State of the Heffren Address

I would like to begin this post with a quotation from a blog post that my good friend Charlie wrote in May:

I secretly have a "Blog War" with David Heffren. He doesn't know about it(well, he might not if he reads this post like a good friend would). I saw that before tonight, we both have posted 11 blog posts so far this year, and as I walked into our dorm room, I saw him writing a new post. I can't let him write more blog posts than me, so I decided to write one. I know that people usually write when they have something of importance or meaningful on their minds, but I am competitive by nature. So I guess you could say this post was born out of spite for David Heffren. So take that four-eyes.

This is now my 43rd blog post of 2010, whereas Charlie has only written 40 of them. He made a good showing, but he just couldn't handle me down the homestretch.

Right now I'm in Boise, Idaho because my friend Ryan (and my roommate last semester) is getting married tomorrow afternoon. When I first met Ryan, I never would have thought he would have gotten married before me. Actually, that's a lie. This guy was just too fashionable. You can only hold him down for so long. So far, Idaho is a pretty killer place. When we landed, we could see a mountain from snow all over it, which was a nice change from just looking at dead trees and the Jehovah's Witness church out my back door. Plus, we had some delicious Red Robin for the rehearsal dinner last night. Not a bad way to end the year.

At the end of each year, I like to write a blog post to review the previous twelve months in my life, picking out the most notable events. So as I look back on 2010, the first thing that comes to mind is when I went to New York City in January for a class. I had never really been to NYC before, and it was a great time. I met Mike Ditka, which is a story that I'll never get tired of telling. I ate lots of pizza. I tried on $6000 jackets. I talked with a crazy guy at Starbucks that told us how he passed out for PCP. I ate free dessert from the Italian restaurant manager that somehow remembered Ray. All in all, a successful trip.

2010 was a year of transition. Not so much because of things changing a lot in my own life, but more because of so many of my good friends graduating and going of to bring real life. April and May were kind of weird months, because of the the upcoming graduates would want to get in all of the time they could with their friends, so it felt like people were wanting to hang out all the time. This was a shift because I'm used to people not wanting to hang out with me at all. Graduation was a pretty sad time, but it was still exciting to see all of the incredible things that my friends are doing in ministry, and I truly consider myself fortunate to have spent a few years rubbing shoulders with them.

Probably the most noteworthy part of my year was my summer spent in Corvallis, Oregon where I did a student ministry internship with Suburban Christian Church. If you've been an avid reader of my blog from the beginning, you may know that I spent a month in the Northwest while I was on camp teams, and I was anxious to go back. The people at Suburban were great, and I couldn't have asked for much of a better summer. Granted, I had to struggle with driving a stick shift for three months, but once I stopped being bothered by all the other drivers flipping me off, I could settle in and really enjoy myself. Oregon really is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. I always say that you can get to every biome of the world in a two-hour drive. I'll be heading back to Corvallis a week from today, and I'm pretty stoked for that. I just hope the people there remember me.



I think I have written this before, but my time since getting  back from Oregon has been a bit of a blur, so I'll just summarize it all here in a few sentences. I'm still at Ozark. I preach now at a little church in Commerce, Oklahoma. It's challenging at times, but still going great. Connor and I went to Indiana to visit our lost friend Charlie, and it was a great trip, except when Charlie's car broke down at a gas station in Louisville. My intramural volleyball team got second place, thanks to our average height of about 6'2". I went to a lot of weddings (Ryan's tomorrow will be the fifth one in the past four months). And....that's about it.

As far as looking forward to 2011, I guess the only thing I know for sure is that I'll go to a wedding tomorrow. I'm pretty sure I'm going to graduate this year, but I don't want to count my chickens too much. After that, the year is pretty wide open, which is exciting in a way but a little scary in many more. Have a great New Year's Eve. I'm going to spend my time stealing some kisses from Charlie (Hershey's, that is).

100 Posts and We Haven't Broken a Hip Yet!

Today is a special day. I've been looking forward to it for some time, in fact. Maybe a month or two ago, I noticed that I had written over 90 blog posts since I started A Chicken in a Cage with a Ferret two and a half years ago. Because of that, I've just written garbage for the past few posts so that I could get to this one. Welcome to (drumroll......) my 100TH BLOG POST! This probably ranks somewhere in the top 43 accomplishments of my life, for sure. There are so many people out there that I want to thank: my 17 followers, my five readers, the Starbucks guy that made my chai latte today, Don Miller for providing my blog title, my once-upon-a-time co-writer Caitlyn, Charlie for name-dropping me in his blog, and, most of all, I thank myself, just for being you. Go get 'em, Tiger. One hundred is an important number. I remember that when I was little, I was so impressed by how my older sister would stomp on empty soda cans and smash them, and I wanted to do it too, but she said that I would be unable to until I weighed 100 pounds. I was so distraught. As excited as I am about having 100 blog posts, however, I sometimes wonder how my life might be different if I had spent all the time it took to write all of this working out in the gym instead. I would probably get my lunch money stolen way less often.

Do you ever feel like you're always just waiting for the next thing? I do, and I think that the same is true of many people. For example, Christmas is over now. I remember how, when I was a little kid, the day after Christmas I would think, "Holy cow. Now I have to wait an entire year for Christmas to get here again. I would feel so down about the prospect of having to endure another 12 months of days not getting presents. Normal life is so drab when you compare it with Christmas, after all. We look forward to and wait for other moments in life, too. I wanted to go to Ozark for college since I was a freshman in high school, and I was often frustrated by the fact that I had to graduate high school before they would take me. Other people just can't wait for their wedding day once they get engaged. A good friend of mine is getting married this Saturday, and I think his fiance has probably been counting down the days since April.

These sorts of things happen all the time. Personally, I feel like I am always unsatisfied with where I am and what I'm doing at the moment because I am constantly looking forward to the next thing. There is a danger in this. We can spend so much energy focusing on some point in the future that we miss where we are now. I had lunch with my sister today, and we talked briefly about how dang old we are getting. I'm going to be 23 in a few weeks! I have no business being 23. People that age are supposed to have some sort of handle on life. I didn't really even own any long-sleeved shirts until yesterday. I'm obviously not prepared. The thing about getting older is that it doesn't wait for you to be ready. In school, you have to pass one grade to move up to the next one, but with age, you get older every year no matter what. They're no tests. You're just expected to keep up. Time is one cruel master. And yet, as I continue to age, I worry about what kinds of good things I have missed in my life so far because I was so concentrated on what's next. Conversations I could have had, laughs I could have shared, weddings I could have crashed.

It's all a pretty tricky practice. It's like we need three eyes. One to reflect on and learn from the past, one to be paying attention to what's going on in the present, and one to be planning for and looking forward to the future. We run into problems when one of these eyes starts doing all of the work. When we focus too much on the past, we get stuck in regrets and are unable to move forward in life. When we focus solely on the present, we make foolish mistakes and are ill-prepared for what might meet us in the future. And when we are too focused on the future, we miss out on what good things are happening in our lives now. It's not an easy thing to do, especially with people who as poor vision as me. So in this, my 100th post, my encouragement to you is this: Find out which of these eyes you need to give some special attention to, and try to work some balance into your life. Learn from the past. Live in the moment. Plan for the future.

When a television series films their 100th episode, I think they usually get a giant cake and have a big party for all of the cast and crew. And I wanted to do something similar, but I can't really bake, and I would be a big fatty if I made a whole cake for myself. So I did the next best thing--I bought a double-decker taco from Taco Bell to celebrate. Hooray a-for me!

And now here's your chance to join in the celebration. For those of you who have been reading my blog for a while, I'm curious if there is a specific post that you've especially liked. I want to know this for a couple reasons. First, I'm proud and arrogant and like to be patted on the back. But also, if I know what good things I have written, maybe I can do a better job of emulating those posts in the future. Plus, I have to know which ones to include in my book. If you leave a comment, I'll pay you with 100 high-fives (or "knucks", if you prefer), or I will give your greatest enemy 100 punches in the face. Your choice.

Tradition

It's Christmas Eve. It's funny how different Christmas feels compared to when I was a kid. Christmas used to be the highlight of my entire year, and I would could down the days till Christmas beginning in November. And then, the day after, I would think, "Dang, now I have to wait an entire year for Christmas! I can't do it!" Nowadays, the holiday just sort of sneaks up on me until one morning I wake up at the break of noon and realize it's here. This year, I don't even have a blizzard or power outage to signal that it is indeed Christmas. If it weren't for everyone putting Christmasy statuses on their facebook profiles, I would probably miss the whole thing.

What do you first think of when you hear the word "tradition"? Many people associate traditions with Christmas. (Or, they might associate it with that song from Fiddler on the Roof, which is not a very good Christmas movie at all.) In fact, Christmas seems incomplete for some families without their traditions. They eat certain foods, watch certain movies, wear the same sweaters, etc. I was thinking tonight about whether or not my family has many traditions, and I came to the conclusion that we really don't. We eat dinner. I think that's about it. And every year I try to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, but I think that's just me. Not everyone in my family appreciates it as much. If you want to hear about some Christmas traditions, you can read this.

Tradition is not only important for celebrating Christmas, but it is also important in the Christian life. The concept of tradition shows up quite a bit in the Bible. In some instances, tradition is viewed as a negative thing. Jesus condemns the religious leaders for holding to manmade traditions at the cost of obeying God (Mk. 7). In these passages, tradition is set up against God's word, and the reader is warned against placing "the way we do things" on the same level as divine command. In other instances, however, tradition is valued as the teachings that were handed down in the church. That's what tradition means--something that is handed down. In this sense, Paul tells his readers to "stand firm and hold to the teachings (tradition) we passed on to you" (2 Thess. 2:15).

That's what our faith is. It's a tradition. It's something that has been handed down for centuries. It's not something that sprang out of someone's imagination. It's root is in the historical events surrounding Jesus, and eyewitnesses passed it on to others, who in turn passed it on, all the way down to us today. The church today finds its origins in this tradition. And that is a comforting thing, I think. Traditions unite a family. They are markers of identity. That is why families value their holiday traditions so highly--those traditions remind the family of who they are. In the same way, the Christian tradition brings unity to the church. The gospel is the story that binds us. Along with this, we have other traditions and church practices that unite us. We celebrate Jesus' birth through Christmas. We take the Lord's Supper to remember Jesus' sacrifice. We baptize to join in Jesus' death and resurrection. All over the world, Christians engage in this tradition of the Christian life. It brings us together, so that I can know that I am following Christ, not by myself, but alongside Catholics in Ecuador, non-instrumentalists in Nashville, house churches in China, and Pentecostals in Africa. We are the church, formed and directed by the tradition handed down to us.

I hope you all have the merriest Christmas imaginable and that Santa gives you anything you could want. I also hope you catch someone under the mistletoe. Now there's a tradition that needs to be taken full advantage of.

Stuff I Like

There won't be much material of substance in this post. I suppose that's a pretty terrible way to get you to continue reading. Eh. Recently I was thinking about how I tend to be a complainer. It's a lot easier for me to focus on what I don't like about a given situation than it is to focus on the positive. And so, I thought it might be good for my personal health to list some things that I truly like. It is Christmas season, after all. Isn't this the kind of thing people do for the holidays? I mean, besides overeating and watching stop-motion movies. I guess I'll just keep listing things I like until I either run out or get too distracted. Or until an attractive female calls me up and wants to go get pancakes.

-I like seeing the people at the mall that are getting those Chinese massages in the little chairs. It seems like the most awkward place in the entire world to have that done.
-I like watching a couple Homestar Runner cartoons every day. Even though I've seen them all a hundred times, they serve as little reminders that the world is still pretty good.
-I like winter because the long nights make me feel reflective.
-I like that I'll be going back to Oregon in  21 days.
-I like observing other people's terribly awkward, uncomfortable situations. I even sort of like my own awkward situations.
-I like this commercial.
-I like to listen to my Friday playlist and hope that someday, somewhere, by some freak set of circumstances, I'll be a good dancer.
-I like to look at all the books on the shelves when I'm in someone's office or dorm room.
-I like people who comment on my blog posts. They're my best friends. Everyone else is not.
-I like the word "voluminous."
-I maybe, sort of, kind of like a few Superchick songs a little bit. Please don't think less of me.
-I like Coca-Cola, and I like when my friends' fiances keep the fridge stocked with two-liter bottles of it.
-I like being in a crowd, like in a mall during Christmas season or walking the sidewalks of a big city. Not that interact with anyone in the crowd. I just like being there.
-I like reminiscing about the "good old days" of freshman year when I played pool every afternoon, ate pizza every weekend, and took a nap every other hour.
-I like video montages, like the ones they show at the end of the Olympics or during the college football national championship.
-I like when people who write the blogs on my sidebar write a new post. Hint hint.
-I like Alumni jokes.
-I like listening to Flobots, pretending I know something about politics, and feeling like I'm sticking it to the man.
-I like intramural basketball. Especially when my teammates let me start the game when we play a team that's not very good.
-I like the Christmas gift you're going to give me.
-I like writing my sermons in coffee shops. It makes me look so cultured, I think. Now only if I used an iPad from the pulpit....
-I like the cover of the Sonic & Knuckles game for Sega Genesis.
-I like that the Cincinnati Reds finally had a winning season this year.
-I like when I make an allusion to Freaks and Geeks or Arrested Development, and someone knows what I'm referencing.
-I like going to the bank in Joplin on Tuesdays.
-I like spending the weekend at Ryan's apartment. It makes me feel like I can do whatever I want, even though we all know I'm not going to do anything I wouldn't normally do.
-I like the feeling of waking up, thinking it's time to go to class, looking at your clock, realizing it's only 2:42 a.m., and rolling back over to go to sleep.
-I like to break out into random beatbox sessions, even though I'm about the worst beatboxer I know.
-I like when girls wear glasses. I also like that glasses are becoming fashionable as a rule, and I like to think that I'm the reason.
-I like to make faces in pictures, except there are only about five that I do. I guess I should work on some new ones.
-I like lil' smokies. Actually, "like" isn't strong enough of a word. Love? Adore? Am infatuated with?
-I like bowling. Except when a girl beats me. Or Charlie.
-I like reading all the Facebook posts wishing me a happy birthday and thinking, "Gosh, that's awful nice of that person. Especially after we haven't talked in four years."

So as you can see, I like a lot of things. Feel free to comment with your own (hopefully shorter) list, and have yourself a merry little December 18th.

Potentially Christian America

I think I may have mentioned this in a previous post, but this semester I have been taking a class in the General Epistles, where we have been studying the books of James, 1 Peter, and 1 John. This has been one of the most thought-provoking, applicable classes I have had at Ozark. One of the best things about the class has been the books that we have read for it. One of them that I read about a month and half ago is Resident Aliens by Stanley Hauerwas and William Willimon. I thought the book was great, as one can tell by the frequent highlighting throughout. I had been planning to write a blog post about the book when one day I noticed a book on the New Books spinner in the library. The book is called Death of a Christian Nation by Deborah J. Dewart. After scanning the synopsis on the back cover of the book, I realized that this book may be just about the complete opposite of Resident Aliens, so I thought it would be fun to compare the two.

Both Resident Aliens and Death of a Christian Nation begin with the same issue: America can no longer be considered a Christian nation, or at least is losing its status as a Christian nation. Hauerwas and Willimon use a story of how, in 1963, a movie theater began to be open on Sundays. For these writers, this is evidence of the end of Christian America. They write, "Whether we are with Pentecostals, Catholics, Lutherans, or United Methodists, we meet few young parents, college students, or auto mechanics who believe that one becomes Christian today by simply breathing the air and drinking the water in the generous, hospitable environment of Christendom America" (16). Similarly, Dewart looks at legal cases from the past several decades and concludes, "If modern liberal activists have their way, the phrase God Bless America will ring hollow because our Christian nation will be dead" (6). Both books recognize that American life has changed and that our country is becoming more and more "unchristian." However, the two books respond to this situation is vastly different ways.

But before we get to that, maybe we should ask if the United States was every really a Christian nation in the first place. Many Americans, perhaps even most Americans, would not even question this. They point to the faith of the founding fathers and to the biblical principles that undergird the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. Dewart's first chapter beings, "In the beginning, God blessed America. Christianity was the bedrock of this country." She provides a number of quotations to show that America was Christian from the beginning. For example, she quotes Thomas Jefferson:

And can the liberties of a nation be thought secure when we have removed their only firm basis--a conviction in the minds of the people that these liberties are the fit of God? That they are not to be violated but with His wrath? Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that  God is just: that His justice cannot sleep forever. (4)

It all sounds very good. However, just in the case of Thomas Jefferson, we may need to examine his Christian convictions a little closer. It is not unknown that Jefferson produced his own version of the gospels, in which he removed any hints of miracles, Jesus' divinity, or the resurrection. His version ends thusly: "Now in the place where he was crucified, there was a garden; and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein was man never yet laid. There they laid Jesus. And rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departed." And that's it. We might be able to ask Jefferson whether the doctrines of a faith can be thought secure when we have removed their only firm basis--a conviction that Jesus was God and rose from the dead. What we see in Jefferson (and, though I'm certainly no expert, I would assume we might see in several others among the founding fathers) is a deistic, antisupernatural worldview that discredits a great deal of Scripture and strikes at the heart of Christian faith. Maybe early America wasn't quite as Christian as we have been told. (We might also want to remember that the colonies started a war in large part because they didn't want to pay taxes. Doesn't seem to fit with Rom. 13 very well.)

So then, how do Dewart, Hauerwas, and Willimon deal with all of this? For Dewart, the situation demands that we do everything we can to keep America from losing its Christian identity. She writes:

American Christianity is under attack. From shore to shore, cases are legion. Believers need knowledge. They need to know how fellow Christians are suffering for their faith right here in America. They need to know how current laws impact their ability to apply biblical principles in the workplace. They need to know their Bibles. They need to know where to turn for help. Without this knowledge, our 'Christian' nation will die." (xv)

To Dewart, the greatest danger threatening the contemporary church is that America will cease to be able to call itself a Christian nation. She claims that if this happens, it will severely hamper the church's ability to carry out its mission. She continues, "Moreover, our freedom to preach the gospel is rapidly diminishing, and preservation of that freedom is vital to the church and its mission" (xv, emphasis mine). And, although I have only skimmed Death of a Christian Nation, it seems like Dewart's solution to all of this is that Christian be knowledgeable about their "right" and be able to defend those rights in the public arena.

On the other hand, Hauerwas and Willimon paint a very different picture. They too see that "Christian America" may be eroding. However, instead of making a plea to the church to preserve that system, they see it as a good thing that will allow the church to function as it should. They write, "The demise of the Constantinian world view, the gradual decline of the notion that the church needs some sort of surrounding 'Christian' culture to prop it up and mold its young, is not a death to lament. It is an opportunity to celebrate" (18). This is due to the fact that, when the church and state become wrapped up together, it is typically the church that loses its identity. Instead of the church shaping the state, we find nationalistic ideals molding the church. Instead, the church is called to be "a social alternative that the world cannot on its own terms know" (18). The church stands separate from the state because it is its own entity. We may like to think that, at least in its original condition, American government was buddy-buddy with the church, but this may not be the case. Hauerwas and Willimon write, "The story which comprises American capitalistic, constitutional democracy and the story which elicits the church are in greater conflict than these Christian transformers of culture know" (155). The church functions by its own politic, and it certainly doesn't need the support of the government or judiciary to carry out its God-given mission.

Something we American Christians struggle with is that, our entire lives, we have been so attached to our "rights." We believe that preservation of our rights is required if we are to live the Christian life. However, that doesn't seem to be the image that Jesus gives. Instead, he predicted that all men would hate his followers (Matt. 10:22), and he knew that Christians would be beaten and killed (Mk. 13:9). Meanwhile, we Americans are terrified that our churches might lose their tax-exempt status, or we worry that out workplaces won't let us wear Christian symbols on our jewelry. And yet, in spite of the very unchristian environment of the first-century Roman empire, the church expanded, and what started out as a little mustard seed grew into a tree. For a more recent example, we might look at the church in China, which is growing like crazy even though preachers don't have the politically-sanctioned right to stand on a streetcorner and tell people about Jesus. Oftentimes, it is when the church faces its greatest hardships that it is able to most exemplify what it means to follow Christ and it carries out its mission to the greatest extent. So maybe the loss of Christian America really isn't too bad. Maybe it's just what is needed to help the church be what it was made to be.

What do you think? Is the United States a Christian nation? Is it the church's responsibility to maintain (or recapture) America's Christian identity?

Seeing People

Tomorrow is the last day of class for the semester, and then we have finals next week. I am pretty excited about this fact. I'm sure I've written this before, but finals week is always my favorite week of the semester, and I would not be at all disappointed if this final week was like last semester's, when we played Killball (or as you Northwesterners call it, Smashface) a couple hours every night. It blows my mind when I think about how fast this semester has gone. I think this is because this semester has not had as many "defining aspects" as some of my others semesters--some TV show to watch on the projector with the guys, or some girl to turn me down. These are the markers of my seasons of life, but this semester has probably been more constant. I guess that's what happens when you get older--life begins to meld into some ambiguous blog, and before you know it, you're eating breakfast at Bob Evans when you realize, "Holy moly! I'm an old man!"

I feel like I need a break. (Bear with my complaining for a moment; I promise I'll try to make it redeeming). I was thinking about this a while ago. I feel like I have not really had a true break since maybe last March. Almost as soon as I got out of school in May, I went to Oregon to do my internship there, and then a couple days after I got back, I came back to school. So I spent my entire summer teaching every Sunday morning and organizing events and such, and since then I have been preaching just about every week and trying to keep up with school. It feels like I need to be doing something every moment of the day, and I feel guilty if I even take a short nap or run out to get some Burger King. And I'm tired. I so much long for a week that I can sleep and watch basketball and not have to be concerned with all of the different responsibilities on my plate, and the problem is that I can't foresee that happening anytime in the near future.

But then I read about Jesus, and I realize how petty I can be sometimes. In Matthew 14:13, Jesus learns that John the Baptist has been killed. It's difficult to determine exactly what the relationship between John and Jesus was like, but every indication seems to point to the idea that there was a special bond between them. Understandably, Jesus is upset, so "he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place." For a little while at least, Jesus just wants to get away. For a moment, he tries to get away from the crowds so that he can grieve, but the multitudes aren't easily dodged. Instead, when they see Jesus in the boat, they run to meet him at the opposite shore. That's when Jesus does something that puts me to shame and silences my little complaints. "When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick" (Mt. 14:14).

Jesus had a special ability (understatement) of seeing people. Really seeing them. He perceived their needs, and not only that, but he loved them and had compassion on them. He didn't see them as an obstacle, an interruption, or an annoyance getting in the way of his rest. He saw them as his beloved, so he changed his plans in order to heal and feed them. I can't imagine that. There may not be a time when it is more acceptable to not do ministry than when grieving the death of a loved one, but Jesus continues to serve. How was he able to do this? Because he saw the bustling crowds as people created and loved by God.

Sometimes I stop and ask myself why I should keep going. I look for a reason not to quit. It would be so much easier to just push everything aside and do only what I want to do. In those times, it's imperative that I think about people. I have to make it less about the task and more about the people. If I just focus on my sermon itself and think about all of the research and writing and practicing that lies ahead of me, I feel burdened. But when I think about the people, when I focus on Vernon and Pauline and Bill, I am reminded that there is a reason to it all. Or, when I focus just on my homework and stare blankly at the stack of books on my desk that need reading, I find it difficult to be motivated to do much of anything. But when I turn my attention to how my preparation now will benefit the church I serve in the future, there is a new umph behind my tasks.

There will be times when we feel fatigued and worn down, and we would love nothing more than to crawl into our bed and forget about everything we have ahead of us. There will be times that we are far from home, living in a new community, missing our friends and family, and we would give anything to jump on an airplane and fly back. And there will be times when, after years of ministry, we begin to wonder if our entire lives have been in vain. In those moments, we might just need to step back, take a breath, and look at Jesus, because when we do that, he'll turn our attention to the faces of people. And that just might be the push we need.

Enjoy the Christmas music, Chuck.

Pilgrims and Stoics

Today is Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving for a couple reasons: 1) I like to eat (especially when it involves sweet potatoes, rolls, and pie); 2) I like to watch the Macy's parade; 3) it gives me an excuse to wear my full-body Pilgrim costume. This Thanksgiving season has been especially good in that today, I will be partaking in my fourth Thanksgiving dinner. The fact that so many people have been willing to feed me makes me worry that I'm being fattened up for some sort of human sacrifice, but for now, I'll just enjoy it.

If someone were to ask you today, Are you thankful?", how would you answer? My guess is that you would say "Yes." As we gather around the table covered with turkey and stuffing, we reflect on all of the things we are thankful for--family, friends, shelter, food, freedom, etc. It's relatively easy for us to feel thankful on Thanksgiving. But what if, instead of asking, "Are you thankful?", someone were to ask you, "Are you content?" Would you be answer to answer in the affirmative? The truth is that thankfulness and contentment go hand in hand. They overlap in many ways. And yet, we seem to have a lot more trouble being content than we do being thankful.

Part of our problem in this may be that we misunderstand what contentment is. We carry with us a number of misconceptions of contentment. For example, we might think that contentment can be equated with wealth, but in reality, they may be quite the opposite. In 1 Timothy 6:6-10, contentment is placed alongside warning about wealth. There is a contrast--there are those who are content, and there are those who want to get rich. Just look at our own nation. We live in the most prosperous country the world has ever known, but at the same time, it may be the most discontented. We always want more--bigger houses, nicer cars, more attractive spouses, more products with an Apple logo on them. Our wealth has failed to make us content, and we are often unable to say along with Paul that we are content "whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want" (Phil. 4:12).

Another misunderstanding we may have about contentment is that contentment is self-sufficiency. We might think that being content means we pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps and keep our heads up in any situation, but that we do so by our own power. This is the idea behind the philosophy of Stoicism. Contentment is the essential virtue in Stoicism. Stoics made it their goal to transcend above any sense of need, passion, or desire, but they believe that a person had the ability within themselves to do this. The power came from within.

That is not biblical contentment, because what contentment is is dependence on God. Contentment is the belief that no matter what happens--when bank accounts run dry, cars break down, friends abandon us, our health fails and the milk jug in the fridge is empty--God is still good and takes care of his children. At the same time, when our bank accounts are full, we feel strong as an ox, and life seems to be going well, contentment is the knowledge that our security does not come from these things but from our Father in heaven. Contentment is the realization that most of the things we think we need are things we don't really need at all because all we truly need is God. Last week I ran across a story of a spiritual seeker who went to spend a weekend at a monastery, and as the monk showed the man to his cell, the monk said, "We hope you have a blessed stay with us. If you need anything, just let us know, and we'll teach you how to live without it."

We think we need so much. But truth be told, we don't. We need God, and it's because of his presence in our lives that we are able to be content. After talking about how he is able to be content in any situation, Paul writes, "I can do everything through him who gives me strength." It's not a Stoic independence, but rather the empowerment of Christ, that is able to make Paul content. Similarly, Hebrews 13:5 calls us to be content "because God has said, 'Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.'" We need to remember that God is with us wherever we are and in whatever circumstances, God won't leave us. Paul knew that God was with him when he was in a friend's house enjoying dinner, and he knew that God was with him when he was alone on a damp prison floor. I hope that our thankfulness isn't something that happens only when we have turkey on the table and sweet potatoes in our belly, but that we use this holiday to instill within us an attitude of contentment that continues through the entire year.

And with that, I wish you the happiest Thanksgiving possible. I'm thankful for each of you that read this, and I'm thankful for the encouragements that I get that let me know that there may actually be a reason for me to continue writing. And finally, I'm thankful for each of you who are going to fight the shopping crowds at Black Friday tomorrow just so you can get me a good Christmas present. It's awfully nice of you.

Dancing Is Better Than Poking

Last week, I was privileged to hear Randy Gariss give a lecture on working with a team in ministry. Actually, I guess I was doubly privileged, because two of my professors scheduled him to teach, and it was the same lecture both times. This was a good thing, though, because the second time Randy said something that got me thinking (and I need all the help I can get with that these days). For those of you that don't know, Randy Garris is the preacher at College Heights Christian Church in Joplin, and only though I've only been to College Heights once, I always appreciate the times that I get to hear Randy speak. He definitely one of the wisest men I've come across. Anyways, what Randy said in our class was that today, we are masters of short-term, shallow relationships. He talked about how, a hundred years ago, a person would grow up living in a room (and maybe even sharing a bed) with his siblings, and he would have the same teacher all the way through high school, and there would be one coach for all the sports, and there would be one store in town. Now, however, we have constant relational turnover. If you don't like your teacher, you can get a new one the next semester. This is a symptom of the changes that have occurred in how we relate with one another. We've become experts at small talk and pleasantries, but we don't do so well in establishing enduring, deep relationships.

Randy said that we try to cover up our relational struggles with what he called "classy isolation." We decorate our isolation so that it doesn't look like isolation. Facebook may be a prime example. We spend more time delving into the "social world" of Facebook or other mediums instead of being engaged in flesh-and-blood relationship. And if you know me, you know that I use the word "we" there not just as a writing device, but because I'm probably the worst at this. It's so much easier (and safer) to interact with a typeface and a profile picture than with a person sitting across a table from you. And yet, we think that we are relationally rich when we don't know how to maintain an actual relationship. I can brag about having 574 Facebook friends, but the truth is that only a handful of them know me very well at all.

We want something greater, of course. We really do desire deep, lasting relationships. Last night I saw the new Harry Potter movie. At one point in the movie, things are going very badly, and everyone is depressed. Hermione is sitting by herself listening to the radio when Harry walks over, pulls her to her feet, and begins to dance with her. And while she's reluctant at first, before long they are dancing and smiling and laughing. I thought this scene was beautiful. For one thing, I too love to dance. For another, it was a great picture of the type of relationships we want. In the story, Harry and Hermione have been through an awful lot together, and they have a friendship that many of us long for. They know each other so well and they care and love for each other in a way that is anything but common.

Of course, this relationship is artificial. The scene is designed by a director and film crew. So we could dismiss it as an impossibility--just another glitzed up picture of what we wish for but that is too unrealistic to be attainable. And yet, I hope and believe that the fellowship we possess in Christ is greater than anything that even Hollywood can imagine. Such closeness and love is possible. In fact, in the church, it should be a common feature. At Sunday School this morning at Commerce, the class began reflecting on what it is like to lose a loved one. The congregation is mostly made up of older folks, and in my little class of seven people, four of them had lost a spouse. After they had shared for a while, one of the men, Bill, said, "You know, this isn't something we can talk about just anywhere. Not even with friends. This is the kind of thing that belongs in the church." The church should be where we can enjoy these deep relationships. The church should be where we can talk about our loved ones who have died. The church should be where we dance with each other in adversity. Our fellowship is incomplete when we relegate it only to talking about football at the coffee pot.

The stories of our lives are lacking something when we fail to develop these sorts of deep relationships. Any good epic story is about more than the task to be accomplished; it is about the relationships between the characters. These stories are about more than throwing the ring into the fire, defeating Voldemort, ending the White Witch's reign, blowing up the Death Star, or protecting the island. They are about Frodo and Sam; Harry, Ron, and Hermione; Lucy and Tumnus; Luke and Leia; Jack and Kate. While the tasks are what grab our interests, these relationships are what grab our hearts.

These relationships are forged in adversity. The reason these characters become so close and unceasingly loyal to one another is because they experience so much difficulty together. Maybe one reason that we have trouble developing such relationships is that we do not recognize any sense of adventure in our lives. We need to recapture a sense of "quest." When our lives are just about living comfortably in gated communities and going to work everyday so that we can stay healthy and buy IPod apps, we don't really need other people. We can do that pretty well ourselves. But when we remember that we are in a lifelong struggle "against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms," we realize that we can't do it by ourselves. We need one another because we are fighting an enemy much more real than Voldemort, and we are involved in an epic story that makes all other stories seem soft. So let's put away our classy isolation, and let's dance.

When I started writing this post, I had planned to call out all of you other bloggers, because of the blogs on my sidebar, the only one that had been updated in the past month was Charlie's. However, just a little bit ago, Caitlyn updated hers. But for all the rest of you: write something! Also, I added a couple new links to the side, so be sure to check those out.

She's Just About to Close Up the Library!

If you read this post and sense any sort of rage or brooding anger expressed, it's because right now I'm watching the Steelers getting beat the Patriots. So I apologize in advance. Lucky for you, though, I don't anticipate my subject matter today bring out too much angst. In any case, I'll do my best to keep the obscenities to a minimum.

I recently read a chapter in a book about, well, reading. The book is Spiritual Leadership by J. Oswald Sanders, and it was pretty good, so I thought I would share a little bit. Since I have been at Ozark, I have often heard the saying, "Leaders are readers." (Patriots just scored. Stink.) This is because, on our own, we really aren't that smart. We need the wisdom of those who have gone before us, as well as of our contemporaries. Sanders writes, "Through books we hold communion with the greatest spiritual leaders of the ages" (103). Our lives and ministries become imperiled when we begin to think we have the wits to figure it out apart from the experience of others as communicated through writing. We need to read.

But what should we read? It's worth asking. In our world today, we are faced with an absurd amount of information, and the truth is that we all probably read a lot. In Donald Miller's blog last week, he said that he think people today read more than any other generation in history, but the problem is that we don't read good things. There is so much fluff and drivel out there, and it can be difficult to read with discrimination. For this reason, I definitely think it is important to read actual books. Not that we shouldn't read blogs and such (in fact, I would strongly recommend it. Especially this one.), but in our age of instant amateur publication, books become more valuable due to their editorial process. Of course, many books out there are still full of garbage, but they are hopefully a little more rich than an online post by a stranger detailing the drama of her life.

One of my favorite questions to ask people is, "What have you been reading lately?" I just always think this is very interesting, and that why I stole the idea of having a picture of whatever I'm reading on the sidebar of my blog. I think you can learn more about a person from what they read than you can by their favorite music or movies. As influential as movies and music our in our day, books still have more lasting influence in an individual's personal formation. So, all of you potential commenters: What are you reading? What are some of your favorite books/authors that have had an influence on you?

Looking Up

This post is brought to you from a land far, far away--Indiana. Right now, I'm sitting in a room with Connor and Charlie. We've been talking for a while about the intricacies of the movie The Prestige, and with all of this brain power floating around in one room, I figure it's a good time to write a blog. I started having the idea for this post a couple days ago, and then yesterday we were at a Christian book store when I saw a book by Beth Moore called Looking Up. So I've been beat to the punch by Beth Moore again. Once I was going to write a post called "Feathers from My Nest: A Mother's Reflection," but then she beat me to that one too. She's always one step ahead of me.

I have a bad habit of not looking up when I walk somewhere. Instead, I tend to just look at the ground a few feet in front of me. I've been doing this for a long time. I think that in part, this habit has developed out of a fear of tripping. When I was in first grade, a girl in the after-school program challenged me to a race in which we would jump rope all the way across the gym. I was pretty good at jumping rope, so I was confident I would win. I started off great, but then about halfway through I tripped over the rope and smashed my face into the hardwood. Who knows how good-looking I would be today if that hadn't happened? And so, I look down when I walk. I remember when I was six or seven, I was walking with my dad out of Kroger when he commented on it, so I decided to look up as we were walking to the car, and it was like I saw an entire world that I never before existed. But that is definitely not my natural inclination.

You don't tend to be very popular when you always walk around with your head down. People think you're bitter and unsociable. Which may very well be true, but if you're not like that, I've heard that people will be warmer toward you if you look up and smile. Apparently body language is supposed to communicate. Who knew?

This picture of looking up/down is a good metaphor of how different people approach life. There are some who go through life with their head down, looking at the ground in front of them. There are two effects of such a perspective. First, when you're looking down, you have no reason to think that anything will ever be any different. When I walk with my head down, all I can see are the four feet of sidewalk in front of me. For all I know, that sidewalk just goes on forever. When we go through life with our heads down, we assume that life will go just as it is now. We focus on our present situation and forget that there may be something beyond that. When I was in sixth grade, my Sunday School class used a book called Someone's Making a Monkey Out of You to talk about creation and evolution, and that when I learned the word "uniformitarianism." This is the idea that natural laws have always functioned at the same rate and in the same ways for all time. It stuck with me because it was the fanciest word I knew at the time, and it still may be. In any case, living life with your head down result in a uniformitarian outlook. Because all I can see is what is happening right now, I come to believe that this is what will happen for the rest of my life.

The result of this is fatalism. You come to believe that life has dealt us a certain hand of cards, and that's what you're stuck with. If, at the time, you are pretty happy with your life, and if things are going your way, you become an optimist to a fault. You see those four feet of sidewalk as gold-plated, and you think that it will continue as such forever. When something bad actually does happen, you don't know how to handle it, and your fatalism may swing to the opposite extreme--pessimism. If, as you have your head down, you aren't happy with your life, and all you see in the sidewalk are cracks in the cement with weeds creeping through,  you drag your feet and sulk because you think this is how it will be forever. And before long, no one wants to hang out with you because all you do is complain about your life and try to bring everyone else down in an effort to somehow make yourself feel better.

All of this is related to the second effect of walking with your head down: you limit your ability to choose an alternate course. If all I see are the four feet of sidewalk in front of me, I don't have very many options of where I'm going. I can keep walking down the sidewalk, or I could turn around and go back maybe. But that's about it. I don't see any other paths to take. As a result, I never change or grow. I stay the same year after year, never realizing that I have the power to determine where I go.

The alternative to all of this, of course, is to walk with your head up. When you do this, the effects I mentioned earlier are reversed. No longer are you confined to believing that all of life is the sidewalk. You see trees and buildings and other sidewalks, and you realize that life actually can change. Things may not always stay the same. There is more out there than your present situation. Maybe that's why, when a friend is have a tough time, we say things like, "Chin up, Champ!" or "Keep your head." In those times, we need to know that there is something more out there, that the crap we deal with no won't last forever.

When we live with our heads up, we also open ourselves up to innumerable possibilities of action. We see that we don't have to walk down the same sidewalk forever, but we can go all sorts of places. Maybe I'll choose to go down the stairs to the right, or maybe I'll go in that building, or maybe all just run through the grass. I'm no longer locked into the same path. Instead, I see multiple possible futures, and I have the ability to choose where I'll go. I can enact change in my own life. So if I don't like something about my life as it is, I can take steps to change it. In another year or two, I might not be quite the same as I am now. I become a round character in my story instead of a flat one.

So, my encouragement to you is this: Look up. Don't get caught up so much in your present situation that you forget that there is more out there, and we have the power to go take hold of it. Granted, this means that we may at times trip and fall on our faces, but we pick ourselves back up and keep going. The ability to live a worthwhile story depends so much on vision, and we need to pick our heads up and see what's out there.

There is a guy who used to go to Ozark who is really good at film and cinematography and such. Recently, I watched a video he made about a person who writes a blog. I'm going to ruin the ending for you if you keep reading this, so be prepared. But in the short movie, the blogger is struggling to come up with something new to write about, so she goes to a little motel in the middle of nowhere and starts murdering people. Yikes. Who knew writer's block could be so lethal?

Rolled around in Charlie's Grand Am last night listening to Flobots. I've missed that.

Is It Worth It?

Don't you hate it when you work pretty hard on something and then the end product doesn't seem like it was worth all the trouble? Last year in my Strategies for Teaching class, I had to make a model in a box of a Sunday School classroom. This isn't my kind of assignment. I can write research papers or give presentations, but please don't ask me to do anything artsy-craftsy. I spent hours cutting construction paper and shaping pipe cleaners, trying to make miniature tables and chairs. And when it was all said and done....my model looked like a kindergartner had made it. It's just not the sort of thing I'm good at. So I turned it in, and when I got it back later, I carried it directly to the dumpster in front of my dorm. My hard work just wasn't enough to make a very good model.

At times, I think we can feel the same way when we do other things too. For example, I feel like I work pretty hard at school, but it can be hard to see what I gain from that. People could say, "Well, it helps your grades," but those are really just letters on paper. Sometimes I wonder if my life would really be any worse if I didn't work as hard, and I'm not sure that it would be. Actually, it would probably be better in a lot of ways. We can feel the same way in ministry, too. We might work hard for hours and days; we may stay up late into the night in order to serve those under our care, and it seems like nothing ever changes. We could dig into research and pour ourselves into our sermons, but our listeners still zone out. We might dedicate years to pastoring a congregation, but that church never grows and never acts like it really wants to. Today I was with my friend Sy, and he said that sometimes it can feel like you prepare a gourmet meal, but everyone just nibbles at it.

And that's a frustrating feeling. We wonder why we should keep at it. Maybe it would be better if we didn't care so much. If we put up a little less effort. Is it really worth it?

I don't think there are many easy answers to these questions. It may be that our response is simply to remain faithful. We continue working hard because we believe that God will do something with it. We stick with what is correct even when it feels like it isn't. That's what faith is, in a sense. It means that we don't just quit when it seems like our effort is without result. We believe that God will bring about fruit when we remain faithful and serve him with what we have. I have heard people say that our goal as Christian leaders should not be to be effective, but to be faithful, and I think that is a good way to think of things. We do the best we can, and we trust God to do something with it.

In my last post, I had a contest, looking for suggestions on how I can increase readership of my blog. Only two people commented, which shows me how important these ideas may be, but it also shows me that it might be a lost cause anyway. In any case, I've decided that Charlie wins the contest for two reasons: 1) He gave a wide array of ideas (none of which will probably happen) and 2) Caitlyn doesn't like Taco Bell, so there is little use in me buying her a taco.

So tomorrow is Halloween. Today, I know of four of my friends that dressed up as geeks. I'm not sure if I should be honored or offended that people use Halloween to look the way I look every day.

I read a story today about a guy who has been the first person to gain 500,000 achievement points on XBox 360. I don't really know what that means, other than that this guy plays a heck of a lot of video games. You can see the story here. Now, I assume that the picture with the story is this guy and his girlfriend. And my question is this: How the heck did a guy who has spent the last five years playing video games for that many hours get a girlfriend that looks like that?! And people wonder why I'm cynical.

Super-Senior Lessons

For the last 15 minutes or so, I have been sitting at my computer agonizing over what I should write about. I want to write something funny, but not pessimistic, and that is a very hard line for me to walk. I'll try my best to make this post fit the bill. However, I've already ruined it. Here's an important principle to remember in all of your social interactions: Never begin a story with "Here's a funny story..." or a statement with "Here's something interesting...". You're only setting yourself up for failure. If you preface your anecdote with a promise of humor, you create an expectation for laughs, and if the story proves to not be funny, you only leave your listeners disappointed. Instead of introducing a story with something like that, just begin your story. That is all just a free tip from your friend David.

So I guess instead of writing the previous paragraph, I should have just written: "Here's a post. Read it."

I'm getting old. This year is my fifth and last one at Ozark, which means I have been here longer that just about everyone. Most the the students I came in with as bright-eyed freshmen have left and are doing all sorts of things all over the place, but I'm still sitting at the same desk I have had since 2006, with the same posters on my wall. Really the only thing that has changed is that I have a roommate who doesn't mysteriously disappear when it's time to clean the room for room checks. We are already halfway through the fall semester, and now that I have a good amount of my fifth year under my belt, I thought I would share a few lessons I have learned about what it means to be a super-senior.

1. You get slow and out of shape
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I was ever freakishly fast, as I am not the posterchild for athleticism (as much as a surprise that might seem to many of you). Nevertheless, I did come to the realization that my prime days might be behind me during intramural frisbee season this year. I have been playing with basically the same team for the past three years. The season started off great. We won our first game on a clutch score near the end of the game, and we were riding high with visions of frisbee domination for the rest of the season. Unfortunately, that was the last game we won. Not only did we lose all the rest of our games; we were decimated in ever facet of the game. What we finally concluded was that, while other teams recruited freshmen and sophomores, we had remained the same. So while everyone else got younger and faster, we got older and slower. The result? An already fragile ego being smashed to bits. Thankfully, intramural season started last night. Let's go Stoop Kids! 1-0, baby!

2. You're not as influential as you think you should be
When you're in high school, everyone knows that the seniors run the school. They are the ones who have been their longest, and they have, well, seniority. They are the ones who set the tone for the year. But that isn't how it works at a college like Ozark. The truth is that the freshmen and sophomores steer the ship in many ways. For one thing, there are just so many of them, and for another, so many of the older students have bailed out and now live off campus. Of course, maybe these reasons are just an illusion, and the true reason is that I'm to passive and apathetic to have more of an influence, but I don't really care to find out for sure.

3. Your weekends are spent attending weddings
I remember when I used to spend my Saturdays doing things I really wanted to do--sleeping in, watching movies, taking a nap, shooting stuff with Nerf guns. These days, however, weekends mean that I actually have to take a shower, because they mean that I have to go watch someone get married. This weekend I will be attending my third wedding of the semester, and as much as I love to put on a tie and dance the night away, I do miss college football.

4. Your romantic life is probably over
While I am on the topic of weddings, let me share with you some information that my roommate Ryan was kind enough to read to me right before I went to bed a couple weeks ago. In their book Creating a Successful Christian Marriage, Cleveland McDonald and Philip M. McDonald write this about Christian colleges:

There is no better place for a young person to find a mate with similar beliefs, goals, and values; and a multitude of happy Christian marriages have resulted from courtships on Christian campuses. If a man or woman leaves the campus without a mate or prospective mate, he or she will never again have such a wide selection of possible mate choices. There may be eligible bachelors and single women back home in the local church, but the opportunities will be much fewer than they are on campus. (119)

The McDonald brothers(?) go on to write that many students do not date because they are shy [insert: they sit in their rooms and write blogs instead of speaking to actual human beings], and that they need the Holy Spirit's help to overcome their undeveloped social skills. I certainly don't want to undervalue the work of the Holy Spirit, but it sounds like the McDonalds are telling people like me that once we get to May and are still single, it's going to take a miracle to change that. Or, I guess I could get a tattoo of a cross on my arm. I heard that works.

5. You're not as fun as you used to be
Like I said before, I did all kinds of fun things my first couple years at Ozark. Ryan and I often reminisce about how, our first semester, we went to the student center after lunch every day and played a few games of pool with Charlie. It felt like, in those early days, I was always playing games and ordering pizza and going on late-night food runs. Here are some statistics that help illustrate the change: so far this year, I have played ping-pong twice; I have played basketball once; I have played cards once; I have watched one movie on our projector; and I have not played pool at all. Somehow, I have gotten so serious about things these days, and I miss the days when I didn't feel like I needed to work as hard and when I laughed more. Before long, I'll be one of those crotchety old men at the nursing home, and some kid will ask me to play checkers with him, and I'll tell him no because I would rather....do whatever crotchety old men do. Think about broken hips or something.

6. You're expected to have some sort of handle on life
On an almost daily basis, I ask Ryan, "What are we doing with our lives?!" It seems like the closer I get to graduation, the less able I am to answer this question. A few years ago, I had it all figured out--I would graduate and then look for a year-long youth ministry internship, and then after that I would look for a youth ministry at a mid-sized church in the Northwest. Nowadays, the answer is much more vague, and is something like, "Well, I might go to seminary....if I can afford it....but if I can't....I guess I'll do.....something....." Since I was a freshman in high school, I pretty well had the next stage planned out, but now that I am getting closer to another transition, I am on less secure ground, and that is a scary thought. That's why I occasionally make a threat to just work at Domino's. I do love pizza, after all.

CHECK THIS OUT!! YOU COULD WIN!!
So I've been trying to think of ways to increase the readership of this blog, because I feel like not a lot has changed in a long time, and I'm never going to be offered a book deal at this rate. I suppose the best way to get more readers would be to write more posts worth reading, but that sounds like more work for me. And so, I propose a contest (which is in itself a way to increase readership): Leave a comment and give me a creative suggestion on how to increase readership, and whichever idea I like best, I will buy that person a taco or something.

Small Prayers and Small Faith

My favorite class this semester has been my General Epistles class. In the class, we're studying the books of James, 1 Peter, and 1 John. It isn't like most of the exegetical classes I have taken at Ozark. It's very laid-back and application-centered. It seems like every few minutes, my professor, Doug Welch, asks, "So what does this mean for how we live in the church?" Our goal is not just to discover what the biblical writers were saying to the first-century audience, but also to find what God is saying to the contemporary Christian church through them. In order to do this, one of our assignments is to give a short oral presentation about what each particular epistle says about some ministry in the church. A couple weeks ago, my friend Kylie gave a presentation on what James says about prayer, and it got me thinking about a few things.

I don't pray very well, and I've written about that before. I do believe that it is an area I have grown in a lot over the past year, but when I look at the E.M. Boundses and Brother Lawerences of the world, I see that I still have a long way to go. In James, we see how closely prayer is related to faith, which suggests that my faith is not where it should be because my prayers aren't where they should be. For example, in James 5:14-16, James instructs the sick to call for the elders so that they can come and anoint them with oil and pray for their healing, and he writes, "And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up." Of course, praying for the sick is a common (and good) practice today, but how often do we honestly believe that our prayers will be answered in miraculous ways? Kylie pointed out that when we pray for the sick, we often say something like, "God, please help Grandma Biddy and heal her of her sickness, but we just pray that your will be done." It's like we work an escape clause into our request. We're afraid that God won't heal Gradma Biddy, so we use a vague request that God's will be done as a safety net. Then, no matter what, our prayer is answered as we asked--if God heals Grandma Biddy, that's great, but if he doesn't, then that must mean it wasn't his will. (Granted, Jesus instructs us to pray that God's will be done [Matt. 6:10], but I don't think he meant this as a way to "back him up" so that he doesn't fail in answering our requests.) Not only that, but we often don't even pray that God will directly heal a person, but instead we pray, "God, please be with the doctors and work through them to bring about healing." As if the God who gave sight to the blind and raised the dead is unable to cure a case of cancer on his own.

All of this is a demonstration on how we format our prayers to insure that God doesn't "fail." We're not sure how to deal with it if we pray big and bold and God doesn't come through, so the safe thing to do is to pray for something that will happen anyway. Many people, when they pray before a meal, will say something like "And please bless this food and let it nourish our bodies." Is this much of a prayer? Isn't food designed to nourish us? Am I praying in faith when I say, "Let this ham sandwich give me energy for the next few hours"?  I certainly don't mean to criticize those who pray like this, because since I can remember, I have prayed that same thing before every meal. There has to be something more powerful and significant about prayer, though.

Again, it all relates to faith. Do we really believe that God will answer our prayers. In James 5:17-18, James references Elijah, who was "a man just like us" who prayed that it wouldn't rain, and so it didn't rain for three and a half years. Then he prayed that the drought would end, and down came the rain. That kind of prayer is a lot different than me asking for my dinner to do what it does anyway. Elijah prays a prayer that changes things; I often pray prayers that maintain the natural order. Instead of having faith and then pulling up my prayers to match that faith, I end up pulling my faith down to match my petty requests. If I could pose the issue in a way that makes sense to all you World of Warcraft fans out there: if I have a Level 8 faith but am making Level 3 requests, I make my faith a Level 3 instead of making Level 8 requests.

When James is writing about how the unwise person should ask God for wisdom, he writes, "But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the win. That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does" (Jas. 1:6-8). We need to be praying prayers that stretch our faith, not ones that shrivel it up. So let's boldly and unapologetically offer "big prayers" to God. Let's pray for things that will require for God to actually act. "You do not have, because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures" (4:2b-3). We shouldn't ask for things out of selfishness and personal prosperity (cars, money, popularity, etc.) but we shouldn't be afraid to ask God for things that seem impossible or crazy, remembering that he is the Father who loves to give good gifts (Matt. 7:11).

Is this a scary proposition? I think so. We become afraid that, if we pray big and God doesn't answer how we want, then our faith will suffer. But we need to learn to continue to pray boldly, not being deterred just because we can't see what God is doing (Lk. 18:1-8). Unanswered prayer doesn't need to damage our faith, and it shouldn't be an excuse to water down our prayers.

This last Sunday, Mark Driscoll preached a pretty good sermon on prayer, so if you have 55 minutes to spare, you should get it on its podcast and check it out.

Unrelatedly, today I heard a song on the radio by Bruno Mars called "Just the Way You Are." It's all about how he thinks that the girl he's singing to is beautiful just the way she is. She sometimes doesn't feel like she is, but he loves her just as she is. How nice of you, Bruno Mars. As I was listening to the song, I became curious about something, so I went and watched the music video on Youtube, and my suspicions were confirmed. The girl in the video is very attractive. Not just to Bruno Mars--any single guy would probably jump at the chance to spend time with her. I feel like the point of the song would be better communicated if the actress in the video didn't look like a model. Of course  you don't want her to change when she looks like that, Bruno. They should have casted a woman that was a little more "normal" looking: maybe a little pudgy, with slightly crooked teeth and and oddly shaped nose. But I guess that's why no one hires me to direct music videos.

Today (Wednesday) is the first time that the Cincinnati Reds will play in a postseason game since I was seven. I hope you're all as excited as I am.

Rabble-Rouser

The days are just packed.

That is the title of one of the books filled with Calvin and Hobbes comic strips. Calvin and Hobbes is definitely my favorite comic. Just thinking about it makes me feel a little bit better about life in general. That title is how I feel about this semester (and about every semester, now that I think about it). I'm already in my fifth week of the year at Ozark, and as always, I feel overworked and stressed out. If I were honest with myself, however, I would admit that my problem is not that I'm too busy, but that I'm lazy and I waste a lot of time sitting around doing nothing productive. But I'm not that honest. I'm all about pinning my problems on external circumstances. One cool thing about this semester is that I have been preaching every week at First Christian Church in Commerce, Oklahoma. The church is basically made up of twenty senior citizens, so it's been pretty interesting. I'm learning that working with senior citizens really isn't that different than working with middle school students, so it's a good thing I have all of that youth ministry experience.

I have been reading through the book of Acts recently. Acts is one of my favorite books in the Bible. As I have been reading, I have noticed how trouble seemed to follow the apostles wherever they went. It's very obvious in the ministry of Paul--he goes to one city, preaches for a while until people start getting made at him and try to kill him, and then he goes to another city and does the whole thing over again. This is one of the major themes of Acts, of course. The church is persecuted, as Jesus himself promised it would be (Jn. 15:20). Paul lists out all of his trials in 2 Corinthians 11:23-29, and it's a pretty extensive list. So we see that wherever Paul went, he had opponents who carried out their resistance in aggressive ways. It was easy to tell where Paul was. All you had to do was follow the riots and shouting masses of people with rocks in their hands.

We live in much more civilized times now, however. The American church doesn't face persecution the way that the first-century church did. People are flooding the streets in search of preachers to kick out of town.
Why is that? Why is it now more or less socially acceptable to be a Christian? Why are people okay with the fact that we're part of a faith that gets people killed in other places and times?

In part, the answer to this question is that times have changed, and our culture is very different from the one Paul ministered in. We live in a nation with Christian roots, and the last time I checked, attempting to stone somebody is frowned upon. However, I do think there is another reason why our faith does not seem to cause the same sort of ruckus that Paul's did, and that may be that we are not living it out in as radical of a manner. People did not drag Paul before the city officials because he was keeping to himself and living a quiet life, being sure not to upset anyone with what he was doing. They did it because he was in the synagogues and in the streets unabashedly telling people about Jesus.

I feel like I'm am generally liked by other people. I'm not aware of anyone that I really tick off very often, even though I am pretty sarcastic and can be a bit of a jerk. I certainly don't have anyone that wants to beat me up. The closest I ever got to being in a fight was when I was seven years old or so, and I was in one of those giant ball pits at the Discovery Zone when I accidentally crawled over the top of a kid who was buried in all the balls. He stood up and was pretty heated about the incident, but he was a bit bigger than me, and I am the most passive person I know. So I left before things got ugly. For me. I'm sure he would've been fine.

Maybe my life should bother other people more, though. Maybe I should be living in a way that makes people upset. Not because I am mean or hateful or anything like that, but because I boldly proclaim the gospel and follow Christ in a lifestyle that stands opposed to the ways of the world. Because I love those whom the world has deemed unlovable. Because I live like I and those around me are going to be judged. Because I don't keep Jesus to myself as a personal matter of faith but present him to everyone I come into contact with as the Savior whom they need.

People can take all of this too far, of course. There are some Christians who hear Jesus' words about how the world will hate them and use it as an excuse to be unloving, abrasive, and obnoxious. They seek out conflict so that they can brag to others how they have suffered in Jesus' name. They wear their self-induced martyrdom like a badge of spiritual superiority. So please, don't be like that. It's unnecessary, anyways. When we live the way that Christ prescribed for us and that Paul modeled, the unbelieving world around us will take offense.

When I started writing this post, I suddenly became very tired and was hit with a narcoleptic-like attack. So I'm sorry if this one isn't my best. I feel like I owe you a good post, you know? You have been waiting anxiously for over two weeks, after all.

Rule-Keeping and Transformation

I'm in a familiar place right now--at the same desk I've used for the past four years in my dorm room while Five Iron Frenzy plays on my stereo, sitting down to write a long-awaited blog post while most other people are out carousing and engaging in the beginning-of-the-year ritual of scoping out the freshmen girls. I decided that I'm too old and creepy to partake this year. Besides, I can do basically the same thing on facebook while I write, all from the comfort of my own room. Like I said, I'm getting way to creepy.

I really like the Bible. Which is a good thing, because if I didn't, I probably wouldn't enjoy Ozark very much. We're all about the Bible. I know, however ,that there are many people in the world who do not like the Bible like I do. There are a lot of reasons for this, of course, but I think that one of the main ones is that they see the Bible as a giant 1142 page rulebook (if you have the Zondervan thinline edition, like me). They think that Genesis begins with "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, and he said, "Don't track mud into the church building." And then at the end of Revelation: "Then Jesus came back and said, "Now I can keep a better eye on you, so you'd really better not mess up. Amen."

I wouldn't like a Bible like that, and I don't think I would like a Christianity that functioned like that. I don't think Jesus would like it, either. In his day, the Pharisees put a lot of emphasis on outward rule-keeping without seeming to care much about the inner state of the heart. They were zealous about ceremony and washing and sabbatical minutiae, but they paid little attention to whether or not a person's character was reflecting that of God. And there was not a group of people that takes more heat from Jesus than the Pharisees. Jesus said that they "clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence" (Mt. 23:25). He also called them "whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean" (Mt. 23:27). Harsher words than you find in your normal Palestinian clown-session.

Sadly, many today, both within and outside of the church, approach Christianity in the same way as the Pharisees understood Judaism. The first priority is being sure to strictly follow all of the commands in the Bible, plus some more that we throw on top for good measure. The Christian life means that we work really hard to clean ourselves up and get our acts together. Discipleship means crossing all our t's and dotting all our i's. This is how we get God to like us; this is how we prove to the world that they should be Christians too--by keeping the rules.

The problem with this mindset of rule-keeping is that same as it was for the Pharisees. We end up washing the part of the dish everyone sees but leaving dirt on the parts they eat from. We splash white paint on the outside when we're full of dead things inside. Jesus seems to have been much more concerned with the inner state of people than how good they looked on the outside. He knew that we can have really clean hands but still hold on to a collection of vices that "come from inside and make a man 'unclean'" (Mk. 7:23). He knew that abstaining from adultery (outward rule) wasn't that impressive if we were still lustful (Mt. 5:27-30). He knew that not murdering (outward rule) isn't the main issue when we are still angry people (Mt. 5:21-22).

What needs to change, then, is our self, not just our behavior. Who we really are--our inner thoughts and attitudes, our being--this is the problem. A rule-keeper doesn't see this. He believes that the aim of Christianity is first and foremost behavior. The biblical picture, however, is that our inner being must first be transformed. Not that behavior is unimportant, but that behavior is a result, not the aim. Our actions are an outflow from our new, transformed nature. Christ changes us from the inside out, but rule-keepers focus only on the "out."

There are many passages in the New Testament that speak of how we should behave. However, in many of those passages, behavior is not isolated as its own subject, but is rather linked with discussion with transformation. A believer's new identity is Christ is the impetus for a new lifestyle. So Paul does not write, "Now remember kids, don't sin! You can do it if you try really hard!" Instead, he writes, "We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?" (Rom. 6:2b). Here are a few other examples of how Paul shows how holy behavior begins with inner transformation:

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature..." (Col. 3:1-5)

You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. Therefore each of you must put off falsehood..." (Eph. 4:22-25)

Since you died with Christ to the basic principles of this world, why, as though you still belonged to it, do you submit to its rules: 'Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!'?" (Col. 2:20-21)

Over and over again, the New Testament seems to say, "You are made new in Christ, so live like it." But the newness comes first. Our nature is different; we are not who we once were. And because of that, we don't act like we once did. Transformation enables obedience. Obedience doesn't stand alone.

Many times, a question arises in the church about whether or not morality should be legislated. In our culture, this discussion usually focuses around the hotbutton issues of abortion and homosexual marriage. Understandably. many Christians are against these actions and adamantly push for legislation to enforce Christian ideals. They think that, if we can keep homosexuals from getting married and can stop women from getting abortions, then we have won, and we can high-five each other and run into the locker room and starting popping open bottles of champagne. I think there is a problem with such a view of this issue because it still only focuses on behavior. If conservative action wins out, the root of the problem hasn't disappeared. The truth is that homosexuals do not need to be unmarried, and women do not need to give birth. All of them do need Jesus, however, because only he can save them and transform their lives from the inside. Laws can only change what happens outwardly, but Christ changes the heart. Now, don't misunderstand me. I am against abortion and gay marriage, but not just because of behavioral implications. I support legislation that stands against these actions, but I do so because I believe it creates a society where more people can hear accurately about Jesus. And he's what they really need.

Sixteen days until National Elephant Day. I hope you're all as excited as I am.

Northwest

Today is bittersweet. I hesitate in using that word because I feel it is greatly overused. Whenever a season of life ends in a person's life, they talk about how bittersweet it is. It's becoming cliche. Surely there is another word that we can use. However, I just typed in "bittersweet" in thesaurus.com, but it didn't give me anything. It seems like I'm forced to conform in my word choice. But I digress.

The reason that today is bittersweet is that this is my last day in Oregon. For the past twelve weeks, I have been in Corvallis while doing a youth ministry internship with Suburban Christian Church. It has been a fantastic summer, and while I am excited to spend a day at home in Topeka and then to head back to Ozark on Saturday, I am going to miss Oregon a lot. All of which got me thinking: What are some things that I have missed about home while I have been in Oregon, and what are going to be some things I'll miss about Oregon after I leave? I now present those lists for your enjoyment and personal betterment.

What I Have Missed Most About Topeka and Ozark

• NOT having to cook for myself. I can only handle so much Hamburger Helper and ham sandwiches. I never thought I would say this, but I miss the Ozark dining hall. This only makes the need for me to rapidly find a wife who can cook that much more urgent.
• Going bowling every Monday. I'll advertise it again: I need new bowling friends for this year. You need to be good, but not good enough to beat me. Caitlyn Lippitt, you will be sorely missed.
• Driving a car with an automatic transmission. I'm an unsafe driver as it is. I don't need to be worrying about making the car run.
• Playing basketball in a gym. I'm awful on the rim at the park that I've gone to here. As surprising as it may sound, I'm not much of a streetballer in Topeka.
• Chick-fil-A, Sonic, Spangle's, Buffalo Wild Wings, and Cheddar's.
• The Dictionary of Biblical Imagery. Not only does the library have a few copies, but I've got my own!
• Watching ESPN. Here the Reds are having an awesome season for the first time since I can remember, and I haven't been able to watch the magic.

 What I Will Miss Most About Oregon

• Mountains. Sorry Topeka, but Burnett's Mound isn't quite the same.
• Being outside in weather that is NOT 98 degrees and 80% humidity. I only want to get nasty and sweaty when I'm actually active. Not when I'm just sitting on a bench.
• Jeff's awesome projector and giant screen. It's way better than the projector in my dorm room, which was made around 1949.
• Wilderness expeditions to Smith Rock or the river near Sweet Home. Anything that helps me feel a little bit less like a wimp is a good thing. I'll be on my own survival show in no time.
• Reading at the riverfront park near downtown Corvallis. (See bullet point #2).
• Being able to say "Yeah, I live in Oregon," and feeling like I am somehow hipper and more culturally aware than other people.
• All of the incredible people I have gotten to rub shoulders with at Suburban. I can't wait until they do their next youth retreat in Missouri.

I feel like after a summer like this one, I should at least include something meaningful in order to redeem this post. So here are a few lessons I've learned and some things that I have been thinking about through this experience:

God comes through.
After my first day of working at Suburban, I went back to the house I was staying at, sat in a chair, and wondered if I had made a mistake. Just a few days previously, I had been in Joplin saying good-bye to many of my closest friends. Now I was on the other side of the country in a new situation, and I knew next to nobody in the entire state. Honestly, at the moment I wanted nothing more than to be back at school, where I was comfortable and knew what I was doing. At the same time, I knew that if I had made a mistake in coming to Corvallis, it was too late to go back. I was stuck, and I started counting down the time until August 19th when I would head back to my haven in the midwest.


But when God wants you somewhere, and when he has a specific work for you to do, he makes sure it works out. I really believe that, if I were going to come to the northwest for a summer, God placed me in an ideal situation. So many people at Suburban did so much to make sure that I had what I needed and that I felt welcome. I know that there are a ton of great churches in the area, but Suburban was the right fit for me. It was definitely difficult at first, and I felt very distant from everything and everyone that I care about, but over time I came to realize that I was where God wanted me and that I hadn't made a mistake. He does a pretty good job of making things work out.

There are great people everywhere.
Sometimes I think that people at Ozark are better than the rest of humanity. That sounds terrible when I put words to that idea, but it is a thought that lies hidden in my mind, I think. I tend to believe that we are somehow a step ahead of everyone else. Only we know how ministry should really work. Only we know how to interpret the Bible correctly. Only we know what God is really like. We're an elite crew, and people who aren't directly connected with us are somehow disadvantaged. They're to be pitied, really, and it's our job to go out their and save them.



This summer, however, I was constantly around phenomenal people of God. The quality of the people Suburban has working with youth is out of control. These are people who serve faithfully and give sacrificially for God and for the students. I look up to all of our youth staff. Not just in the sense that I sort of respect them and think that they are pretty decent folks. I wish that I were more like them, and I think that just about all of them are better at working with youth than I am. (I let you decide which of them I don't think that about!) This summer was another reminder about how big and beautiful the church really is and that there are an insane number of people all over the country and all over the world who are being used by God in incredible ways for his kingdom. And a few of them have never even visited Ozark.

I'm sure (or at least I hope) that there are many other things I've learned this summer, but I think I need a few weeks to process some of those, so maybe I'll share them with you when they are at least half-grown. I have been greatly privileged this summer to work with such amazing people and such awesome students, and I hope that it isn't too long before I get to come back. I'm especially grateful to Jamey for teaching me and putting up with me, to Jeff for putting a roof over my head and a mattress under my sleeping self, and to Angie for getting me hooked up with the internship and with a set of wheels. I am anxious to head home though. I don't know if I can say that I'm happy or sad about going back. But I am ready, and I'm excited to see what the new semester has for me. Let's hope it's a future wife that likes to cook and has a nice movie projector.

Here's some of my favorite pictures from the summer. For all of you who, when you were a kid, skipped over all the words in the books just to look at the pictures. And I'm sorry for the weird spacing in this post. Blogger is throwing a fit.