Missed

I am reading a modern book right now (yeah I do read modern ones sometimes).  It's by Daniel Quinn, whom I've mentioned before.  He wrote Ishmael, which is one of my favorite books.  Then he further developed the ideas in the book I'm reading now called The Story of B, and others to follow.

I read Ishmael back in the 1990's and it opened my eyes to a new way of seeing and thinking.  Then later, I read the sequel, My Ishmael, which is actually third in written order.  I liked this one nearly as much as the first book.  I'd skipped B because the plot sounded questionably interesting and was only tangentially in the storyline of the other two.

I don't agree with everything Quinn says, his history is often in error, and his philosophical/logic skills are often faulty.  But I have practised being able to "eat the meat and spit out the bones" as a friend says, so that doesn't bother me if there's good to be had in it.  But then I decided to pick up B.  It's terrible.

I get the distinct sense that Ishamel may have received such a bad reaction that Quinn went a little "Moses striking the rock".  I've seen that with other storytellers that have a message, but this one is just not good.  It's too full of sour grapes and brow-beating ideas.  As he mentions in the book itself, this time he's taking a different approach.  He shouldn't have.  But as I don't do book reviews, I'm going to leave it at that, and focus on my reactions.  If you want more, read it yourself, then we can talk.

The biggest flaw in Quinn's vision, as portrayed in the book, is that it's a reaction to an entirely phantom image of Christianity.  He seems to have a certain idea of Christianity, which I've seen practised by many self-styled Christians.  But he doesn't recognize that this may or may not be a correct view, nor that there are other interpretations that are almost diametrically opposed to this view within the diversity of Christendom.

If Christianity was what he portrays it: a sort of Dan Brown-esque conspiracy laden jumble of contradictions to dupe simpletons, which any thinking-person ought to be able to see for what it is, I would hate it too.

But here's the kicker: his alternative is very much the Christianity I know and follow!  He just attempts to rebrand it as a universal animism.  Even the strict conservative Christianity I was raised in had many of the elements he seems to be seeking in his reconstructed nature-based religion.

For example, in B he propounds that every place is sacred, every living thing.  That all are interconnected and that in a real sense, they all live out their lives in the hand of the god.  He makes a distinction that he doesn't mean the all-powerful creator God, but the less distinct animus of the single place.

Well, my understanding of the Bible is exactly this, except of course that the deity is the universal Good, the all-powerful God.  Which is very much more to his point, I think.  Coming from the obvious Hippie perspective he originates in, the Universe (which he actually refers to at one point) is by definition ONE thing.  If all life is part of this big ONE thing.  Why divide that into myriad animi of place?  Wouldn't the world itself be one thing as much as all things in it are one?  If there is an animus of each of the small expressions of the one, how much more a single grand Animus in which all the others were collected, reflected, and imagined?

In fact, I know many Christians that actually do operate in a worldview of lesser spiritual beings guarding and shepherding places and activities.  The Romantics, and even CS Lewis routinely referred to these beings as part of their cosmos.

So what is to be gained by stepping so insistently outside of Christianity as Quinn tries?  A sense of place?  Heck, I know more Christians that HEAVILY venerate places, even natural ones, than those that don't.  Even to the point that I think it's silly, since obviously one place is no better than another IN ITSELF.  As Quinn agrees, ALL places are sacred.  To me this is so only because of the presence of God in them, not any aspect of the atoms, as such, in that locale.  So my prayers are no better heard in one spot over another. Like the Centurion praised for his faith that Jesus didn't have to come to his house to heal someone.

I've seen this far too often: someone gets an idea of something locked in their head, especially if it was a bad experience, and they judge all other similar things as that.  This is especially true with Christianity.  This is the very reason I'm so dogged against Christians who knowingly or unknowingly play into these stereotypes.  Because when it comes down to it, the burden of communication is on the communicator.  If someone gets the wrong message from what I say, that's my fault, not theirs.  If for no other reason than I am the one who wants them to hear me.  I can't expect people who aren't asking the question to do the work necessary to get my answer.

But back to the former side, it never pays for us to misjudge, misunderstand.  To understand, we have to listen and explore with openness.  Not to say lack of critical thought, by any means, but with openness.  It also never pays to assume one perspective or case is true for all others.

The ironic thing, is that I learned that in large part FROM Quinn!

Holy Dog

Conscience is the Holy Dog, sent to bite us on the back of the neck that we will fall to the ground before we fall off the cliff.  I am not the Holy Dog, but I know his teeth well.  I am a voice.  A voice for the voiceless.  And my voice is strong.  So on this I will speak and pray the Dog finds his mark.

As we approach the most important day in the Christian calendar, I am confronted by you every year.  You say you love me.  You say you are a safe place to be who I am.  You encourage me to open my deep pain to you and promise that if I only will, I will find what you have and we will be closer.

But I don't know what you have.  I only know what I have, good and bad.  So I look at you, knowing you can be good and bad as well.  I know that you lie.  I see that no one can be what you claim.  I even know more of what you supposedly know than you can imagine and by your actions you confirm to me that you do not know it well, if at all.

You, church, are a sham, a show, a club created to draw me in with promises that touch a sore place only to leave me hollow, more wounded, and drained.  You are a scam.

You love me?  You don't even know me.  If you do, then why do you constantly tell me I am wrong?

We are all wrong sometimes?  Then why do you never admit it?  No I mean candidly, honestly admit it.  When I gave my vacation money that you promised to use to win the City and only used it to renovate your own building, which you have subsequently re-renovated. Did you give it back?  Did you make amends?  Did you admit you were wrong? I never heard another word about it.

When you said you saw something in me and asked me to help because I had a gift, then left me off the schedule and replaced me without a word, was that love, or flattery to fill the gap in your volunteers? I never heard another word about it.

When you built the giant community building that has less people there than before you built it...you know the one.  It's just like the 25 others at 25 other churches across the area that stand less than half full, and certainly none have fulfilled their promise to win the City.  Were you wrong, or mistaken?  When you were offered warning that this would happen and refused to heed it, calling me obstructionist and quencher, were you justified?  I never heard another word about it.

When you openly accused me of error for not giving to your church when in fact I give to another, plus several charities that you knew nothing about, did you restore my honor before others?

When you said you had a message from God for me that turned out to be entirely wrong, were you malicious or mistaken?  I heard nothing about it after that.

When you said it was a safe place then gave me a look of dire shock and quickly changed the subject as soon as I mentioned my pain, did you provide aid?

When you asked me to join your dinner even though I told you I didn't share your beliefs, assuring me it was just friendly dinner, then started a seminar on evangelism, even asking me for money, then yelled at me for asking why you tried to trick me, did you seek restitution before continuing your ministry?

When you put on a brave face to go on with your service, even though you are not at all in a good place. When you faked emotion on the stage and then collapsed in a huff backstage until the next song.  When you told me I can question, can come as I am, that God will reveal, and yet deny me access to your circle unless I sign your covenants.  When you subtly enforce the appearance before I've understood the meaning...

For all these things I call you wrong.  I call you in error.  I call you out.

Doubtless you will say I am ungracious, but in fact, I am far more gracious than you.  I know I have problems and I know you do too.  Even still I want to be your friend.  But when I hurt a friend, I attempt to make it right, not to make excuses.  I don't give sermons on how I am imperfect too and need your forgiveness...I apologize directly for what I've done.  I try to do better.  I take steps to make it right.  You on the other hand, seem more about making enemies than friends.

This is what I say for the voiceless. 

Who are they?  You'll see them Sunday.  They look like they're trying to fit in, but can't.  They look like they don't quite know how you do things?  They have a darkness behind their smile.  Some look like you and some look nothing like you.  But most of them, you'll only see once.  Others, will give you a few more chances.  And many of them have a deeper and truer understanding of the good God that you claim to represent.  Whitewashed tombs!

I am the voice for the voiceless.  The face for the faceless.  I will also be there Sunday.  I look different from you, so that every time you look at me, you are reminded of them.  You'll see that I've heard it before and I'm not buying it.  You'll see the sadness in my eyes for you and the tenderness in my eyes for them.  And then I'll walk away without a word and go hang out with them. And where we are, there will be Church.  Where a genuine affection is shared, there will be Church.  Where a fault is known and born for sake of the other, there will be Church.  Where they bear with differing opinions for sake of friendship, where one friend supports another, where both try to outdo each other in generosity, where no one shies from the pain of others because they know how bad it hurts...THERE will be CHURCH!  Whether you're there or not.

Overflowing

I have been pretty silent here lately.  On the internet in general.  I have seasons here as in everything else.  But I have not stopped contemplating.  Most recently, I had this rolling through my head:

My heart is overflowing with a good theme

     I recite my composition, concerning the King.

My tongue is like the pen of a ready writer.

It's from Psalm 45, but was used in a song by Dominic Balli, and his particular rhythm to it is what I keep singing.  It's called Warrior and is essentially a series of quotes form the Bible about God as a strong force for justice and rescue.  

The video for this song is also one of the best I've ever seen.  The kind that conveys a whole story in the 3 or so minutes of the song.  It's visual poetry.  The video interprets the song into three stories of troubled people needing rescue, a bulimic, a cutter, and an alcoholic.  As the song rises in intensity, the stories reach a climax.  Then the song returns to its original contemplative mood and pans over in the last second to show the three restored people next to the singer.  a perfect resolution to a song and video with so much going on.

As someone who knows first-hand the feelings that lead to these actions, this is especially powerful.  I was a cutter.

SIDEBAR: Like many things, this label can be applied by one on the inside, but not by one on the outside.  To call someone a cutter is to brand them (no pun intended) with a syndrome that further accentuates the underlying issues for the person.  If you aren't one, don't call someone else one.  We're just people with a bad habit and a deep pain.  Same goes for any similar issue.  We don't go around calling people Allergics or Fatties, so be cognizant.  No one wants to be branded with their worst trait, especially if it can't be helped.  And this can't be helped.  If you don't get that, just stop reading now because there is nothing in this post for you but what will make you stumble.

Because of my particular constitution (in the old sense, i.e. my make-up) images of God in this aspect resonate very deeply.  I know more than most my inability and my need.  I know what it is to have a real redemptive, restorative experience.  To really become aware of this universe-wide power beyond comprehension makes me fear in the Sartre sense.  It is too big, too uncontrolled, too unstoppable.  But then to experience this power bend low and flood over me an equally big unconditional love is truly changing...as Isaiah says, it "undoes" me.

The reaction to that is such a deep overflowing love for anyone or anything I see in the same state I was.  I need only a glimpse and the dam of my heart breaks open.  Unfortunately, I can't often let out what is there.  I haven't learned how to let it pour out in a good way.  I know some understand what I mean and even have recognized it in me.  I think we share a mutual overflowing toward each other.

My dream is for a safe place for people like me, like us, to be who we are.  To be able to freely and goodly express what we feel to mutual restoration and benefit.  God show me the way to do this.  And until then, at least, may my sphere of influence be known as this kind.