his throat and said, “I’ve got this.” With those three words, I was put in place, reminded that my role at trial would be to serve him as the lead lawyer and he did not need me to speak to the judge on behalf of our side. It was a humbling lesson that continues to surface in my life, but sometimes in different and unexpected ways.
I was more recently playing in a local club golf tournament involving two-man teams. Our opponents were left with an 8-10 foot putt to win the hole and match, and as the player who would be putting looked over the putt, his partner began giving advice as to how to play it. That sort of teamwork is common and often helpful and had taken place throughout the match. In this instance, however, the advice was cut off with those same three words, “I’ve got this,” leaving the next moments tense and pregnant with awkward silence.
When we communicate verbally or by our actions “I’ve got this,” we are claiming a self-sufficiency that may or may not be warranted in a particular circumstance. We may be so certain, trained, or skilled in a particular task that the input of another is actually of no value to us and perhaps even distracting so as to take us off our games. If I am honest, however, this attitude reflects in me, more often than not, an arrogance proclaiming that I do not want or need another’s help, even when sober thought would recognize that such help could be truly beneficial.
In a spiritual sense, with respect to the God who possesses the attributes described in the Bible, it is worthwhile to consider whether we can ever be truly self-sufficient, or is recognition of our need for God necessarily entailed in being what Jesus referred to as “poor in spirit” (Matthew 5:3)? Is professing one’s dependence inherent in honoring God as God (Romans 1:21)? In other words, if God made us, can we ever legitimately say “I’ve got this?”
A lawyer is reported to have asked Jesus what is the most important command in the law of God, and Jesus replied, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment” (Matthew 22:36-38). In another report on this or a similar encounter, he adds the term “strength” (Mark 12:28-30), essentially encompassing with his answer the Shema which was familiar to the Jewish audience.
All of these—heart, soul, mind, and strength—describe essential and inherent aspects of what it means to be alive and human, and there is no humanity without them. They are not listed separately in order to suggest that there are distinct compartments of our human condition that we can open or shut as we wish, loving God with one and not the others. With his answer, Jesus echoes Moses before him and illustrates the breadth of our human experience so as to remind us that a person who truly loves God is fully involved. I am to love God with all of my being and with everything I've got. Moreover, Jesus’ teaching that this is the “first and greatest commandment” means that such all-encompassing love for God is to be above and before all else. It must be the fundamental priority of my life.
That may sound good, but what does it look like? The command to love God in this way could seem to present a sanitized, sanctimonious approach to life that is unrealistic and unattainable. To be sure, religious people in Jesus’ time and through the ages have presented it like that, often as a tool to control other people’s lives by inflicting upon them a heavy burden or “yoke” of detailed and oppressive behavior standards. But this is not the picture of loving God that is given in the scriptures.