It's been almost two months since I moved to Cincinnati, Ohio to begin my life as an adult. Since then, there have been many ham sandwiches eaten, many wrong turns while driving, and many beds wet. Today I thought that I would share with you all a few of the lessons that I have learned from the experience so far:
1. Independence is overrated
Usually sometime during one's high school years, he begins to develop an itch to get out on his own. He believes that he doesn't need anyone else and that he can take care of himself, thankyouverymuch. So he anxiously counts down the days until he is free from his parent's care and lives in his own apartment.
That kid is wrong.
Living the adult life isn't all it's cracked up to be, especially when compared to simpler days. Being an adult brings with it a million added responsibilities, and dealing with those responsibilities requires time, money, and energy. You quickly begin to miss the days when someone else would cook your dinner and clean your bathroom and do your laundry. Independent living isn't all late-night parties and pretty girls coming over to play gin rummy with you. So if you still live at home, or if you live in a college dorm or something like that, don't take it for granted, and stay there as long as you can. You might want to consider building a secret nest in the attic or air duct system so that you can start living there before they kick you out.
2. Everyone wants your money
When I was growing up, my dad would always tell me, "Nothing is free." And he was right. When you're out on your own, people assume that you have some money, and everyone wants a piece of it. I don't know how many "deposits" I have had to pay to different companies since I've been here: deposits for my apartment, deposits to the energy company, deposits to the water company, deposits to the guy that sits outside and threatens to throw eggs at my car unless I pay up. I feel like a pile of birdseed, and one by one birds fly down and take a few bites out of me.
3. You can live twenty feet from people and not know them
The student body at my college was the greatest community I have ever been a part of. It was easy to get to know people. I lived on a dorm floor with twenty other guys, and even though I wasn't the best of friends with all of them, we at least knew each other and could hang out. And we would be in classes together and eat together and play basketball together. When you live in an apartment, however, it's completely different. You might think that it would be sort of similar, but that's not the case at all.
There are eight apartments in my building, and they are all packed pretty closely to each other. From my door, I am only a few steps from each of the other apartments. But even so, in the last two months I have seen only three of my neighbors. I know more people than that live here, but I have never even laid eyes on most of them. Even the ones I have met, I see rarely. There is one woman that I met when I moved in, and sometimes I see her outside with her dogs, but that's it. Then there is a guy that I met while doing laundry my second week here, but I haven't seen him since. And there is a woman in the apartment next to me who I met when she was moving in a few weeks ago, but once again, that's the last I've seen of her.
An apartment building isn't like a dorm because people do not leave their doors hanging open while they're home. They walk in, unlock their door, go inside, and lock it behind them. And it would be a little awkward for me to go knocking on each door saying, "Hello there!" So really the only way to meet neighbors is to happen to be coming home or leaving at the same time as them.
I'm saying all of this to simply point out that density of people does not mean that relationships happen. It is possible for a person to live in the middle of a crowded city and to still be isolated.
4. Women don't get masters degrees in Biblical Studies
Last year my roommate was taking a class called "Principles of Family Living." In that class, he had to read a book about Christian marriage. One night, right before I went to bed, he read me an excerpt from that book. In essence, it said that a Christian college is the best place for a believer to find a spouse, and that if you graduate such a college without having done so, you're basically out of luck for the rest of your life. Not a very pleasant thought to have rolling around in your head as you try to go to sleep.
Sadly, the book seems to have been right in some respects. Seminary is a different type of thing than Bible college. Bible colleges are full of nice single girls who are there for a variety of reasons. But they don't often go to seminary and pay tons of money to study Bible, knowing that it's hard enough to find a ministry in a church as it is. The result? My classes are basically all filled with guys. And I don't even have a pretty bankteller to go hit on anymore.
5. Things work out
So far, this post has been a bit of a downer. I apologize for that. And this last point is not necessarily a lesson I have learned in the last two months. It's more of a lesson I have learned from past experiences, as well as a trust that it will prove true in the present one as well. Things work out. Sometimes life seems difficult, and you have little money, few friends, and no opportunity to use the pick-up lines you've been developing for months. But it often just takes time. Going to a new place is never easy, and at first you might want to turn around and go back to where you came from. But after some time, you adjust and begin to build a new life. That's part of growing up, I suppose. So don't shrink away from the unknown future or new situations. Hang in there for the tough parts so that you can get to the goodness on the other side.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
Getting in the Way of Love
Today is a first here at A Chicken in a Cage with a Ferret in that I am having a guest blogger for the first time. Today's post comes from my friend Katie. She's a great writer and is basically a genius, and I figure my readers deserve to enjoy a good post every once in a while. Plus, she's writing on loving people, and you don't want me to write about that, because I really suck at it. Be sure to check out and follow Katie's blog here.
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For the past couple of weeks I've been thinking a lot of what it takes in loving people. Or more accurately, I've been struggling in loving people in the way that God commands. One of my first thoughts when it comes to love is 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."
I don’t know about you, but I’m a really big fan of love. It sounds like a real good deal to me, but what I have seen in the people around me, as well as in myself is that in our attempts to love others, we muddle it up. It’s not that we don’t know what love is. I think the passage in 1 Corinthians sums it up well, and Jesus gave us a great picture of what it looks like to live it out. I think often our problem is that we fail to recognize the barriers that keep us from genuinely loving the people around us. Whether it be from our own insecurities, selfish desires or cultural expectations.
Loving people is important. In the gospels, when Jesus is asked what the greatest commandment is, his reply is pretty straight forward: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'"
But here's where I screw it up: The bit about loving our neighbors as yourself? Well, I sure like my neighbors, but most of the time I don't like myself. Often my own insecurities get the best of me. But loving people, I think involves a genuine, healthy love for yourself. How can we live a life transformed by an amazing, unending love without learning to love and accept ourselves for who we were created to be? Ultimately, our insecurities keep our focus on ourselves, limiting our attention on the people around us.
Another thing that I see a lot in myself, which I think may be from our culture and again my own selfish tendencies. But often, when we love we expect it to be reciprocated. Love knows no bounds, but I sure do. And I can put some pretty weighty conditions on a person in order for them to receive my very selfish, very messy love. But I don’t necessarily think that’s a healthy or true thought about love. Although it’s nice to be loved in return, genuine love for others is given freely. I think that you can see that most clearly during Jesus’ time on the cross, eh?
My last thought on this is from a couple of months ago. I watched a video about loving people despite their circumstances. I’ve mulled it over in my mind since then, and I can see why we would want to do that. It’s about acceptance. At least that’s what it sounds like to me, and I sure like acceptance. But the thing is, I think that view fails to actually meet other’s needs. When our needs are big, and well, just plain needy, often it’s the people that make an effort to meet those needs that shows true kindness, a genuine love. Maybe instead, our efforts should be to love people in the midst of their circumstances. During Jesus’ ministry, he didn’t just come to accept those seeking him. He came and listened to people and met their needs. He healed the sick, showed kindness and respect to the woman at the well when most ignored her, and met our greatest need - he freed us from our sin!
I don’t think this all is coming out how I have it in my head, but most of my thoughts rarely do come out right. And I'm sure there's a better way to explain all this and there are likely many more barriers we encounter in loving people. But basically, love is great, but loving people is hard work. We can’t do it on our own. And the times when we try to do it on our own, when our selfish desires get in the way, is when we fail to accept the transforming power of God's love for us. So get out there, and love some people. It's what Jesus would do.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Where the Story's Going
Every once in a while, there is day during which I decide to write a blog post about our lives being stories that we create, following some of the things Donald Miller writes in A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. Today is one of those days. In the book, Miller defines a good story as one in which there is "a character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it."
I have been thinking about this definition of a story for the past few days and trying to see how my life might fit into it. Does my life right now reflect such a story-structure?
The answer I arrived at was simply "No." I haven't been overcoming conflict to get something I want. Truth be known, I haven't really done much of anything for the last two months. Here's how a typical week has looked for me: I go to class Mondays and Tuesdays, and then the rest of the week I sleep in, sit around my apartment all day, stay up late on Facebook and Youtube, and then go to bed, only to repeat the cycle the next day. There is no progress in that kind of existence. Good stories aren't about people that just hang out engaged in random trivialities with no purpose in mind (except for maybe The Catcher in the Rye, but that's unique).
After thinking about it for a while, I began to see that a large part of my problem is that I haven't even established the first part of a story's definition for myself: "a character who wants something." I've had to stop and ask myself, "What do I want? Do I even know?" Those are questions I hadn't paused to reflect on for a long time, but they are questions that need asking. If you don't know what you want, then you don't know how you should be spending your time to get there. If you don't want anything, then it's acceptable to spend your days in any way you please, because nothing gets you any closer to or farther from your nonexistent goal. With an undefined goal, it's okay for the day's activities to be an amorphous blob of random peddling. But if you're life is going to be a good story, it's necessary to first figure out what you want.
A qualification may be needed here. Wanting something and overcoming conflict to get it isn't all that makes a good story. Some wants are better than others. If, while considering the question "What do I want?" you decide what you want is a sweet car or to be the most attractive guy in town or to live in a gated community, then it may be that you need to reexamine what you want, because while those might make a story, they don't make a very meaningful one.
As I was thinking about how this all works in my life, I decided to tweak the question a little bit and to ask myself, "Who do I want to be?" In a good story, the character develops. He changes. At the end of the story, he isn't quite the same as he was at the beginning. This is the difference between a round character and a flat one. So the other day, I blocked off some time and sat down with a pad of paper. I really thought about this and began to write down ideas. Then, when I had established a list of who I want to be, I wrote down ideas for each point, concerning how I can begin to achieve those goals. Here's some examples of what I came up with:
On their new album (which comes out next week!), Switchfoot has a song called "Thrive." Here's some of the lyrics, and I think they go well with what I have been thinking in all of this: No, I'm not alright / I know that I'm not right / A steering wheel doesn't mean you can drive / A warm body doesn't mean I'm alive / No, I'm not alright / I know that I'm not right / Feel like I travel but I never arrive / I wanna thrive, not just survive
Now when I go to bed, I can think, "Did the things I did today move me toward the person I want to be?" The hope is that I am able to answer that question in the affirmative more and more as time goes by. Then my life might start looking less like mere existence and more like a story. Less like surviving and more like thriving.
So what are some of things that would be on your list? Who do you want to be? Leave a comment; you might help give others some good ideas!
I have been thinking about this definition of a story for the past few days and trying to see how my life might fit into it. Does my life right now reflect such a story-structure?
The answer I arrived at was simply "No." I haven't been overcoming conflict to get something I want. Truth be known, I haven't really done much of anything for the last two months. Here's how a typical week has looked for me: I go to class Mondays and Tuesdays, and then the rest of the week I sleep in, sit around my apartment all day, stay up late on Facebook and Youtube, and then go to bed, only to repeat the cycle the next day. There is no progress in that kind of existence. Good stories aren't about people that just hang out engaged in random trivialities with no purpose in mind (except for maybe The Catcher in the Rye, but that's unique).
After thinking about it for a while, I began to see that a large part of my problem is that I haven't even established the first part of a story's definition for myself: "a character who wants something." I've had to stop and ask myself, "What do I want? Do I even know?" Those are questions I hadn't paused to reflect on for a long time, but they are questions that need asking. If you don't know what you want, then you don't know how you should be spending your time to get there. If you don't want anything, then it's acceptable to spend your days in any way you please, because nothing gets you any closer to or farther from your nonexistent goal. With an undefined goal, it's okay for the day's activities to be an amorphous blob of random peddling. But if you're life is going to be a good story, it's necessary to first figure out what you want.
A qualification may be needed here. Wanting something and overcoming conflict to get it isn't all that makes a good story. Some wants are better than others. If, while considering the question "What do I want?" you decide what you want is a sweet car or to be the most attractive guy in town or to live in a gated community, then it may be that you need to reexamine what you want, because while those might make a story, they don't make a very meaningful one.
As I was thinking about how this all works in my life, I decided to tweak the question a little bit and to ask myself, "Who do I want to be?" In a good story, the character develops. He changes. At the end of the story, he isn't quite the same as he was at the beginning. This is the difference between a round character and a flat one. So the other day, I blocked off some time and sat down with a pad of paper. I really thought about this and began to write down ideas. Then, when I had established a list of who I want to be, I wrote down ideas for each point, concerning how I can begin to achieve those goals. Here's some examples of what I came up with:
I want to be a good preacher. Which means I should listen to a few sermons a week from preachers I admire. I should do a better job of cataloging illustration ideas I come across. And I should pray! (E.M. Bounds: "Air is not more necessary to the lungs than prayer is to the preacher." I love that guy.)
I want to be a critical thinker. Which means I read more, zone out in front of my computer less, and blog regularly.
I want to be socially engaging. Which means I talk to people I don't know, contribute to conversations if I have something worth saying, and try to get over my feeling that I am always out of place.
I want to be a responsible and productive person. Which means I make myself get out of bed at a decent time instead of sleeping in as late as I want. I clean my apartment every weekend. I stick to my financial budget. I put my dishes in the dishwasher before going to bed and take out the garbage instead of piling it up like Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout.
I want to not be single anymore. Which means I work on my dance moves and start saving up money for a tattoo.Intentionally taking time and making this list was one of the most helpful exercises I have done in a while, and I encourage you to make your own list. Just think, "Who do I want to be? What am I not now that I want to be in the future?" Once you know that, you can start developing a plan to make it happen. You can look at each quality you want to develop and figure out how to get there. All of a sudden, the way you use your time and energy begins to take shape.
On their new album (which comes out next week!), Switchfoot has a song called "Thrive." Here's some of the lyrics, and I think they go well with what I have been thinking in all of this: No, I'm not alright / I know that I'm not right / A steering wheel doesn't mean you can drive / A warm body doesn't mean I'm alive / No, I'm not alright / I know that I'm not right / Feel like I travel but I never arrive / I wanna thrive, not just survive
Now when I go to bed, I can think, "Did the things I did today move me toward the person I want to be?" The hope is that I am able to answer that question in the affirmative more and more as time goes by. Then my life might start looking less like mere existence and more like a story. Less like surviving and more like thriving.
So what are some of things that would be on your list? Who do you want to be? Leave a comment; you might help give others some good ideas!
Saturday, September 17, 2011
The God We Need
Recently I have been reading the book of Judges, which is one of my favorite Old Testament books. In Judges, we read all kinds of incredible stories of how God works in behalf of his people, and we also see a lot of really cool examples of how God can use people who seem fairly insignificant to do some amazing things. There is a flip side to the book of Judges, however. Not only does this book give us incredible pictures of God's might, but it also serves as a sad commentary on the Israelites and their lives. The story of the book is cyclical: the Israelites start worshiping other gods, God allows them to be oppressed by other nations as a result, the Israelites wise up and cry to God for help, God raises up a judge to save them, and then when the judge dies the Israelites revert to idolatry and the whole cycle starts over again. Because of this sad history, over and over again we read something like "Again the Israelites did evil in the eyes of the Lord."
Judges 10 is a good example of how the Israelites keep going back to false gods. Verse 6 says that they again did evil in the eyes of the Lord and "served the Baals and the Ashtoreths, and the gods of Aram, the gods of Sidon, the gods of Moab, the gods of the Ammonites and the gods of the Philistines."
Sheesh! That's quite the list. It's not just that the Israelites forsake the true God for one idol. They're grabbing every god they can find.
Why do they do this? Why are the Israelites so quick to forget about the God who miraculously brought their ancestors out of slavery in Egypt, who parted the Red Sea, who took care of them in the wilderness, who drove out the previous residents of the Promised Land, and who had already delivered them by several of his judges?
I think that the Israelites tended to worship whatever god met their needs at the time. When they were being oppressed and needed rescuing, they turned to the God of Abraham because he was the only one who could come through. But when life was going alright--when no foreign invaders were threatening their borders and when the crops were fruitful--they worshiped idols because that's what was convenient. After all, a statue doesn't make too many demands. It's was a lot easier to worship Baal than it was to live the holy life God had called them to. So they followed whatever god fit the occasion.
Sadly, we probably do similar things today. We follow other gods when it's convenient. Granted, most people don't bow down to statues or sacrifice an animal on an altar. But we rely on things other than god until those things fail to give us what we need. A person might put their trust in their bank account because it takes pretty good care of them. Or a person's god could be himself, and he believes that he has the ability and the smarts to navigate life just fine. Another person might place his trust in a relationship, because as long as that is going well, there's no problems. Now in the event that the gods are unable to give us what we need--when bank accounts dry up, a relationship crumbles, or the Philistines invade the land--that's when we'll worry about God. In the meantime, though, it can be easy to think we don't need him. After all, these other gods don't call us to love our enemies, serve the outcasts, or be truthful. They are a lot more convenient.
The problem, of course, is that none of these other gods can give us what we really need. They have no power. It was the same for Israel's idols, and God calls them out on it. Back in Judges 10, when the Philistines and Ammonites overtake the Israelites and the cry out to God to rescue them once again, God says, "Go and cry out to the gods you have chosen. Let them save you when you are in trouble!" (Jgs. 10:14). The point is that those gods can't do that. They're just blocks of wood and chunks of stone.
Likewise, any false gods we bring into our lives lack the power that we need from a god. We might like that they don't demand much from us, but we're not crazy about their impotence. So we try to go back and forth--calling on the true God when we need him but returning to idols when it's convenient. It's like choosing what I should wear today based on the weather forecast. I look for a god that meets the needs of the moment. But that's not the kind of god that God wants to be. He's not just another t-shirt in my dresser. He's all there is. He's the God for every occasion--for when life is going well, and also for when it's not. Anything else is a cheap imitation. And no one really wants a knockoff.
Judges 10 is a good example of how the Israelites keep going back to false gods. Verse 6 says that they again did evil in the eyes of the Lord and "served the Baals and the Ashtoreths, and the gods of Aram, the gods of Sidon, the gods of Moab, the gods of the Ammonites and the gods of the Philistines."
Sheesh! That's quite the list. It's not just that the Israelites forsake the true God for one idol. They're grabbing every god they can find.
Why do they do this? Why are the Israelites so quick to forget about the God who miraculously brought their ancestors out of slavery in Egypt, who parted the Red Sea, who took care of them in the wilderness, who drove out the previous residents of the Promised Land, and who had already delivered them by several of his judges?
I think that the Israelites tended to worship whatever god met their needs at the time. When they were being oppressed and needed rescuing, they turned to the God of Abraham because he was the only one who could come through. But when life was going alright--when no foreign invaders were threatening their borders and when the crops were fruitful--they worshiped idols because that's what was convenient. After all, a statue doesn't make too many demands. It's was a lot easier to worship Baal than it was to live the holy life God had called them to. So they followed whatever god fit the occasion.
Sadly, we probably do similar things today. We follow other gods when it's convenient. Granted, most people don't bow down to statues or sacrifice an animal on an altar. But we rely on things other than god until those things fail to give us what we need. A person might put their trust in their bank account because it takes pretty good care of them. Or a person's god could be himself, and he believes that he has the ability and the smarts to navigate life just fine. Another person might place his trust in a relationship, because as long as that is going well, there's no problems. Now in the event that the gods are unable to give us what we need--when bank accounts dry up, a relationship crumbles, or the Philistines invade the land--that's when we'll worry about God. In the meantime, though, it can be easy to think we don't need him. After all, these other gods don't call us to love our enemies, serve the outcasts, or be truthful. They are a lot more convenient.
The problem, of course, is that none of these other gods can give us what we really need. They have no power. It was the same for Israel's idols, and God calls them out on it. Back in Judges 10, when the Philistines and Ammonites overtake the Israelites and the cry out to God to rescue them once again, God says, "Go and cry out to the gods you have chosen. Let them save you when you are in trouble!" (Jgs. 10:14). The point is that those gods can't do that. They're just blocks of wood and chunks of stone.
Likewise, any false gods we bring into our lives lack the power that we need from a god. We might like that they don't demand much from us, but we're not crazy about their impotence. So we try to go back and forth--calling on the true God when we need him but returning to idols when it's convenient. It's like choosing what I should wear today based on the weather forecast. I look for a god that meets the needs of the moment. But that's not the kind of god that God wants to be. He's not just another t-shirt in my dresser. He's all there is. He's the God for every occasion--for when life is going well, and also for when it's not. Anything else is a cheap imitation. And no one really wants a knockoff.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
You Can't Stay Here
If you're anything like me, sometimes you like to just sit back and think about "the good ol' days." About those times when life was so much simpler. Those times when your responsibility-load was low, Chick-fil-A gave student discounts, your favorite NFL team hadn't just gotten smashed by 28 points, and the pretty girl who sits in front of you in class hadn't called you a hippo-eyed dweeb yet.
Ah, those were the days.
There is a potential danger in spending too much time reminiscing like this, however. What can end up happening is that we focus so much on the past that we become hesitant to move into the future. We become stuck in days gone by and are unprepared for the day we're in right now. We become like Uncle Rico from Napoleon Dynamite--constantly thinking about our glory days on the high school football team and never moving forward in creating a dynamic present or future.
I think that the God of the Bible is a forward-moving God. This is not to say that God has no interest in the past. Christianity is a faith drawn from history. Often in Scripture, God's people recall how God has acted in the past (e.g., Deut. 1-3; Ps. 105). The purpose of this, however, is so that they can better understand how God is leading them into their future. It's not just so that they can all lay around and say, "Hey man, remember how we defeated Og king of Bashan? Yeah....that was pretty sweet." God reminds them of such things so that they can carry on with the work he has for them to do.
Sometimes God needs to give his people a little kick in the pants to get them moving. We see it in the account of the Transfiguration, where Moses and Elijah appear on a mountain with Jesus while Peter, James, and John watch. When Moses and Elijah are getting ready to leave, Peter says, "Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters--one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah." It's as though Peter is so impressed with that moment in time that he just doesn't want to let it go. He wants to hold on to it for a while. Instead of going back down the mountain with Jesus so that he can continue his ministry, he wants to pitch camp on the mountain. But that's not what God has planned for Peter. He can't stay on the mountain. He needs to go with Jesus to Jerusalem. He needs to see the resurrected Christ. He needs to speak at Pentecost and witness to Cornelius.
Peter's gotta get off that mountain.
It's a similar situation when we read about the Israelites' journey through the wilderness on their way to the promised land. Over and over again, the Israelites meet some new obstacle and they start to complain, wishing they were back in Egypt. When they start running low on food, they grumble, "If only we had died by the Lord's hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death" (Ex. 16:3). Later on, when they're tired of nothing but manna, they say, "If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost--also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic. But now we have lost our appetite; we never see anything but this manna!" (Num. 11:4).
These are just a couple examples; there are other times where the wandering Israelites freak out and start reminiscing about "how good they had it in Egypt." Last week the preacher at my church said that the Israelites have "an eternal case of nostalgia." They get stuck in their remembrances of the past to that point that they want to turn away from where God is taking them and go back to Egypt. The crazy thing is that they're days in Egypt weren't even very good! They were slaves! And yet, the comfort of what they know seems more appealing than the discomfort of their future, which they feel unsure about. And yet, God is calling them forward. They can't go back to Egypt. God has bigger plans for them than that.
Since moving to Cincinnati last month, I have caught myself being like the Israelites a lot. I sit around and think about how great things used to be even just six months ago. It was so nice to have money for Taco Bell and to have a TV to watch football on and to have a roommate to joke around with. I even think longingly of my college's dining hall, where I could just walk down the hill to eat a meal prepared for me. (I forget, however, that when I was there I frequently complained about how the portions weren't big enough or how baked potato bar was the biggest ripoff in the world.) The result is that I end up being grumpy and dissatisfied with where I am, and I might lose sight of how God is pushing me forward into something even better.
Are you ever like that? Do you often look so intently at what you miss from your past that you close yourself off to what God might have planned for your present and future? Or maybe you're like Peter, and you want to put up a tent around some significant spiritual experience while you miss the God who is right in front of you?
God is moving us forward. Let's join him for the ride.
Tonight I watched the original King Kong from 1933, and really liked it, actually. The love interest of the movie is between an actress and a sailor. For the first part of the movie, the sailor is a total jerk to the actress. All he does is talk about how women get in the way, and he frequently mentions how she shouldn't be on the ship. This goes all the way up to the point when he all of a sudden tells the actress that he loves her. And even though he has been horrible to her all the way up to the point, she kisses him. The lesson learned? It was really easy to get women to like you in the 30's. I guess I was just born 80 years too soon.
It also helps a lot if you rescue her from a 50-foot ape.
Ah, those were the days.
There is a potential danger in spending too much time reminiscing like this, however. What can end up happening is that we focus so much on the past that we become hesitant to move into the future. We become stuck in days gone by and are unprepared for the day we're in right now. We become like Uncle Rico from Napoleon Dynamite--constantly thinking about our glory days on the high school football team and never moving forward in creating a dynamic present or future.
I think that the God of the Bible is a forward-moving God. This is not to say that God has no interest in the past. Christianity is a faith drawn from history. Often in Scripture, God's people recall how God has acted in the past (e.g., Deut. 1-3; Ps. 105). The purpose of this, however, is so that they can better understand how God is leading them into their future. It's not just so that they can all lay around and say, "Hey man, remember how we defeated Og king of Bashan? Yeah....that was pretty sweet." God reminds them of such things so that they can carry on with the work he has for them to do.
Sometimes God needs to give his people a little kick in the pants to get them moving. We see it in the account of the Transfiguration, where Moses and Elijah appear on a mountain with Jesus while Peter, James, and John watch. When Moses and Elijah are getting ready to leave, Peter says, "Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters--one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah." It's as though Peter is so impressed with that moment in time that he just doesn't want to let it go. He wants to hold on to it for a while. Instead of going back down the mountain with Jesus so that he can continue his ministry, he wants to pitch camp on the mountain. But that's not what God has planned for Peter. He can't stay on the mountain. He needs to go with Jesus to Jerusalem. He needs to see the resurrected Christ. He needs to speak at Pentecost and witness to Cornelius.
Peter's gotta get off that mountain.
It's a similar situation when we read about the Israelites' journey through the wilderness on their way to the promised land. Over and over again, the Israelites meet some new obstacle and they start to complain, wishing they were back in Egypt. When they start running low on food, they grumble, "If only we had died by the Lord's hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death" (Ex. 16:3). Later on, when they're tired of nothing but manna, they say, "If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost--also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic. But now we have lost our appetite; we never see anything but this manna!" (Num. 11:4).
These are just a couple examples; there are other times where the wandering Israelites freak out and start reminiscing about "how good they had it in Egypt." Last week the preacher at my church said that the Israelites have "an eternal case of nostalgia." They get stuck in their remembrances of the past to that point that they want to turn away from where God is taking them and go back to Egypt. The crazy thing is that they're days in Egypt weren't even very good! They were slaves! And yet, the comfort of what they know seems more appealing than the discomfort of their future, which they feel unsure about. And yet, God is calling them forward. They can't go back to Egypt. God has bigger plans for them than that.
Since moving to Cincinnati last month, I have caught myself being like the Israelites a lot. I sit around and think about how great things used to be even just six months ago. It was so nice to have money for Taco Bell and to have a TV to watch football on and to have a roommate to joke around with. I even think longingly of my college's dining hall, where I could just walk down the hill to eat a meal prepared for me. (I forget, however, that when I was there I frequently complained about how the portions weren't big enough or how baked potato bar was the biggest ripoff in the world.) The result is that I end up being grumpy and dissatisfied with where I am, and I might lose sight of how God is pushing me forward into something even better.
Are you ever like that? Do you often look so intently at what you miss from your past that you close yourself off to what God might have planned for your present and future? Or maybe you're like Peter, and you want to put up a tent around some significant spiritual experience while you miss the God who is right in front of you?
God is moving us forward. Let's join him for the ride.
Tonight I watched the original King Kong from 1933, and really liked it, actually. The love interest of the movie is between an actress and a sailor. For the first part of the movie, the sailor is a total jerk to the actress. All he does is talk about how women get in the way, and he frequently mentions how she shouldn't be on the ship. This goes all the way up to the point when he all of a sudden tells the actress that he loves her. And even though he has been horrible to her all the way up to the point, she kisses him. The lesson learned? It was really easy to get women to like you in the 30's. I guess I was just born 80 years too soon.
It also helps a lot if you rescue her from a 50-foot ape.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Christianity Needs Jesus
There is a wide range of views concerning Jesus. If you watch TV documentaries about Jesus for very long, you'll hear all sorts of ideas: that he was a Jewish apocalyptic prophet, that he studied in India and returned to Palestine as a wise sage, that he ran off to France with Mary Magdalene. The list goes on and on. In all of my reading and classes on the subject, though, I have always heard, "Every serious scholar acknowledges that Jesus was indeed an historical figure. Barely anyone denies this claim." I have always thought that scholars who deny Jesus' historical existence were like Honus Wagner T206 baseball cards--you know there's a few out there, but chances are, you won't come across one.
Until today.
For one of my classes, I am reading The Historical Jesus: Five Views. This book consists of essays about historical Jesus studies from five notable scholars in the field. These five scholars write from the full spectrum of views, from a very liberal stance to a conservative one. Today I read the first essay, which is entitled "Jesus at the Vanishing Point" and is written by Robert M. Price. Price is one of those scholars that you always hear about in whispers but rarely bump into. The main thesis of his essay is that there never was an historical Jesus.
My purpose in this post is not to critique the material of Price's essay. The book includes responses by the other four contributors, and they each do a much better job that I could. Needless to say, I disagree with pretty much everything Price writes. But what I find most interesting about this essay, and perhaps the most troubling, is when Price writes that he is "now a happy Episcopalian. I rejoice to take the Eucharist every week and to sing the great hymns of the faith. For me the Christ of faith has all the more importance since I think it most probable that there was never any other" (56).
That absolutely blows my mind.
Price completely denies that Jesus ever lived. Everything contained in the gospels is thrown out the window. No incarnation. No sinless life. No crucifixion. No resurrection. And yet, even though he rejects all of this, Price still places himself in the Christian camp. He goes to church. He sings the songs and takes the Lord's Supper. And I simply wonder: Why?
I remember having a similar reaction when I read The Meaning of Jesus by Marcus Borg and N.T. Wright. Borg is a member of the Jesus Seminar, and though he may not be quite as extreme as Price, his views concerning Jesus certainly don't follow orthodox Christianity. Most notably to me, Borg rejects the bodily resurrection of Jesus. He writes, "I see the empty tomb and whatever happened to the corpse of Jesus to be ultimately irrelevant to the truth of Easter" (130). He goes on to explain his belief that after Jesus' death, his followers "continued to experience Jesus as a living reality," even though his body was not brought back to life (135). In spite of his beliefs, Borg, like Price, says that he is "committed to the vigorous practice of the Christian faith" and is involved in church life (vii).
What if Borg and Price were right? What if Jesus never did rise from the dead? What if he never existed at all?
Would I still be a Christian?
Nope.
No matter how I slice things up, I can't see any reason to be a Christian without Jesus. Unlike some other religions, Christianity is one that is founded in history. It's grounded in a person--the incarnate Son of God who gave his life on a Roman cross and walked out of his tomb three days later. If the New Testament is wrong about the central doctrines of who Jesus is and what he did, then the Christian faith is a sham. It's irrelevant. Even the apostle Paul wrote that if Jesus were not raised from the dead, our faith would be futile and we would be pitied more than all men. We would be wasting our time. Christianity stands or falls on Jesus. Christianity is not about the Lord's Supper or singing hymns or being baptized. These practices only have meaning as they are grounded in the historical reality of Jesus. Without him, there's nothing.
Thankfully, though, Jesus is real. He really did live two thousand years ago. He really did die for our sins and then conquer death through the resurrection. He really does promise us eternal life with him. The things the New Testament tells us about him are true. Jesus' feet made footprints in the Palestinian sand. His blood left stains on the wood of his cross. His burial clothes were left behind in the tomb. He really did live, and he continues to live.
And that's why I'm a Christian.
Until today.
For one of my classes, I am reading The Historical Jesus: Five Views. This book consists of essays about historical Jesus studies from five notable scholars in the field. These five scholars write from the full spectrum of views, from a very liberal stance to a conservative one. Today I read the first essay, which is entitled "Jesus at the Vanishing Point" and is written by Robert M. Price. Price is one of those scholars that you always hear about in whispers but rarely bump into. The main thesis of his essay is that there never was an historical Jesus.
My purpose in this post is not to critique the material of Price's essay. The book includes responses by the other four contributors, and they each do a much better job that I could. Needless to say, I disagree with pretty much everything Price writes. But what I find most interesting about this essay, and perhaps the most troubling, is when Price writes that he is "now a happy Episcopalian. I rejoice to take the Eucharist every week and to sing the great hymns of the faith. For me the Christ of faith has all the more importance since I think it most probable that there was never any other" (56).
That absolutely blows my mind.
Price completely denies that Jesus ever lived. Everything contained in the gospels is thrown out the window. No incarnation. No sinless life. No crucifixion. No resurrection. And yet, even though he rejects all of this, Price still places himself in the Christian camp. He goes to church. He sings the songs and takes the Lord's Supper. And I simply wonder: Why?
I remember having a similar reaction when I read The Meaning of Jesus by Marcus Borg and N.T. Wright. Borg is a member of the Jesus Seminar, and though he may not be quite as extreme as Price, his views concerning Jesus certainly don't follow orthodox Christianity. Most notably to me, Borg rejects the bodily resurrection of Jesus. He writes, "I see the empty tomb and whatever happened to the corpse of Jesus to be ultimately irrelevant to the truth of Easter" (130). He goes on to explain his belief that after Jesus' death, his followers "continued to experience Jesus as a living reality," even though his body was not brought back to life (135). In spite of his beliefs, Borg, like Price, says that he is "committed to the vigorous practice of the Christian faith" and is involved in church life (vii).
What if Borg and Price were right? What if Jesus never did rise from the dead? What if he never existed at all?
Would I still be a Christian?
Nope.
No matter how I slice things up, I can't see any reason to be a Christian without Jesus. Unlike some other religions, Christianity is one that is founded in history. It's grounded in a person--the incarnate Son of God who gave his life on a Roman cross and walked out of his tomb three days later. If the New Testament is wrong about the central doctrines of who Jesus is and what he did, then the Christian faith is a sham. It's irrelevant. Even the apostle Paul wrote that if Jesus were not raised from the dead, our faith would be futile and we would be pitied more than all men. We would be wasting our time. Christianity stands or falls on Jesus. Christianity is not about the Lord's Supper or singing hymns or being baptized. These practices only have meaning as they are grounded in the historical reality of Jesus. Without him, there's nothing.
Thankfully, though, Jesus is real. He really did live two thousand years ago. He really did die for our sins and then conquer death through the resurrection. He really does promise us eternal life with him. The things the New Testament tells us about him are true. Jesus' feet made footprints in the Palestinian sand. His blood left stains on the wood of his cross. His burial clothes were left behind in the tomb. He really did live, and he continues to live.
And that's why I'm a Christian.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Christians on the Playground
Do you remember being called any names when you were a child?
Kids on the playground at recess calling each other mean names is a pretty common happening, and all of us have probably undergone the heckling of classmates as some time in our past. For a lot of people, such experiences can even have a lasting impact on a their psyches. There are sorts of names out there to call people. Geek. Nerd. Four-eyes. Pizza-face. Moron. The list could go on.
When I was a kid, people called me by some pretty mean names too: Stud. Mister Awesome. The Incredible Hulk. The coolest kid in class. It was a pretty rough childhood, as you can tell.
In all seriousness though, no one likes to be called names. Because of this, we try our best to disassociate ourselves from such labels. "Hey man, I'm not a geek, ok? I just wear this Star Trek Deep Space Nine t-shirt to be ironic. I got it at Goodwill for like, two bucks." Or maybe you'll say, "Look, you can't call me four-eyes! These aren't even prescription lenses!"
These days, there is another label that is thrown around in a derogatory way, and it's one that I have applied to myself my entire life: Christian. It seems like that word has become a slur in recent years. In our culture, "Christian" is a dirty word in many circles. Now, since the first century, people in the unbelieving world have spoken against Christians. The sad thing is that today, their reasons often aren't because we are so passionate about evangelizing or because we are loving those the world has cast aside. Rather, it's because we do many things that don't look very much like Jesus at all.
A few years ago I read a book by David Kinnaman called unChristian. Kinnaman is the president of the Barna Group, which conducts a lot of surveys about religion and spirituality. In this book, Kinnaman reports on a series of surveys about how American's perceive of Christians, and many of his findings are pretty troubling. What he found is that, instead of being known for their love or good works, Christians are usually thought of as hypocritical, judgmental, and out of touch, among other things. The point of the book is a difficult truth: as far as how we are perceived by the world, Christians often look very unlike Jesus.
I think this has even caused many Christians to be leery of the attaching the word "Christian" to themselves. They don't want to be associated with the negative connotations that go with that term in popular culture. So instead, they talk about being Jesus-followers or God-seekers or something like that. And churches, instead of naming themselves that sounds too "Christian-y," choose more hip names like "Legacy" or "Refuge." (You can see a big list of such church names here. And we get books like Rob Bell's Jesus Wants to Save Christians. I haven't read it, so I can't comment on it too much, but I think the title is telling.
My purpose is not to criticize these sorts of efforts at distancing the church from the Christian label. In fact, I wonder if this might be necessary. If the word "Christian" has become stained with so many associations that are harmful to how we are understood by the world, is it a bad thing to discard it so that the gospel isn't dismissed before we even have a chance to present it?
What do you think? Has the word "Christian" become so damaged in our day and age that we should be cautious of applying it to ourselves--not because of fear or timidity, but because we don't want to turn people away unnecessarily? Or is it a label that should continue to be worn with pride?
Kids on the playground at recess calling each other mean names is a pretty common happening, and all of us have probably undergone the heckling of classmates as some time in our past. For a lot of people, such experiences can even have a lasting impact on a their psyches. There are sorts of names out there to call people. Geek. Nerd. Four-eyes. Pizza-face. Moron. The list could go on.
When I was a kid, people called me by some pretty mean names too: Stud. Mister Awesome. The Incredible Hulk. The coolest kid in class. It was a pretty rough childhood, as you can tell.
In all seriousness though, no one likes to be called names. Because of this, we try our best to disassociate ourselves from such labels. "Hey man, I'm not a geek, ok? I just wear this Star Trek Deep Space Nine t-shirt to be ironic. I got it at Goodwill for like, two bucks." Or maybe you'll say, "Look, you can't call me four-eyes! These aren't even prescription lenses!"
These days, there is another label that is thrown around in a derogatory way, and it's one that I have applied to myself my entire life: Christian. It seems like that word has become a slur in recent years. In our culture, "Christian" is a dirty word in many circles. Now, since the first century, people in the unbelieving world have spoken against Christians. The sad thing is that today, their reasons often aren't because we are so passionate about evangelizing or because we are loving those the world has cast aside. Rather, it's because we do many things that don't look very much like Jesus at all.
A few years ago I read a book by David Kinnaman called unChristian. Kinnaman is the president of the Barna Group, which conducts a lot of surveys about religion and spirituality. In this book, Kinnaman reports on a series of surveys about how American's perceive of Christians, and many of his findings are pretty troubling. What he found is that, instead of being known for their love or good works, Christians are usually thought of as hypocritical, judgmental, and out of touch, among other things. The point of the book is a difficult truth: as far as how we are perceived by the world, Christians often look very unlike Jesus.
I think this has even caused many Christians to be leery of the attaching the word "Christian" to themselves. They don't want to be associated with the negative connotations that go with that term in popular culture. So instead, they talk about being Jesus-followers or God-seekers or something like that. And churches, instead of naming themselves that sounds too "Christian-y," choose more hip names like "Legacy" or "Refuge." (You can see a big list of such church names here. And we get books like Rob Bell's Jesus Wants to Save Christians. I haven't read it, so I can't comment on it too much, but I think the title is telling.
My purpose is not to criticize these sorts of efforts at distancing the church from the Christian label. In fact, I wonder if this might be necessary. If the word "Christian" has become stained with so many associations that are harmful to how we are understood by the world, is it a bad thing to discard it so that the gospel isn't dismissed before we even have a chance to present it?
What do you think? Has the word "Christian" become so damaged in our day and age that we should be cautious of applying it to ourselves--not because of fear or timidity, but because we don't want to turn people away unnecessarily? Or is it a label that should continue to be worn with pride?
Saturday, September 3, 2011
How to Hack Off a Pharisee
Well friends, I am happy to be able to announce that I am no longer unemployed because I have been offered a job at a nearby Wal-Mart (assuming that I passed my drug test and background check. It probably wasn't the best day to eat four dozen poppyseed muffins for breakfast). So the next time you're in the Cincinnati area and need to buy...just about anything, stop by and say hello.
In Luke 4, Jesus is at the synagogue in his hometown of Nazareth when he gives what many people see as his "inaugural address." When he stands up to read from the Scriptures, he reads a passage from Isaiah 61: "The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." Then Jesus says to the crowd, "Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing."
When you look at Jesus' ministry throughout Luke's gospel, you can see how it fulfills this description that Jesus gives right at the beginning. His ministry is one of freedom, liberation, and jubilee. He cleanses lepers, gives sight to blind, raises the dead, hangs out with the scum of society, and proclaims forgiveness for sins. His ministry tears away the chains by which people had been held down. Jesus transcends the barriers that society had erected and shows love to the last and the least.
In Luke 5-6, there are a series of stories in which Jesus demonstrates this sort of liberating ministry. What is interesting to me, though, is how everything that Jesus does in these stories would have totally hacked off the religious establishment--the Pharisees and experts in the Mosaic law. While Jesus is bringing love and freedom to people who have rarely experienced it, the Pharisees become indignant that Jesus would dare to do the things he does.
If you look at these two chapters, you can see what I mean. In Luke 5:12-16, Jesus heals a man with leprosy by reaching out his hand and touching the diseased man. This man's leprosy would have made him ceremonially unclean (Lev. 13), so by touching him, Jesus would seem to show little concern about the Mosaic laws concerning clean/unclean. And that would certainly annoy the Pharisees. Next, in Luke 5:17-26, a lame man is brought to Jesus, and Jesus declares that the man's sins are forgiven. The Pharisees speak up at this point, objecting that it is blasphemous for a man to forgive sins. After this, in Luke 5:27-32, Jesus calls the tax collector Levi to follow him, and then he eats at Levi's house with a hodgepodge of tax collectors and sinners. This causes the Pharisees to complain that Jesus associates with such filth. Then, in Luke 5:33-39, the Pharisees are upset that Jesus' disciples don't fast the way that they do. And then finally, in Luke 6:1-11, Jesus ignores the Pharisees' rules about Sabbath-keeping by allowing his disciples to pick grain and by healing a man with a shriveled hand. This really ticks off the Pharisees, so that they begin plotting about what might be done with Jesus.
In this section, then, there seem to be two different systems at work. On one side is the ministry of Jesus--touching lepers, having lunch with prostitutes, and thinking about others' welfare instead of the intricacies of rabbinic law. On the other side are the Pharisees--standing aloof from the problems of the world in an effort to protect their own religious purity. Jesus' ministry is one that brings grace and freedom; the Pharisees' brings control and apathy toward the hurting.
A question we need to ask ourselves is whether our churches today look more like Jesus' ministry or the Pharisees. Are we living out the freeing ministry that Jesus modeled for us? Are our churches places where the hurting and broken come for healing? Or do they stay away, afraid that we will only sneer at them in judgment? It's a sad truth that the latter might be true.
I recently read Philip Yancey's book What's So Amazing About Grace?, and I would certainly recommend it. In it, Yancey describes how God shows us such incredible grace and how we too should be fountains of grace in a world that doesn't experience much of it. At the beginning of the book, Yancey shares a friend's experience to illustrate why a book about grace is so necessary:
It's a problem when the unbelieving world looks at the church, and instead of seeing the face of Jesus, they see the demeaning glares of the Pharisees. It seems as though the very people who were most attracted to Jesus are the ones who are the most repulsed by the church today. I can't think of a way to explain that other than to say that, far too often, the church looks less like Jesus and and more like the Pharisees.
We need to recapture the freeing nature of Jesus' ministry. We need to begin to once again be known for our love and grace, not for our judgment. And it start with you and me, I suppose. I'm always fascinated with places in the gospels where Jesus goes toe-to-toe with the Pharisees. It may because I'm a lot like a Pharisee myself. We all need to take frequent looks at the way Jesus lived and how he interacted with others, and let's start living out that grace ourselves.
And now, as I often like to do, here's an unrelated sidenote. I often like to use my blog to muse about how relationships work and to present some new idea to get girls to notice me. (All of this is actually just a subtle attempt to get readers to leave a comment saying, "Look, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Here's how it really works...). Anyway, yesterday I watched a couple old Star Trek episodes, and in one of them, the Enterprise picks up a 17-year-old kid who grew up with no human contact. When this kid meets a girl on the ship he likes, he impresses her by doing card tricks. Granted, he kind of ruins it all when he turns out to be a psycho who makes people vanish with his mind. But while he was doing those card tricks, he was king! So I guess if I want to get a date, I just need to learn some card tricks. Everyone likes card tricks. They're a natural conversation-starter. So if you know any good ones, come teach me! We're all in this together.
In Luke 4, Jesus is at the synagogue in his hometown of Nazareth when he gives what many people see as his "inaugural address." When he stands up to read from the Scriptures, he reads a passage from Isaiah 61: "The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." Then Jesus says to the crowd, "Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing."
When you look at Jesus' ministry throughout Luke's gospel, you can see how it fulfills this description that Jesus gives right at the beginning. His ministry is one of freedom, liberation, and jubilee. He cleanses lepers, gives sight to blind, raises the dead, hangs out with the scum of society, and proclaims forgiveness for sins. His ministry tears away the chains by which people had been held down. Jesus transcends the barriers that society had erected and shows love to the last and the least.
In Luke 5-6, there are a series of stories in which Jesus demonstrates this sort of liberating ministry. What is interesting to me, though, is how everything that Jesus does in these stories would have totally hacked off the religious establishment--the Pharisees and experts in the Mosaic law. While Jesus is bringing love and freedom to people who have rarely experienced it, the Pharisees become indignant that Jesus would dare to do the things he does.
If you look at these two chapters, you can see what I mean. In Luke 5:12-16, Jesus heals a man with leprosy by reaching out his hand and touching the diseased man. This man's leprosy would have made him ceremonially unclean (Lev. 13), so by touching him, Jesus would seem to show little concern about the Mosaic laws concerning clean/unclean. And that would certainly annoy the Pharisees. Next, in Luke 5:17-26, a lame man is brought to Jesus, and Jesus declares that the man's sins are forgiven. The Pharisees speak up at this point, objecting that it is blasphemous for a man to forgive sins. After this, in Luke 5:27-32, Jesus calls the tax collector Levi to follow him, and then he eats at Levi's house with a hodgepodge of tax collectors and sinners. This causes the Pharisees to complain that Jesus associates with such filth. Then, in Luke 5:33-39, the Pharisees are upset that Jesus' disciples don't fast the way that they do. And then finally, in Luke 6:1-11, Jesus ignores the Pharisees' rules about Sabbath-keeping by allowing his disciples to pick grain and by healing a man with a shriveled hand. This really ticks off the Pharisees, so that they begin plotting about what might be done with Jesus.
In this section, then, there seem to be two different systems at work. On one side is the ministry of Jesus--touching lepers, having lunch with prostitutes, and thinking about others' welfare instead of the intricacies of rabbinic law. On the other side are the Pharisees--standing aloof from the problems of the world in an effort to protect their own religious purity. Jesus' ministry is one that brings grace and freedom; the Pharisees' brings control and apathy toward the hurting.
A question we need to ask ourselves is whether our churches today look more like Jesus' ministry or the Pharisees. Are we living out the freeing ministry that Jesus modeled for us? Are our churches places where the hurting and broken come for healing? Or do they stay away, afraid that we will only sneer at them in judgment? It's a sad truth that the latter might be true.
I recently read Philip Yancey's book What's So Amazing About Grace?, and I would certainly recommend it. In it, Yancey describes how God shows us such incredible grace and how we too should be fountains of grace in a world that doesn't experience much of it. At the beginning of the book, Yancey shares a friend's experience to illustrate why a book about grace is so necessary:
A prostitute came to me in wretched straits, homeless, sick, unable to buy food for her two-year-old daughter. Through sobs and tears, she told me she had been renting out her daughter--two years old!--to men interested in kinky sex. She made more renting out her daughter for an hour than she could earn on her own in a night. She had to do it, she said, to support her own drug habit. I could hardly bear hearing her sordid story. For one thing, it made me legally liable--I'm required to report cases of child abuse. I had no idea what to say to this woman.
At last I asked if she had ever thought of going to a church for help. I will never forget the look of pure, naive shock that crossed her face. "Church!" she cried. "Why would I ever go there? I was already feeling terrible about myself. They'd just make me feel worse."That's a problem.
It's a problem when the unbelieving world looks at the church, and instead of seeing the face of Jesus, they see the demeaning glares of the Pharisees. It seems as though the very people who were most attracted to Jesus are the ones who are the most repulsed by the church today. I can't think of a way to explain that other than to say that, far too often, the church looks less like Jesus and and more like the Pharisees.
We need to recapture the freeing nature of Jesus' ministry. We need to begin to once again be known for our love and grace, not for our judgment. And it start with you and me, I suppose. I'm always fascinated with places in the gospels where Jesus goes toe-to-toe with the Pharisees. It may because I'm a lot like a Pharisee myself. We all need to take frequent looks at the way Jesus lived and how he interacted with others, and let's start living out that grace ourselves.
And now, as I often like to do, here's an unrelated sidenote. I often like to use my blog to muse about how relationships work and to present some new idea to get girls to notice me. (All of this is actually just a subtle attempt to get readers to leave a comment saying, "Look, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Here's how it really works...). Anyway, yesterday I watched a couple old Star Trek episodes, and in one of them, the Enterprise picks up a 17-year-old kid who grew up with no human contact. When this kid meets a girl on the ship he likes, he impresses her by doing card tricks. Granted, he kind of ruins it all when he turns out to be a psycho who makes people vanish with his mind. But while he was doing those card tricks, he was king! So I guess if I want to get a date, I just need to learn some card tricks. Everyone likes card tricks. They're a natural conversation-starter. So if you know any good ones, come teach me! We're all in this together.
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