Recently, I've been dealing with some serious decisions. I'm not going into them specifically. It's more about how I'm making them and facing them.
It is stretching me in some ways I hadn't noticed needed stretching. That's when the story of Jesus and the Rich Young Ruler came to mind. I realized this is my story right now. I'm that guy.
The story is that a wealthy young man came up to Jesus and, calling him Teacher, asks what he has to do to receive eternal life. Jesus says, "You know the commandments." To which the man replies, "I've done all that since I was a kid." Obviously not convinced this would do it for him. Jesus looks on him with affection at this and says, "You still lack one thing (one version says, "if you would be perfect"): sell everything you own and give to the poor, so you'll have treasure in heaven, then take up your cross and follow me." The man goes away sad at this because it says he had great wealth.
A couple things jump out to me. One, the guy really wants to know. He came to find Jesus and he knows keeping the rules is good, but he needs more. Jesus realizes this and loves the guy for it. Jesus isn't being dismissive or argumentative. So I think he tells him what he really needs to do. But the guy is obviously struggling with how to do it.
Here's the thing. I'm being faced with this exact choice. While I'm certainly not rich by American standards, I am above the median in my area and worldwide, that's in the untouchable category. I lack nothing material. I can afford anything I want within stretch of reason. I'm far better off than many people around me. But I'm faced with an opportunity that will require me to sell everything I own and leave this life.
So I know what this guy was feeling. I have everything we're taught to strive for. Everything we're told is a blessing. I have a great stable job, in my field, with lots of freedom and good benefits. I have no debt and my kid's college is totally paid for. I could sit back and save up, travel, do good with my money, and retire comfortably into a life where I could do the good work I want to do fulltime...of course none of this is certain, but barring unforeseen changes, it'll happen. But here I have this choice foisted in my lap. I have asked Jesus to make me like him. To perfect me. And here I have the same dang choice. Family is on board, advisors are on board, friends are on board. I'm just reluctant to give up this stuff, the security of material things and familiar ways. What if I'm wrong? What if this or that happens? But at the root, I know what I'm worried about.
You see, I'm this guy! Jesus has just said, "You can stay, you know the commandments, you have lived it; do that." But I'm still not satisfied and I asked the question, half afraid of the answer...and I got the blasted answer. If I want to be perfect, I have to sell all my possessions (or give them away) and step into this life which is no slouchy opportunity and quite an honor at my age, but potentially much less materially lucrative and less stable. I've counted the cost. It's not totally unknown to me. But what if...what will I be capable of? what kind of life will open up to me? Maybe the life of adventure and discovery I've dreamed of. Maybe a life of peace and goodness I never thought actually possible. Maybe a disaster that burns away all my dross and refines me into polished folded steel, a true Glass Dog. I'll never know if I don't go.
So here's the thing. The story ends there. We don't know what the guy did. But if he is me, I can imagine he thought about it just like I am. We are of one mind here in some mystical way, I'm sure. I know I'm loved, that's why Jesus offered me this opportunity. It is building that one thing I lack in me. How much do I want it? Will I sell everything to buy the pearl of great price, to mix in another story? When I see it like this, this strange feeling overcomes me and from deep inside my soul jumps up and yells, "Here I am, SEND ME!" Yes! I want to go! I want to do it. I am a follower of Jesus, not in name only, but in heart and action. I have to. What else can I do? I asked to get out of the boat and deuce if he didn't say, "Come." And I'm standing here like, "Well that wasn't what I expected." And he's saying, "Did you think I wasn't serious? Did you think I wasn't real? You don't have to. Take the blue pill and all is well, I won't even mention it. But if you want to be perfect..."
Good God, I'm coming! Don't let me fall! I'm about to walk on water.
Showing posts with label real. Show all posts
Showing posts with label real. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 11, 2018
Wednesday, April 12, 2017
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.
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.
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Is this new?
After my recent cycle into darkness, I am starting to feel better. Not 100%, but better. I'm still working out some things about causes, triggers, etc. No major metanoia either though.
But I did have one realization as the light started to dawn in my world again. I've been faking things pretty darn well. I actually do it a lot. It probably started as a survival mechanism somewhere. But I remember coming to a point years ago where I had to let things out. It helped me stay out of the dark. But I developed a reputation for being really angry. I kept my head pretty well, but I would verbally rail about things that upset me and there were lots of them.
Overtime, I had thought I'd gotten rid of that. Calmed down. But recently I've found that same part of me still there, still as angry. It hadn't come back. It just never left. I guess I'd been repressing it.
Actually, I hate being angry. It's really just a sort of snarling out of fear and frustration. See, it all comes back to cages. I hate being pent up. I don't know why. I'm not claustrophobic or anything, it's more an internal sort of thing. When I'm being boxed in, given a situation where there's no way out, I start to get like any intelligent animal in a cage gets. They either get mean, go crazy, or give up. And mean is the most conducive to survival. Crazy just means they've won, and giving up feels worse than anything. That's where the demons are. So anger it is.
But anyway, my point is that I had become pretty good at faking the right attitude. Even in my spiritual life, I know what a mature Christian should exhibit, and I can put that on. I can also pull off just the right mix of humility and power to make people think I'm pretty darn holy. I even learned to mix in a good deal of truth with it such that I flat out tell people I'm bad, but do it in a way that they don't believe me. I'm serious about this. I know how to pause, tone my voice, phrase my words and make what I want to say seem wise or mysterious or even beyond my years. I even fooled myself into believing it. Seriously. That's what I've just learned. I haven't really grown much at all.
Now in some ways I have, sure. I could go into those but that would make this over-long. But in this deep root area, I have not changed much at all. The fruits of the spirit are just not there. I know how to make them look like they're there, but that's not the same thing. It's not. What's real is the natural outpouring of the heart when we're not trying.
What's been coming out of me lately means I'm either possessed or have just opened up a dark corner of my internal house and found it has been rotting in there for a long time. I don't want to go into what made me realize this, but suffice to say you'll probably imagine it worse than it was outwardly, but if I told you, you'd imagine it far less than it was inwardly. So I won't say.
But this made me think of how that could happen. How could I pursue virtue and good character and not find even a little of it? I think it's because I'm pursuing the wrong thing. You see, any time we Christians lay an expectation on another, we force them, be it insidiously slight or brashly overt, to ACT like we tell them they should. It's all about the DIY. Fruits are love, joy, peace, patience... So I'll just be more loving, joyful, peaceful, patient. I won't be perfect, but heck, we're all sinners saved by grace, right? It's the try that counts and the more we try, the more we actually become. Fake it till you make it!
This is wrong. God wants us not to love him from obligation or expectation. He wants us to genuinely love him. He'd rather us reject him than pretend. This is the only explanation that makes sense. So if I'm doing something good that my heart's not into, I might as well not do it. Better to be bad and honest than good and a liar because the first leads to real life, while the other leads to white-washed tombs.
So this part isn't new. I've blogged about it before. But what is new is the realization that I am one of the tombs. If it took a trip to hell to open my eyes to that, then I thank God for it. I've got to quit this, but I can't. So I have to re-learn it all from this perspective. He does the work. I just grow however he grows me; I can't, sow, hoe, water, and prune myself.
So if you think I've fallen off the deep end, you were just one of those I duped. Please don't try to draw me back in. It's hard to stay honest in this. And I'm faking it enough already in writing this so cleanly.
But I did have one realization as the light started to dawn in my world again. I've been faking things pretty darn well. I actually do it a lot. It probably started as a survival mechanism somewhere. But I remember coming to a point years ago where I had to let things out. It helped me stay out of the dark. But I developed a reputation for being really angry. I kept my head pretty well, but I would verbally rail about things that upset me and there were lots of them.
Overtime, I had thought I'd gotten rid of that. Calmed down. But recently I've found that same part of me still there, still as angry. It hadn't come back. It just never left. I guess I'd been repressing it.
Actually, I hate being angry. It's really just a sort of snarling out of fear and frustration. See, it all comes back to cages. I hate being pent up. I don't know why. I'm not claustrophobic or anything, it's more an internal sort of thing. When I'm being boxed in, given a situation where there's no way out, I start to get like any intelligent animal in a cage gets. They either get mean, go crazy, or give up. And mean is the most conducive to survival. Crazy just means they've won, and giving up feels worse than anything. That's where the demons are. So anger it is.
But anyway, my point is that I had become pretty good at faking the right attitude. Even in my spiritual life, I know what a mature Christian should exhibit, and I can put that on. I can also pull off just the right mix of humility and power to make people think I'm pretty darn holy. I even learned to mix in a good deal of truth with it such that I flat out tell people I'm bad, but do it in a way that they don't believe me. I'm serious about this. I know how to pause, tone my voice, phrase my words and make what I want to say seem wise or mysterious or even beyond my years. I even fooled myself into believing it. Seriously. That's what I've just learned. I haven't really grown much at all.
Now in some ways I have, sure. I could go into those but that would make this over-long. But in this deep root area, I have not changed much at all. The fruits of the spirit are just not there. I know how to make them look like they're there, but that's not the same thing. It's not. What's real is the natural outpouring of the heart when we're not trying.
What's been coming out of me lately means I'm either possessed or have just opened up a dark corner of my internal house and found it has been rotting in there for a long time. I don't want to go into what made me realize this, but suffice to say you'll probably imagine it worse than it was outwardly, but if I told you, you'd imagine it far less than it was inwardly. So I won't say.
But this made me think of how that could happen. How could I pursue virtue and good character and not find even a little of it? I think it's because I'm pursuing the wrong thing. You see, any time we Christians lay an expectation on another, we force them, be it insidiously slight or brashly overt, to ACT like we tell them they should. It's all about the DIY. Fruits are love, joy, peace, patience... So I'll just be more loving, joyful, peaceful, patient. I won't be perfect, but heck, we're all sinners saved by grace, right? It's the try that counts and the more we try, the more we actually become. Fake it till you make it!
This is wrong. God wants us not to love him from obligation or expectation. He wants us to genuinely love him. He'd rather us reject him than pretend. This is the only explanation that makes sense. So if I'm doing something good that my heart's not into, I might as well not do it. Better to be bad and honest than good and a liar because the first leads to real life, while the other leads to white-washed tombs.
So this part isn't new. I've blogged about it before. But what is new is the realization that I am one of the tombs. If it took a trip to hell to open my eyes to that, then I thank God for it. I've got to quit this, but I can't. So I have to re-learn it all from this perspective. He does the work. I just grow however he grows me; I can't, sow, hoe, water, and prune myself.
So if you think I've fallen off the deep end, you were just one of those I duped. Please don't try to draw me back in. It's hard to stay honest in this. And I'm faking it enough already in writing this so cleanly.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Charlie
Here we are at holiday season again in the U.S. It starts with Thanksgiving. Which is a day to give thanks for all that we have through the year. It is based in our earliest history as a nation. Really, one of the founding events for Americans as a people...the merging of Native American and European cultures.
But in reality, it has become nothing more than a day to party. Just like every other popular holiday here. And American party means noise, alcohol, and a general excuse to act rude and slightly debauched in the name of "good cheer". People have already started buying enough food to feed a developing village for a week. Some are having dinners tonight. Tomorrow the real feasting will occur. Some people going to 3 or 4 feasts.
Then Friday following has become a day to consume yet even more as people flock to stores and fight to buy all the bait and switch deals. I have never been to a store on "Black Friday" but I did go to one on Sunday after, last year. Things were literally thrown around like a riot had occurred. This is "celebrating".
And I'll have to go to some obligatory feast of my own (I'll only do one)...deciding which family group will feel most slighted if I don't go. I'll see people I don't know and don't have anything in common with, other than some tenuous genetic connections. I'll smile and be cordial and make polite excuses for not eating foods I can't eat and probably get sick from eating some things just to shut people up.
Christmas specials have already started in stores, on TV, everywhere telling me what I am supposed to do and feel and most having no concept of what the holiday really is...or rather no concept of what that means...I'm sure most actually know what it is about.
So now starts my least favorite time of year. I wish I could just not participate at all. The favorite holiday season of my life was the one I spent in Japan where most didn't know about my holidays and fewer cared. I was able to keep them in my own way, sharing peaceful and enjoyable time with my family and a few friends we shared our traditions with. But unfortunately, here that is impossible.
I'll try not to be obviously negative so as not to ruin it for others...but maybe it's worth ruining. Am I doing those I care for a disservice by not expressing what is hollow and wrong?
I have made certain stands, but they are to little avail against the tide of prescribed consumption and obligatory "cheer".
So if you see me through this season, give me a little nod that you understand. I know I'm not alone. And if you disagree, that's fine. You keep it your way and leave me to keep it mine. You've got the whole culture with you. The least you could do is give me a little space to salvage what good I can scrounge out of it without judgement or pressure.
But in reality, it has become nothing more than a day to party. Just like every other popular holiday here. And American party means noise, alcohol, and a general excuse to act rude and slightly debauched in the name of "good cheer". People have already started buying enough food to feed a developing village for a week. Some are having dinners tonight. Tomorrow the real feasting will occur. Some people going to 3 or 4 feasts.
Then Friday following has become a day to consume yet even more as people flock to stores and fight to buy all the bait and switch deals. I have never been to a store on "Black Friday" but I did go to one on Sunday after, last year. Things were literally thrown around like a riot had occurred. This is "celebrating".
And I'll have to go to some obligatory feast of my own (I'll only do one)...deciding which family group will feel most slighted if I don't go. I'll see people I don't know and don't have anything in common with, other than some tenuous genetic connections. I'll smile and be cordial and make polite excuses for not eating foods I can't eat and probably get sick from eating some things just to shut people up.
Christmas specials have already started in stores, on TV, everywhere telling me what I am supposed to do and feel and most having no concept of what the holiday really is...or rather no concept of what that means...I'm sure most actually know what it is about.
So now starts my least favorite time of year. I wish I could just not participate at all. The favorite holiday season of my life was the one I spent in Japan where most didn't know about my holidays and fewer cared. I was able to keep them in my own way, sharing peaceful and enjoyable time with my family and a few friends we shared our traditions with. But unfortunately, here that is impossible.
I'll try not to be obviously negative so as not to ruin it for others...but maybe it's worth ruining. Am I doing those I care for a disservice by not expressing what is hollow and wrong?
I have made certain stands, but they are to little avail against the tide of prescribed consumption and obligatory "cheer".
So if you see me through this season, give me a little nod that you understand. I know I'm not alone. And if you disagree, that's fine. You keep it your way and leave me to keep it mine. You've got the whole culture with you. The least you could do is give me a little space to salvage what good I can scrounge out of it without judgement or pressure.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Piercing
The description of this blog is that it is real and raw and unfiltered. It is an attempt to process things I see, think about, encounter, etc. As such it isn't really a good read, will never be popular. But sometimes I look back at what I wrote and can see how it was prophetic...this doesn't mean predicts the future, but illustrates what God is doing.
For instance, I haven't blogged in a while because stuff has been going on. I cycle through nonexpressive times. but that doesn't mean all is well or bad. Just nothing to process in this way. So today an idea hits me and I sit down to write it. Before doing it I read the last entry, which I had honestly forgotten about. Wow! what I intended to write is the further progression of what I was writing about then. If there's any doubt that my life is guided by an intelligence other than myself, this is it. I didn't even remember writing it, so I obviously didn't self-fulfill.
Anyway, I get tired sometimes. Like brain spirit tired. I just can't go on. I want to curl up and sink into nothing. I'm in one of those times now. Ironically, it's in these times of not caring so much that I can reveal deeper truths about myself. For instance the seething hatred for those who try to motivate and seminar Christianity. I have friends who actually do recognize what Christianity should be, but they go about trying to implement it through motivational seminars, trainings, book jacket facebook posts, etc. One went so far as to tell the reader to "man up" which meant sign up for the seminar. Forgive me if you ever read this my friend. It's not personal, I know you have a good heart and are working the best you know how. But that just bends me the wrong way. Since when does manhood, masculinity, toughness, denial of self, or whatever else the term "man up" could mean have anything to do with signing up for some stupid presentation! That's what Jesus did, sure. Walked around passing out flyers and getting people to go meet him on the hillside for "two hours that will change your life"..."are you man enough to show up?" Howl and tear my clothes, man!
Who are these people trying to reach? Unless there's a group of self-help junkie guys who are insecure in their own manhood, who else is going to get anything real out of that?! You certainly won't get the gay 20 year old who was abused by his father and keeps posting pics of big ol' **** on his facebook page! Or the kid sitting in his closet slicing his arms with a pocket knife...yeah they just need to "man up"!
I'm just picking on this example because it was the steel striking my flint right now. But there are countless others. I've heard many pastors give a great sermon about using your talents, finding what God wants you to do, only to ruin it by ending with, "that means you need to stop by the sign-up table out in the lobby and fill out an interest card." F***in' cereal box Christians! I want to go turn the table over like Jesus in the temple. And if a bleeped out word from a Christian blogger throws you off, what are you gonna do with the lady who sleeps with your pastor to get closer to God!
Ironically, I had someone come very seriously to ask me if I would lead a home group for her kids since she had seen how together my son was and she couldn't think of anyone she'd rather have teaching her kids. I must be doing something right. Wow would she be in for a shock. How do you let someone like that down easy? I just had to say I'd consider it and hope a convenient excuse comes up before she asks again. What else was I to say? Sure, I'll lead the group. First thing I'll tell them is the best person to teach kids is THEIR PARENTS! Then I'd tell them to read their own Bible and question everything anyone ever tells them about it. I'll tell them to stand on their own, that they were strong and powerful and could take down cities if God told them to. I'd tell them to get into fights if that's what it takes to defend the defenseless. To give up everything including life itself to meet a need laid before them. I could keep going. She'd run for the hills!
If my kid is any indication of my parenting, I can tell you it's by the grace of God and not my own skill. But, just recently two kids got off his bus in the neighborhood and one swung on the other. A fight started. He dropped his stuff and ran back to break them up. Jumped right in the middle. The next day a parent came and asked who had stepped in. My son admitted to it. Next thing the principal of the school called him in to give him accommodation and tell everyone they need more people like him.
Which brings me to my intended point. We have become a nation of sheep, passively walking in line, not stepping on the grass, wearing our bike helmets and getting out of the water when thunder is heard. All great safety tips, right? Sure if you want to manage a huge populace...make them milquetoasts, make it seem morally honorable to follow the letter of the rules. I even saw a PSA that said kids should wear life vests and water shoes even if walking near the water...just NEAR it! How about toughing their feet by running barefoot and learning to walk carefully, swim well enough to save not just yourself, but someone else!
Climb the trees, walk in the grass, get dirty, and do something real. How can we expect Christians to do amazing things when we train them to be model linewalkers! That's what God wants...good little do-bees who sign the papers, and sing, but not too loudly, wave their arms, but not really let loose.
You are what you practice being. Are you willing to get dirty? Do you even know what that means? Here's a paralell: you run in the gym, maybe on the paved trail...I'm sitting here covered in bits of leaves and spiderwebs stinging from splinters and scratches. The difference between those two is a comparison of the distance between your seminar Christianity and the real needs. You wouldn't know what to do with the people if they started showing up! Do you know what the Wiccan Rede is? Ever read the Koran? Had coffee with the lady who runs a non profit to promote sex-worker rights against "those Christian organizations" who force them from "an ancient and esteemed traditional role into menial factory jobs"?
I'm tired of not speaking out about this. You decide who you want to be. If you want to break the norm, you have to break the norm. That means taking some real risks. If you're faithful in small you'll be faithful in much.
You know, you may not ever be equipped to deal with the kind of people I've described. That's ok. Young upwardly mobile preppy types give me shivers, myself. But know for every type, there are people who can meet their needs. Just get rid of your delusions that you have the answer for everyone and stop making it harder for those who are willing and capable to go where you can't.
For instance, I haven't blogged in a while because stuff has been going on. I cycle through nonexpressive times. but that doesn't mean all is well or bad. Just nothing to process in this way. So today an idea hits me and I sit down to write it. Before doing it I read the last entry, which I had honestly forgotten about. Wow! what I intended to write is the further progression of what I was writing about then. If there's any doubt that my life is guided by an intelligence other than myself, this is it. I didn't even remember writing it, so I obviously didn't self-fulfill.
Anyway, I get tired sometimes. Like brain spirit tired. I just can't go on. I want to curl up and sink into nothing. I'm in one of those times now. Ironically, it's in these times of not caring so much that I can reveal deeper truths about myself. For instance the seething hatred for those who try to motivate and seminar Christianity. I have friends who actually do recognize what Christianity should be, but they go about trying to implement it through motivational seminars, trainings, book jacket facebook posts, etc. One went so far as to tell the reader to "man up" which meant sign up for the seminar. Forgive me if you ever read this my friend. It's not personal, I know you have a good heart and are working the best you know how. But that just bends me the wrong way. Since when does manhood, masculinity, toughness, denial of self, or whatever else the term "man up" could mean have anything to do with signing up for some stupid presentation! That's what Jesus did, sure. Walked around passing out flyers and getting people to go meet him on the hillside for "two hours that will change your life"..."are you man enough to show up?" Howl and tear my clothes, man!
Who are these people trying to reach? Unless there's a group of self-help junkie guys who are insecure in their own manhood, who else is going to get anything real out of that?! You certainly won't get the gay 20 year old who was abused by his father and keeps posting pics of big ol' **** on his facebook page! Or the kid sitting in his closet slicing his arms with a pocket knife...yeah they just need to "man up"!
I'm just picking on this example because it was the steel striking my flint right now. But there are countless others. I've heard many pastors give a great sermon about using your talents, finding what God wants you to do, only to ruin it by ending with, "that means you need to stop by the sign-up table out in the lobby and fill out an interest card." F***in' cereal box Christians! I want to go turn the table over like Jesus in the temple. And if a bleeped out word from a Christian blogger throws you off, what are you gonna do with the lady who sleeps with your pastor to get closer to God!
Ironically, I had someone come very seriously to ask me if I would lead a home group for her kids since she had seen how together my son was and she couldn't think of anyone she'd rather have teaching her kids. I must be doing something right. Wow would she be in for a shock. How do you let someone like that down easy? I just had to say I'd consider it and hope a convenient excuse comes up before she asks again. What else was I to say? Sure, I'll lead the group. First thing I'll tell them is the best person to teach kids is THEIR PARENTS! Then I'd tell them to read their own Bible and question everything anyone ever tells them about it. I'll tell them to stand on their own, that they were strong and powerful and could take down cities if God told them to. I'd tell them to get into fights if that's what it takes to defend the defenseless. To give up everything including life itself to meet a need laid before them. I could keep going. She'd run for the hills!
If my kid is any indication of my parenting, I can tell you it's by the grace of God and not my own skill. But, just recently two kids got off his bus in the neighborhood and one swung on the other. A fight started. He dropped his stuff and ran back to break them up. Jumped right in the middle. The next day a parent came and asked who had stepped in. My son admitted to it. Next thing the principal of the school called him in to give him accommodation and tell everyone they need more people like him.
Which brings me to my intended point. We have become a nation of sheep, passively walking in line, not stepping on the grass, wearing our bike helmets and getting out of the water when thunder is heard. All great safety tips, right? Sure if you want to manage a huge populace...make them milquetoasts, make it seem morally honorable to follow the letter of the rules. I even saw a PSA that said kids should wear life vests and water shoes even if walking near the water...just NEAR it! How about toughing their feet by running barefoot and learning to walk carefully, swim well enough to save not just yourself, but someone else!
Climb the trees, walk in the grass, get dirty, and do something real. How can we expect Christians to do amazing things when we train them to be model linewalkers! That's what God wants...good little do-bees who sign the papers, and sing, but not too loudly, wave their arms, but not really let loose.
You are what you practice being. Are you willing to get dirty? Do you even know what that means? Here's a paralell: you run in the gym, maybe on the paved trail...I'm sitting here covered in bits of leaves and spiderwebs stinging from splinters and scratches. The difference between those two is a comparison of the distance between your seminar Christianity and the real needs. You wouldn't know what to do with the people if they started showing up! Do you know what the Wiccan Rede is? Ever read the Koran? Had coffee with the lady who runs a non profit to promote sex-worker rights against "those Christian organizations" who force them from "an ancient and esteemed traditional role into menial factory jobs"?
I'm tired of not speaking out about this. You decide who you want to be. If you want to break the norm, you have to break the norm. That means taking some real risks. If you're faithful in small you'll be faithful in much.
You know, you may not ever be equipped to deal with the kind of people I've described. That's ok. Young upwardly mobile preppy types give me shivers, myself. But know for every type, there are people who can meet their needs. Just get rid of your delusions that you have the answer for everyone and stop making it harder for those who are willing and capable to go where you can't.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Real Act
I just read an article citing statistical characteristics of kids who grow up in church and don't leave it when they get older. This is a huge phenomenon, if you don't know. Kids grow up going to church, doing good things, then leave either quietly or not so much, or fall into problems that most Christians think they should have been insulated against such as drugs, pregnancy, atheism, etc.
This article cited three main characteristics of those that stay. 1. they have had a conversion experience. Makes sense because those who simply grow up there can talk it and walk it, but it isn't necessarily a real thing for them. So can they truly be called Christians in the first place? As the Supertones said, "if you say you used to be a Christian, then you never were."
2. they are equipped to deal with life and not just entertained. Again makes sense because most contemporary protestant churches and probably many of the nonprotestant bent focus so much on drawing them in that they lose all but the merest shred of content and become nothing more than "clean" social clubs. Which apparently aren't that clean either given the ways in which so many I've known have fallen out. There's an infamous case (which could be rumor, though I don't doubt it could well be true) where a girl got pregnant in the church I grew up in while playing a youth group game...it resulted in a ban on any games that left us out of sight for more than like 5 minutes...which interestingly enough didn't stop any of those who fell out in my day from doing so...hmmm.
3. they are taught at home. Again makes sense. If a family is leaving their children's spiritual education up to professionals and volunteers who see them maybe 3 hours a week...c'mon. But even still this is not fool-proof and I know several very stable families who did everything right to no avail.
This struck me. I don't disagree with the article. Makes sense, right? But still doesn't seem to hit the nail on the head. So how many will read that article and try to engineer these traits? The thing is, I can point to many of my own friends who have had a so-called conversion experience who now reject the faith utterly, even those who came and left it far after their teens. I know people with advanced religious education who have done the same. These ought to be "equipped", yeah? And as I pointed out, even the best families can't control everything. I've seen the controlling ones who drive kids away and the more moderate who lose them still.
I don't know the answers here. But I do know I am one of those kids who didn't leave, and I know why. I did hit a wall in my faith as a teen. I shouldn't say wall...it was more like a desert. I had the so-called conversion. I had the equipping and the family training in the form of hours of formal discipleship and biblical training as well as the fortunate gift of logical training and reason. But it still all just seemed pointless. As my questions deepened and broadened, the answers I was getting were mostly insufficient because people who were teaching me didn't understand or couldn't articulate themselves. I naturally began to explore other things after my own peculiar flavor of poison. But in my case, God pursued me. He broke through my reality in seen and unseen ways. He brought notable people who would speak powerful lasers of truth into me...sometimes just one statement at a critical time. He sent me dreams...vivid visions. And he allowed me to break myself so that I would be receptive when he stepped in for a greater revelation.
That was when real conversion happened. Oh yes, it happened. But it isn't something that can be engineered in a building with lights and music and retreats. It is a deeply personal, tragic, painful sort of conversion in which I had nothing left and was given a new hope...a new life. This is why I say like CS Lewis, I was drug in kicking and screaming. In reality, I was more carried in after I had passed out and given up, but I was kicking and screaming up to that point in that I would accept nothing less than reality, Truth.
A few years after this, a mentor of mine posed this question that reveals for me how I felt prior and after. He said, "If you came to a fork in the road and Truth went one way and Jesus went the other, which way would you go?" My answer was a resounding "Truth". But here's the trick of the question: I've found that every time I perceive this dichotomy, it's because I have a false conception of...Jesus. (I bet you thought I was going to say Truth. If so, you need to stop drinking your evangelical koolaid.) You see, every time I went toward what I saw as Truth and left Jesus behind, I'd find a clearer, brighter, realer Jesus standing right around the bend. I couldn't get away from the guy! And Thank God! Because when I was utterly undone, he brought me back.
You see, it isn't a choice. It isn't a point of decision...though I guess that exists somewhere or for some people. It's an acceptance of what is. A giving up to what I couldn't change. The point of decision for me, has come multiple times after that as I am forced to decide whether my experiences are real or if I was/am psychotic. But when I think about it, I can't choose otherwise. There is nihilism, the nothing of no meaning, no caring, no feeling, emptiness of unrequited existence, or there is God who has revealed himself to me in the man Jesus. Psychotic or not, I'm not going back in the pit...probably couldn't if I tried. He'd just pull me back out again.
So, is Calvin right? Am I just Elect and these kids, men, women are not? I'm not building theology, here, just asking a legitimate question. Or are they just not at the point yet?
Really, this question isn't what we should focus on. Rather, what are we going to do about it. If Calvinistic, we don't know who is elected and have a duty to relieve the suffering of all anyway. If Evangelical, they're just not ready and no amount of coercing or engineering will change that. So I suggest we start with one thing. Be real.
Shed the pomp and hoohah. Cut the bright lights and fancy marketing tactics. Get off the rockstar pedestals and deeply search. Find out what's real. I'll help you. Come talk to me one on one, I promise I won't pull any punches. You'll walk away questioning things you never thought you could. Then, once we're gates of hell, standing in the burning pyre, flayed alive sure of what we believe, we simply act. In the moment, in the real, act. Feed, clothe, pray, comfort, support, help, encourage, love, bleed, cry, die in proportion to the faith we each have.
This is Jesus, by the book, man.
This article cited three main characteristics of those that stay. 1. they have had a conversion experience. Makes sense because those who simply grow up there can talk it and walk it, but it isn't necessarily a real thing for them. So can they truly be called Christians in the first place? As the Supertones said, "if you say you used to be a Christian, then you never were."
2. they are equipped to deal with life and not just entertained. Again makes sense because most contemporary protestant churches and probably many of the nonprotestant bent focus so much on drawing them in that they lose all but the merest shred of content and become nothing more than "clean" social clubs. Which apparently aren't that clean either given the ways in which so many I've known have fallen out. There's an infamous case (which could be rumor, though I don't doubt it could well be true) where a girl got pregnant in the church I grew up in while playing a youth group game...it resulted in a ban on any games that left us out of sight for more than like 5 minutes...which interestingly enough didn't stop any of those who fell out in my day from doing so...hmmm.
3. they are taught at home. Again makes sense. If a family is leaving their children's spiritual education up to professionals and volunteers who see them maybe 3 hours a week...c'mon. But even still this is not fool-proof and I know several very stable families who did everything right to no avail.
This struck me. I don't disagree with the article. Makes sense, right? But still doesn't seem to hit the nail on the head. So how many will read that article and try to engineer these traits? The thing is, I can point to many of my own friends who have had a so-called conversion experience who now reject the faith utterly, even those who came and left it far after their teens. I know people with advanced religious education who have done the same. These ought to be "equipped", yeah? And as I pointed out, even the best families can't control everything. I've seen the controlling ones who drive kids away and the more moderate who lose them still.
I don't know the answers here. But I do know I am one of those kids who didn't leave, and I know why. I did hit a wall in my faith as a teen. I shouldn't say wall...it was more like a desert. I had the so-called conversion. I had the equipping and the family training in the form of hours of formal discipleship and biblical training as well as the fortunate gift of logical training and reason. But it still all just seemed pointless. As my questions deepened and broadened, the answers I was getting were mostly insufficient because people who were teaching me didn't understand or couldn't articulate themselves. I naturally began to explore other things after my own peculiar flavor of poison. But in my case, God pursued me. He broke through my reality in seen and unseen ways. He brought notable people who would speak powerful lasers of truth into me...sometimes just one statement at a critical time. He sent me dreams...vivid visions. And he allowed me to break myself so that I would be receptive when he stepped in for a greater revelation.
That was when real conversion happened. Oh yes, it happened. But it isn't something that can be engineered in a building with lights and music and retreats. It is a deeply personal, tragic, painful sort of conversion in which I had nothing left and was given a new hope...a new life. This is why I say like CS Lewis, I was drug in kicking and screaming. In reality, I was more carried in after I had passed out and given up, but I was kicking and screaming up to that point in that I would accept nothing less than reality, Truth.
A few years after this, a mentor of mine posed this question that reveals for me how I felt prior and after. He said, "If you came to a fork in the road and Truth went one way and Jesus went the other, which way would you go?" My answer was a resounding "Truth". But here's the trick of the question: I've found that every time I perceive this dichotomy, it's because I have a false conception of...Jesus. (I bet you thought I was going to say Truth. If so, you need to stop drinking your evangelical koolaid.) You see, every time I went toward what I saw as Truth and left Jesus behind, I'd find a clearer, brighter, realer Jesus standing right around the bend. I couldn't get away from the guy! And Thank God! Because when I was utterly undone, he brought me back.
You see, it isn't a choice. It isn't a point of decision...though I guess that exists somewhere or for some people. It's an acceptance of what is. A giving up to what I couldn't change. The point of decision for me, has come multiple times after that as I am forced to decide whether my experiences are real or if I was/am psychotic. But when I think about it, I can't choose otherwise. There is nihilism, the nothing of no meaning, no caring, no feeling, emptiness of unrequited existence, or there is God who has revealed himself to me in the man Jesus. Psychotic or not, I'm not going back in the pit...probably couldn't if I tried. He'd just pull me back out again.
So, is Calvin right? Am I just Elect and these kids, men, women are not? I'm not building theology, here, just asking a legitimate question. Or are they just not at the point yet?
Really, this question isn't what we should focus on. Rather, what are we going to do about it. If Calvinistic, we don't know who is elected and have a duty to relieve the suffering of all anyway. If Evangelical, they're just not ready and no amount of coercing or engineering will change that. So I suggest we start with one thing. Be real.
Shed the pomp and hoohah. Cut the bright lights and fancy marketing tactics. Get off the rockstar pedestals and deeply search. Find out what's real. I'll help you. Come talk to me one on one, I promise I won't pull any punches. You'll walk away questioning things you never thought you could. Then, once we're gates of hell, standing in the burning pyre, flayed alive sure of what we believe, we simply act. In the moment, in the real, act. Feed, clothe, pray, comfort, support, help, encourage, love, bleed, cry, die in proportion to the faith we each have.
This is Jesus, by the book, man.
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