Some days I want to rant.

Some days I want to cry.

Some days I want to flee.

Some days I want to rejoice.

Some days I do all of the above.

I want to say that Jesus spent a lot of time in bars. I want to say it, because I believe that the functional equivalent of that statement is true. Jesus Christ, friend of sinners. The Pharisees thought that Jesus was a drunkard because of the crowd he hung with.

I've wasted 20 precious years building a good reputation. I have one of the best. My good reputation proceeds me. I can't enter a bar without it being a big deal. Everyone was shocked that I went to play pool at the Buckhorn.

God, please allow me to play pool in bars with people who have never heard of you.

There's a part of me that wants to let go and let God. There's a part of me that wants to find myself at the end of a dark, scary alley; cold, yet at peace, knowing that God has guided me there and will see me through. There's a part of me that wants to grip onto every selfish thought I've ever had. It's easiest if I hold on to my comfortable life. Plush comfort, good reputation, nice church family.

God, please allow me to find myself in situations I never asked for, never expected, and could never dig out of on my own.

When I was in High School, until 10th grade, I only hung out with the Christian kids. We formed a clique and never strayed. At some point I left and began friendships with sinners (or at least those who openly acknowledged their sin.) My Christian friends were heart - and some feared I was no longer a Christian.

God, please remind me to look outside of the church for friendship.

I've gotten back in the Christian crowd - and I'm unhappy. My family isn't happy that I could ruin my reputation ... but I'm so damn tired of the choir boy routine. Most days I don't give a damn about the poor: some days I care less.

God, please forgive me for my transgressions. I have not loved with my whole heart - or even the biggest part.

This break reminded me of the need to "go into all the world." That starts right here. In dark alleys, in filthy houses, in smoke filled bars. The invitations I'm handing out are addressed to people the world would scorn. Christ has come for this!

God, forgive me for craving comfort more than I have ever craved you.

Amen.

Seeing my family again reminds me why I want to lose weight. Rebecca has promised me that if I ever get as big as aunt sharol she will kill me. It's a nice gesture, really.

Family ... what a beautiful thing.

Christmas in the Empire. - Bishop William H. Willimon.

It's strange to hear a prophetic voice in this day and age.

I recently had a doctor's appointment in the same building as an obesity clinic. The obesity section had a large bulletin board with "before and after" pictures of people who had recieved major surgery to lose weight. My mom pointed out the most interesting thing about the pictures; those who were happy in the "before" picture were happy in the "after" picture. Those who were unhappy in the "before" picture were unhappy in the "after" picture. Losing half of their body weight did nothing to improve their level of joy.

I see a lot of Christians every day who struggle with a multitude of sins. I hear Christians say "if only" they could get over that one particular sin habit. Masturbation, pornography, homosexuality, lust, gluttony, cursing, smoking, etc. The list goes on. (I don't think all of those things mentioned in the list are sin - yet that is the list) That "if only" they could overcome that one addictive sin behavior that they could ... could what? I never quite hear the rest of the sentence. Be happy, I suppose, or be righteous, or get right with Christ.

I weigh in at a portly 285. I'm not garguntuam, but I am a bigger person. I realized a number of years ago that if I couldn't be happy with who I was as a fat person, that I could never be happy with who I was at any size. It was a revelation, really. I stopped hating myself. I still don't want to see any photos of my body at pool parties, but I can be happy with who I am.

I think the same principle applies in both situations. Not that we should be happy with our sinful old selfs, but that we should be able to rejoice in what Christ has already done in us. If we can't celebrate the fact that Christ died for the forgiveness of our sins while we are yet sinners, how can we pretend that we would celebrate that fact if we were without sin?

I think the old "love the sinner hate the sin" slogan applies first and foremost to ourselves. Christ has counted each and every one of us as worthy of salvation - now why should we hate ourselves for our sin? A friend who struggles with homosexuality recently said that if people found out his secret he would kill himself. This simply breaks my heart. 1.) That we as the church have created a culture that elevates one sin above all others that a person can't even openly struggle against sin without being persecuted. 2.) That a person could hate the sinner (even unto death) even when the sinner is looking him back in the mirror, and 3.)That the church has so blatantly missed the mark and has no plan to revise its current stance, even knowing that it has caused much harm.

This Christmas, take a break from loving family and friends and be selfish. Love yourself. Love the sinner that you look at every day in the mirror. Show grace, mercy, and forgiveness to yourself. Celebrate that Christ died for you knowing that you would continually mess up - even after salvation. Celebrate the new life that Christ has given to you- knowing that you aren't perfect - and celebrate the victorious limp knowing that Christ's love is sufficient even in the face of your "secret little sin."

Christ has come for this

Those were the lyrics the high school boy might have heard as he passed the group of adults singing christmas carols. "Christ has come for this."

He might have heard them. The singers were engaged in a power play of musical tempo, making the understanding of lyrics difficult. If he did hear them, he might have understood them. He might have understood them. We were all scowling because of the cold, and if our message was one of joy I think we missed our mark.

Truly, Christ has come for this. For this boy - for his heart to be turned toward God. Not for petty squabbles to be carried out in His name, not for families to fake and feign holiday joy, not for songs to be sung to graying streets filled with slush; but for people.

That God would come to earth as a baby speaks volumes about His heart. That we can't even get through a four verse carol without needing things done our way says a lot about our hearts.

But, alas, Christ has come for this. For us - for our hearts to be turned toward His.

"Faith is not a story of belief in the midst of predictability. You must believe when everyone and everything tells you not to. Faith is the ability to clean the lenses and find hope and joy among the cracks. Faith is found in the midst of life, not in spite of it. This is a story of Christmas. Each Christmas, inspired by Mary and Joseph, find reason to believe even when idyllic dreams of life change."

Bishop Tom Bickerton

I'm in Pennsylvania, being paraded around as the trophy child No.2. It's disgusting. I get to go home soon, so hopefully I can take advantage of this time home to get together with old friends.

Here's to seeing what happens.

The Nativity Story

Most often we fail to fully embrace the eccentricity of the birth narrative as described in the gospels. We sterilize the story and trap it in a box of religious zeal. It becomes holy and sanctified until we are no longer suprised by it. It was a “then” thing. But, could you imagine the story happening today; the unlikely cast of characters:

Elizabeth: The old biddy of a pastor’s wife who gains a few pounds and suddenly thinks she’s pregnant with a special child. She might be right, but with a suddenly-mute husband and a new-found Buddha belly things aren’t looking to bright, not to mention her youngest cousin …

Mary: The 13 year old “virgin” who somehow managed to get knocked up. Oh sure, she’ll be memorialized with a stoic face, full of grace; but tonight she looks scared as hell. We want to judge her, but we recall our own past and remember that no one is truly pure; remembering our own sexual transgressions we wish to keep hidden – and we say a little prayer of thanks that we never ended up with child-support payments or a young one of our own. The ladies at Bible Study, who all agree that she hasn’t been coming faithfully enough talk behind her back, “Poor dear, God bless her sinful little heart.” Not to mention her poor fiancé ….

Joseph: The man with one marriage behind him about to marry his new bride; she’s pregnant and he knows he isn’t the father. The fool will probably marry her anyway. He believes her angel stories. Men will believe anything, it seems. Or maybe he just doesn’t have too many prospects left. So they travel out of town because of an edict, darn governmental red tape, and try to find even one last room happening upon …

The innkeeper: The foreign-born hotel owner who is finally getting ahead during the mid-season rush, with a full hotel, and a strange couple looking for the last room in town. He knows that every two-bit motel is full tonight, and he’s compelled to help. He can’t just send a pregnant woman out into the cold, can he? Maybe they could just sleep in the lobby or the old tool shed out back? If only he had known just what he was in for and who all would show up …

The lowliest shepherds: The mill-workers pulling extra hours at the mill to make a few bucks to spend for the season. Living a gritty, grimy existence, covered from head to toe with grease, they claim to have seen an angel pointing the way to a better existence. They claim to be honest men, but you know how people in their profession act, I’m sure they saw an angel – they probably saw some little green men, but there were others …

The wise men: Men with expendable income, excess time, and no wives to keep them at home? In a modern retelling they would have to be the gay. Three queens, riding in from the city without a clue about the small town culture. Bringing lavish, pointless gifts: Gucci bags, Prada shoes, and enough hair care products to last a baby with no hair at least 3 years. There is just one other player …

The Baby King: Perhaps the most sterilized, trivialized, stock-character of them all in our classic tale, but perhaps the one who was originally the most scandalous. Th’incarnate one; Christ the Lord. It’s bad enough that God leaves his post in Heaven, but that he takes the form of a baby? God, being passed around by greasy mechanics and rich queens, simply coos and smiles.

It doesn’t fit on a Christmas card. It doesn’t have a pretty bow. There are loose ends; we’re left unsatisfied. Mary can’t prove she’s a virgin; Jesus can’t prove he’s the King. We have unreliable witnesses or witnesses with tarnished testimonies – you take your pick. There’s nothing certifiable about the whole story, you aren’t sure if you want to tell your kids (especially your 13 years old daughter) all the details.

So Mary become the heroine of courageous faith, Joseph the honest man of valor, the shepherds show up clean with white sheep, and the wise men seem to have a point and purpose. It makes a beautiful Christmas card – we come to accept it as easy fact … but we fail to realize the scandal behind the story. We see these people as plastic figurines and it sets our minds at ease.

I'm feeling like a bit of a failure at the moment. It's an odd feeling that I get every know and then. It's a feeling of depression, but I can't figure out any reason for the depression; at least not a reason that makes sense.

The drama team I lead was going to do a skit for 11 church. The girl who I want to give the lead too doesn't want to do it. My top priority is to give the kids the courage and confidence that they need to thrive in life. I feel like I haven't accomplished that. It's a sad feeling.

I cussed twice in youth group on Sunday. I was in the senior high youth group discussion and I was so angry that I cussed ... twice. Not just once, but twice. I don't think that cussing is a sin ... but I don't want to encourage younger beliefs to sin ... but I do want them to be honest. If they think that the core tenets of the Christian faith are bullshit ... i want them to be free to voice that. I don't want them to feel that they have to be someone they aren't because their in church. I know they cuss at school; why shouldn't they be the same person at church?

I have a friend, of whom I love dearly, who makes me feel like I am a burden on his busy life. He's never said anything, but I always feel like he's just shy of telling the truth ... it's so odd.

How can you be simultaneously happy and sad?

Из всех искусств важнейшим для нас является кино. - Влади́мир Ильи́ч Ульянов
Translation: Cinema is the most important of all the arts for us. - V. I. Lenin

I spent 9 1/2 hours in a film session yesterday. It was glorious. I was feeling a little communist today, and a good bit in love with film.

2 Kings 16:3 “… who sacrificed his own son, which was a disgusting custom of the foreign nations.”

Sometimes God must remind us that we don’t yet have Him figured out. God is a mystery. A beautiful, wonderful mystery.

The Christian faith has trumpeted for 2000 years that you can know this God personally. Recently, however, we have crossed our wires and tried to teach that you can know everything about this God with absolute certainty. Modernism called for an end to anything that could not be quantifiably measured and calculated; this included God. The church caved to pressure and allowed the God of all mystery to be systematized. Suddenly, God was small – small enough that we could comprehend Him. He made sense; and a person need only fall for the ranting of a glib faith-salesman’s rational explanation/trickery to gain personal salvation. If you can’t defend your doubt against the truth of the man with the slicked back hair; surely you just got saved. (Now repeat this prayer after me …)

But it was not this god; the god of rules, regulations, and repetition; but the God of mystery – all-powerful, omnipotent, creator God – who sent His only son to die for the sins of the world. … as was the disgusting custom of the foreign nations? Of all the salvific formulas God could have imaged and placed into motion – he chose the strongest, harshest, most unethical plan imaginable … one that had been condemned when perpetuated by godless nations: the sacrificial slaughter of a son.

It doesn’t even make sense. As if God pulled a number from a hat, He, seemingly, purposelessly chose the most painful option to save the world from sin. He could have chosen any method of propitiatory satiation. Salvation for the world could have come through a mighty warrior, a military ruler, the death of a grizzly murderer, a pink bunny delivering brightly colored eggs, or any other avenue God saw fit to employ.

But the God who will continue to mystify even the most brilliant scholar chose the route of unbelievable pain and suffering – the death of his beloved son – as the means of our salvation. God threw a curveball; created the mystery to end all mysteries, and yet we believe that we can systematically comprehend His motives. Bullshit. (I’m a theologian, primarily!)

Ms. Griffin, a missions prof, once said “Do you realize that the sum of all of your theology is less than God.” It was revolutionary when juxtaposed against our Bible classes; where all Truth may be learned. All the thoughts that I have about God add up to significantly less than who He is. All the thoughts that I will ever have about God will never begin to compare with the vastness of mystery contained in the act of salvation God chose through His son, the Christ.

Oh, to die alone on an airplane with a credit card purchased ticket.

Removed.

I've got nothing.

I have a lot that I want to get out ... but at this point I just can't get my thoughts straightened out long enough to write them down.

Sorry - Love, Michael.

Prayer is becoming a part of my life. I have always prayed, lest anyone begin the defrocking of my Christian faith, but it has never come naturally. I would pray a stilted prayer before meals and a somewhat less stilted prayer of salvation before takeoffs and landings on airplanes.

My thankfulness can be sent up at any time these days. And, I no longer beg for a pardon on runways, but rather thank God for the long productive life I have led.

I don't ask forgiveness 18 times after a "big" sin. I thank God for his assurance that my sins are foregiven.

I pray for the service before it begins, an hour before it begins, and I pray for my friends.

When I was having an MRI, I had an intese hour of prayer for my loved ones.

Prayer isn't something that I do, it's something that I am. Let's hope it keeps going in that direction.

Sex!

There, now that I have your attention I'm going to talk about the existential divide ... no, I'm really just going to talk about sex.

Why is sex the biggest topic in the Christian world? Why is it the final taboo?

We don't talk about it. When we do talk about it we sterilize it. We use safe, euphemistic words. Medical terms are generally okay, but not always - you just need to know.

The church teaches, inadvertantly I do believe, that sex is the greatest sin; that engaging in premarital fornication, homosexuality, oral sex, or anything not intended primarily for reproduction is inherently sinful. If you can't wait to have sex you should get married when you're 18 - whether you're ready or not. If you do fornicate - you have committed a sin that is unforgivable in the eyes of God.

I don't buy it. I know that moms and dads don't want their kids having sex, and I know that premarital sex is dangerous, and I know that waiting until marriage is much more fulfilling, and I know that having sex before marriage is a giant emotional burden that most people can't handle. I know all of these things, but I can't believe that sex is a sin that the grace of God can't cover.

I think it's morally irresponsible to teach anything less than the full gospel. It is true, sex outside of marriage is a sin. I would never deny that, but we take it a step too far when we teach, intentionally or not, that sex is unforgivable or a greater sin. God mourns our sin when we choose not to wait for marriage, but he also mourns our sin when we choose to lie to our kids. He also mourns when we change the gospel to fit our needs.

I want my friends to know that I don't support sex outside of marriage, but if you are choosing to do so, please use a condom. If you are too afraid to buy condoms (especially if you live in Toccoa) let me know and I will buy them for you.

Sex is fun, but it isn't fun enough. God's grace is sufficient.

I’ve been out of it for a few weeks. I haven’t been writing, partly, because my thoughts are too complex to be ascribed with words. I’m not a communicator. I can usually get a point across, but it takes great effort.

I’m tired of being a Christian. There I said it. I know when these times come that they do so only because I have been trying desperately to live a rule driven faith. It doesn’t work. It won’t ever work. I try so hard, in my own power, to keep from sinning that I sin. It’s very complex and never fun. It’s not what the Christian life is about, but, in time of distance from the Lord, I try and make it the foundation of my faith. I revert to works when things are going badly.

When I revert to works I get real tired of Christianity, real fast. I know many Christians who live their entire faith from a works mentality. I can’t fathom life that way. I can’t imagine living out a faith without the grace of Christ playing a primary role.

I taught my small group last week. I taught on the topic of grace. It seemed, to me, that I could have been speaking Klingon. It was like none present had ever thought about the idea of grace. Now, I admit that my personal views on grace are a little extreme; but I was still shocked that my brothers and sisters in Christ had spent so little time trying to understand grace.

I have a favorite painting hung in my living room. It’s a Monet print of a winter scene. Bleak, desolate, and dreary are likely adjectives. But, on the far left, perched atop a fence, sits a lone black bird. I see nothing but hope in this painting. When things look bad there remains hope. Indelible hope.

I have more doctor’s visits scheduled, a cortisone shot on the calendar, and less optimism than I ever thought possible. And yet, by the grace of God, there remains hope. I’m tired of being a Christian, and yet hope remains. I know that this too shall pass. I know that Christ still has a plan for this doubting Thomas. I know that Christ still has a future for this denying Peter. Indelible hope.

I have a book that I occasionally go to and re-read. The book is a collection of biographies of the female bishops. They deal primarily with individual stories of faith formation. Each woman wrote about her parents, but more importantly how her parents shaped her faith. It is wonderful to sit and read stories about people who eventually became people of strong, didactic faith.

One didn’t become a Christian until she was in her twenties. Another had been through a string of five or more jobs before she followed the call of God. Many had grown up with no church influence. Most had never seen a female pastor until they were in college. Some were middle aged before they started seminary. But … God had a plan for their lives. God directed them differently. For me, it’s a book of hope. God has a plan, but it’s a steep, rocky, narrow road.

We don’t tell our stories of faith formation enough. When we give our testimonies, we often focus on who we were before we accepted the grace and forgiveness of Christ. We rarely go into stories of who we have become since that point. I’m sure that most of the problem is one of pride. It’s slightly easier to talk about our pasts because they are behind us now. We aren’t who we should be yet. We haven’t finished our transformation. We need to be willing to share openly and honestly what God has done in our lives since we were saved.

I’m not where I should be, I’m not perfect, but I’m heading in the right direction. It isn’t every day that I can say that much. Praise God.

On Salvation

I have a number of thoughts running through my head, but currently they won’t slow down enough for me to see what they are.

I think that there is something fundamentally wrong with our view of salvation. The problem is I’m not sure what it is I find so disheartening about our current understanding of salvation.
I have a problem with the emphasis of “personal salvation.” I think that we may have over contextualized to the point of syncretism. We live in a culture that highly prizes the individual – so our concept of salvation is only extended to the individual. We have no concept of “group salvation” or the salvation of a people.
Because salvation is only for the individual, every person needs to get saved. I don’t have a problem with this concept – I believe that salvation is available to everyone. But, what is salvation? What does it mean to “ask Jesus into your heart?” What does that even mean? We plan services so that they may whip the congregation into an emotional frenzy that one or two may be saved. We expect pastors to preach salvation sermons with such “umph” that all present will accept Christ. We begin friendships with the sole intent of “leading” that friend to Christ. We learn formulas to take a person down the “Roman’s Road.” We ask that people who have gained the head knowledge of Jesus the Christ to pray the “sinner’s prayer.”
Is a person saved when he repents or does she repent to be saved? Which comes first? Jesus said that a person must forgive others before he can worship and that He will deny us before His father if we deny Him before men. Jesus said “go and sell all you have and give it to the poor.” Is this a condition for salvation? Can a person believe less than the whole gospel and yet find salvation in it? (“I believe that Jesus was a great man who died for my sins.” Can a person believe this and be saved by the name of Jesus even if he doesn’t understand that Jesus was God?) How much of the gospel should a person understand before she can respond to an emotional appeal to “get saved?”
Is it scriptural to play off the most base and selfish desires of Man to usher men into the kingdom? We promise escape from the torment of Hell and eternal reward in Heaven if only one will accept Christ. Salvation sermons rarely touch on the topic of forgiving others, selling possessions, or being willing to die for Christ by taking up the cross daily. Jesus often and willingly told people to leave – he never pressured people to accept his message. He never watered things down; he egregiously offended the people with a cultural taboo when he said that “you must eat of my flesh and drink of my blood” to have any part of Me. This was His condition for salvation and he wasn’t willing to let it go. The only ones who remained after that little speech were the twelve.

Here is what I do believe, and the areas about which I have fewer questions.

I believe that salvation is a choice. We must choose to accept the grace and forgiveness of Christ. If you minister in a collectivistic society you should aim for the group to choose salvation.

Salvation is based on more than head-knowledge; it is founded in heart-knowledge, but quickly moves beyond even that.

Personal salvation should be built on a trust transfer. I as a Christian should maintain such trust with those around me that when I tell them of the good news of Jesus Christ the trust I have built up with them would transfer to the Christ for whom I live my life. I have a lot to learn and a great bit of growth left in this area!

I believe that salvation is the doorway into the Kingdom of God. It isn’t the kingdom, and if it is all we are offering people we have nothing to offer.

A disciple is infinitely better than a convert in the Kingdom of God.

Here are a few things I think I believe about salvation:

A person needs to be saved before he or she can truly repent of his or her sins.

Eradication of sin is a lifelong process, and God will lead the way. A person can, I believe, be a Christian for decades before God will convict him of a particular sin that those around him have noticed since day one.

A person, once saved, should almost never be removed from his old friends and acquaintances to be brought into “church” culture. How can salt make food salty if it never touches the food?

If the joy of the Lord is in your heart ... tell your face.

I live in Toccoa, GA. It happens to be the buckle of the Bible Belt. The football team has scripture clearly emblazoned on each t-shirt of every member of the team. If your pick-up truck lacks scripture verses you are most assuredly in cahoots with the devil. If your (KJV) Bible isn't worn rugged you are a "backslider."

There are 64 Southern Baptist churches in my county. My town has 12,000 people and happens to be the only major town in the county. I live in a thoroughly "churched" area. There isn't a single teacher at the Elementary School where I work who doesn't have a church affiliation. Divorce isn't mentioned. Living an "alternative lifestyle" means you go to the bowling alley on Thursdays instead of Tuesdays.

It is in the midst of this culture that I daily find hurting and broken people. The concept of the gospel held by the majority of people in my area leaves little room for the marginalized. Somehow the gospel message has become mainstream. The message of Jesus is no longer about restoring people to a right relationship with God but about big hair, excessive makeup, and showy cars.

It's neither about orthodoxy nor orthopraxy. It's about appearances. Does it look like I'm living the right way? Do I drive out of town for liquor and hookers? Where I live now it isn't about how well you are living out your faith, it's all about how well it looks like you're living out your faith.

There is a disconnect. People don't cuss or drink, but they also show little evidence of a changed heart.

Tony and I were friends in middle school. We went to church camp together. We both had a great time there. We both asked Jesus into our hearts at the end of that week. So how is it that, a decade later, I am still a committed Christian and Tony has had nothing to do with faith since that day?

Why have I held on to faith when all else failed and Tony felt that faith was the first thing to fail? We will be talking about faith and obedience in worship on Sunday. I have faith that God is real and personal. I am willing to obey God to the ends of the earth. I do wonder, however, why faith isn't a universal concept. How could any God created being live without a desperate need for faith?

I know that people will fail to understand the Gospel of grace. People will take it too far, they will justify sin, and they will fail at righteousness. People will hear me preach the gospel of grace and take it as a license to sin. I know of one brother who, after hearing the gospel of grace, decided that because it “felt right” it was alright for him to sleep with his girlfriend. All of his life he had learned that it was wrong, but in the gospel of grace he found a loophole.

And the loophole does exist. Jesus Christ gives us the freedom to do what we want. He loves us enough to die on the cross, but also loves us enough to give us the freedom to daily reject him without consequence. Love is lived in tears. The gospel of grace exists on the principle that sin is fun, but not fun enough to equal the eternal glory of God. I’m sure my friend has had a lot of fun having sex with his girlfriend. Sex is fun. But, it won’t compare to the eternal glory of God.

“We’ve all been the adulterous whore at one point in our lives.” I spoke these words to one friend who carried on an adulterous affair for an extended period of time. She left the church, her friends, and even God to enjoy that relationship … but she eventually realized that it wasn’t fun anymore. She was miserable. She called me crying and asked for prayer. It wasn’t fun enough.

I know that people who hear me preach the gospel of grace will take their new found freedom too far. They will sin, they might ruin their reputations or their lives. I know this. I have experienced this. But I won’t stop preaching the gospel of grace. I won’t stop because it is the only gospel. There is no gospel of good deeds or of religious exercise or of legalism or of “do whatever you want as long as you are in church on Sunday”… gospel means “good news.” The good news is the grace available in Jesus Christ.

I drove down to Florida this weekend. I had set plans to sleep 8-12 hours every night to try and sleep off this sickness in my body. My plans feel through on Friday night when I found out that Saturday was my grandmother's birthday. Normally, this revelation would have meant a quick phone call on Saturday ... but not this year.

My grandfather drove to Pennsylvania a few days ago. Grandmother felt that she wasn't in good enough health to make the trip. So, Grandfather left her home alone for several days. One of those days happened to be her birthday. My plans changed radically, and through the help and support of my friends I was able to table everything I had to do for the weekend and make the trip to Florida. It was worth it. I know that my Grandmother was happy to see me and glad to not be alone for her birthday.

On the way back I had dinner with several of my Macon friends. It was a really great dinner with really great people. It reminded me again of the need for solid community in the life of the church - and that community in the church does not exclude those outside of the church.

I didn't get the sleep that I needed. I still have my "smoker's cough" but I did find some rest this weekend. Enough to make it through five days of class? We'll see.

The story we should have heard, the truth we should have learned.

Words were spoken, tempers flared; hearts were broken, no one cared. I don’t know what the argument was over, I don’t much care to know. But, there was internal division at my church over something that will eventually seem silly. The couple in charge of the kid’s program left in tears a few minutes before the kids program was scheduled to start. The rest of the workers scrambled to pull something together. I didn’t know the situation at the time. I only knew that we had decided to let the kids play on the playground instead of doing the usual programming.

If I had known what had happened I could have helped. Before leaving, the couple had given me the skit to be performed as the Bible lesson. Before leaving, they told me I wouldn’t be doing it. If I had known the situation, I’m not sure if I could have done the drama. Our Bible story was one I had never heard before. The story of Nabal and his wife’s kindness taught the lesson that we must treat others with respect and kindness to have harmony in our own lives. Let’s play a game of “Spot the Irony.”

… and it is irony; so we laugh. But the laughter burns, burns like the tears did.

Toccoa First United Methodist begins the Natural Church Development process. The goals have been inadequately explained, the procedure barely mentioned, and the people are confused. We did poorest in the field of Passionate Spirituality.

Garrett is five. He colored with his grandmother in the back of the room while his grandfather taught my classes’ lesson. Mack spoke on social justice, forgiving ourselves for our past, and the promised hope of salvation realized through Jesus Christ. Mack was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago, will undergo surgery in a few more weeks, and has actively thought about his past. He has realized his mistakes. He has realized his success.

Garrett watched his grandfather tell friends about the love and forgiveness of Jesus Christ. Garrett watched his grandfather shed tears while speaking passionately about the forgiveness he has received from Christ. Garrett, and the rest of my class, saw passionate spirituality in action.

Mack has found that all of the money he earned in this life isn’t worth a second of heaven. But, it goes beyond that. Mack isn’t a Christian to get to heaven; it’s not about the fire insurance. Mack is a Christian because he chose to follow Christ. Mack knows there is a chance he could die in the not too distant future; and yet he doesn’t focus on the promised rewards of heaven. He chooses to focus on the commands and teachings of Jesus. Heaven will be nice, but it isn’t the point of salvation.

Passionate Spirituality. Being in love with the savior? Having daily QT? Allowing your grandson to see your broken heart through your tears? Talking about your mission trip? How do we express the love of the savior in our daily lives?

Tolstaya Devchonka

The Fat Girl. It was the name of a television program,, THE television program to watch, when I was living in Russia. The premise was simple enough; fat girl in an orphanage is found by long lost uber rich family who takes her in and terrorizes her for being fat and ugly.

They had a skinny girl in a fat suit play the lead role and the fat suit was no bigger than I am. I longed desperately to have something to talk about with my peers while in Russia and television was free, easy to talk about, and a mainstay in everyone’s life. I watched every show of Tolstaya Devchonka.

Her rich family held general soap opera positions. Everyone was rich and beautiful, but the show focused on the fat girl. I figured out the ending long before my friends. The show was a Spanish TV production translated into Russian: Spain and America both have the tale of “The Ugly Duckling” which is one tale Russia is lacking. When the boy that the fat girl liked started calling her his “little duck” I knew that she would undergo a transformation. (I had it pegged when I realized it was a skinny person in a fat suit, but we’ll ignore that.)

The boy she liked didn’t like her because she was fat. She had a nice personality so she was immediately cast aside as the best friend, kept around for dating and relationship advice.

The show ended with a triumphant finale. She came back from a few weeks of vacation, thin and beautiful, and the boy she liked started to like her as well, because now, she too was thin and beautiful. He was even willing to sleep with her now that she wasn’t monstrously sized.

I was so angry after the finale. My friends adored it. Ollysa felt that it was a beautiful love story. Olga loved how romantic it was. I was angry.

We see the same thing day in and day out. If you are thin you are loveable. Margaret Cho discusses her numerous eating disorders in her comedy routine. She says that when she lost weight her father loved her and when she gained weight she was invisible to him. She laughs about it, but you can hear the hurt in her laughter.

I’m an obese person. At my heaviest I weighed 310 pounds. I was loveable then. I loved myself. I’m down to 280 now. I’m loveable now. I love myself. I have found that if I can’t be happy at my current weight I will never be happy.

I wanted the Fat Girl to find happiness and an inner peace. If she did lose weight, I wanted her to ditch the jerk who wouldn’t love her when she was fat. She did neither. She perpetuated the myth that every fat person is just 20 pounds away from happiness.

I weigh exactly what I weighed when I was 16. My target weight is 250 pounds. If I get down to that weight I will weigh what I did when I was in middle school. But … I’m happy at 280. I’m not reserving happiness for the next goal weight. I’m happy with who I am, with who Christ has made me to be.

It’s no love story. It won’t get the ratings. But, it proves a point. The story of my life.

I'm having a wonderful vacation this week. We have been doing everything on the West Side of St. Louis. I've had a lot of fun doing the most random things.

John and I have been getting lost every day while Rachel is at work. We went a REALLY nice mall (hard wood floors and italian leather sofas throughout!) and pretended to be rich and classy. I bought two really nice designer shirts (I'm becoming trendy, please pray for me) for formal occasions. I only brought one nice outfit (for temple on Friday) but we have gone to a nice restaurant every night so far. I needed more nice clothes.

John and I watched La vie en Rose. It is amazing and artsy. Not for kids, but not a bunch of cussing either. It was really well done. St. Louis has a number of free-cheap cultural things. Pretty much amazing.

I've played Tennis almost every day here. Rachel gave me an old tennis racket that is still really nice and a lot better than anything I could afford. I beat John in two games. I'm improving a lot. Soon I'll win a singles set.

John and I are going to do the science center today and then we are going to do a low brow dinner with a really expensive fondue dessert as our entree. We are doing the city musuem tonight. only $3 after 10PM.

Hope everything is going well with everyone I'm not around.

“Let what we do in here fill the streets out there.”

What is it, exactly, that we’re doing in here? We’re singing songs, listening to a man lecture, and giving money to perpetuate “here.” What is it that we’re doing in here, again?

I’m perplexed and confused is essentially what it comes down to. I have been a follower of Christ for a full decade. I have been a believer for slightly longer than I was a heathen. I gave my life to Jesus ten years ago, and still, I don’t know what being a Christian should look like. I have found few imitable people within the church.

I hearken back to the fruit of the spirit for an imitable Christian lifestyle. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. Save my own mother and possibly Dr. Smith, I can’t think of any Christian who fits the bill. I view the beatitudes as an indicator of the Christian life. Blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed are the meek and mild, blessed are the merciful, those who hunger after justice for righteousness sake, those who are persecuted. It’s all well and good – I adore those scriptures. But I don’t see it. I don’t see it in the church and I don’t know how to see it in my life. How do I become more meek? Anyone?

I’m constantly berated by the not-so-subtle messages of the church. Don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t cuss, and don’t leave home without your WWJD bracelet. I joke a good bit about the WWJD bracelet craze; and I apologize to the people who have been helped by that phrase. I haven’t. I’m not opposed to morality – I just don’t think it’s what being a Christian is all about. I believe that Jesus came to abolish the rules system mentality. I believe that Christians can drink, smoke, cuss, and wear any bracelet they choose.

And, then, I’m stuck back where I began. If we aren’t fighting against the evils of immorality, how will the world know that we are Christians. “And they’ll know we are Christians by our T-shirts, by our T-shirts.” Will people know that I’m a believer if I love extravagantly but also cuss? Will they know I’m a Christian by my love … even if I consume alcohol?

I believe that we as the church have set ourselves up for failure. We (the church) have created an impossible morality system that can only lead to mess ups, mistakes, and the forced shooting of our wounded. If we reduce the Gospel to “don’t mess up” the inevitable end will be that we do, in fact, mess up. When this happens we have nowhere to run.

“…but to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Micah 6:8 – What does the Lord require of you? We don’t cuss but we also don’t give a fuck about the poor. In the grand scheme of things – which do you think brings more displeasure to the Lord? When one of his children says the S-word or when his people fail to care for the hurting?

Morality rules suit us better. We can make up our own morality. We can live in McMansions and ignore the poor while demeaning people for sexually errant lifestyles and call it Biblical. Justice isn’t our “thang” as the kids say. If we really cared we would act justly and work to improve the education system – we would show mercy and get kids to stop saying words like “thang.”

What would it look like if we followed the advice of Micah 6:8? Let’s walk humbly with God. Let’s stop trying to show the world how righteous we are and let’s start being real with people. Let’s act justly. Let’s love mercy. It’s a novel idea. And yes, you can still wear your WWJD bracelet.

Don't think that this post is finished. I'm still confused. I'm still in need of answers. I am, as of now, still unsatisfied.

I'm heading to St. Louis in a few Days. I have no insights into life on this particular day. I'm enjoying my vacation time a great deal. I stopped all thought processes three days ago. They haven't started back up yet. Class starts on the 26th. I should be ready by then!

And they lie to you. They tell you that love is real. They tell you that love will carry on, carry you through, or carry away your burdens. They tell you that if you are prettier, smarter, sportier, manlier, taller, thinner, leaner, bulkier, (etc) [__________ fill in the blank] that you will be good enough to be loved. But they lie to you. It simply isn’t true. The love story is false. The lines were rehearsed, the faces made up, the plot so contrite, the dialogue a bitter lie. People don’t love one another.

People lust after one another. They may respect one another. They may be compatible. But … this idea of a person being in love with another person is simply false. I’ve never seen it. I’ve seen moments of sacrificial love between people. They are few and far between.

Love is painful. Love tears at your heart … it rips open your stomach. There is nothing pretty about love. There are no pink frilly hearts involved in love. Love demands a sacrifice. You can’t love someone and not be willing to die for him or her. Jesus loved us and it got him death. We think that when we love someone it gets us sex. Our concept of love is simply wrong.

Our relationships are built on lust. Lust comes first in almost every relationship. We build our relationships from the foundation of lust. Even good evangelicals start a relationship by pursuing a girl who they would be happy to screw for the next 60 years.

We are being lied to. Jane Austen never figured it out. Ron Jeremy hasn’t figured it out. We are too busy filling our lives with stuff, with painful memories and thoughts, or with “pleasure” to ever experience love. Mother Teresa figured it out. I imagine that her heart bled with love – that she endured more pain in loving others than most of us could ever imagine.

Love is patient, love is kind … We don’t get it.

The lyrics of a well written, passionately performed song can move me to a frenzy. The words of a well crafted novel can bring me to tears. Recently, I sat in a book store and wept over pictures of Annie Liebovitz’ family and life. Her pictures were so real, so extraordinary. There’s a passion there that captivated my mind.

Gerald asked me a week ago if I felt a Christian could lose his passion. I assured him that, not only did I feel it would be theoretically possible, but that I have routinely lost my passion. I let him know that it is not only okay to lose passion but a part of the Christian life.

I see no passion in stained glass. There is nothing real about the crystallized Jesus stoically staring down his nose at the heathen in the pew. There is something real and passionate about the pictures in Annie’s book. The pictures of her life partner, Susan, being diagnosed with cancer were more real than stock paintings of Jesus praying in the garden. Annie allowed me to view the slow demise of the woman she loved and the births of her three daughters. Most Christians won’t let anyone see them without makeup. There’s little passion in our lives.

Few Christian bands move beyond superficial lyrics. (How many words can we find that rhyme with God, Jesus, love, or heart.) There are exceptions … they are rare and I support them. I shudder to think of the dribble that most Christian authors put out. Christian movies are horribly corny. What is it about being in love with the risen Savior that makes us incapable of producing media above mediocrity?

Gerald went to the City Commissioners meeting last week. He asked them to be more lenient – to show grace – to those who couldn’t afford to pay their water bill on time. He asked them to give more second chances to the poor in our town. He asked the mayor if he had ever experienced true poverty. Gerald has … he came from there. - … - … - … The newspaper mocked Gerald mercilessly. The writer mocked Gerald’s style of speech, uneducated manner, and the way he was received by the educated commissioners. The paper’s author made it the top priority to point out each of Gerald’s blunders.

Gerald had passion, though. He passionately believed that our town was committing an injustice. He believed that it was wrong for a Christian society to ignore the poor. (If a person is late with a payment, their water is immediately shut off. There is a large fee to have water turned back on.) I’m glad that there are still Christians left with passion.

I long for a passionate church. It is hard to show passion in a 100 million dollar “Christian” film while people in America don’t have money enough to eat. It’s difficult to realize we are spending millions of dollars to entertain ourselves while people go hungry.

I hope for passion – I believe it is a possibility

Influenced

The three of us were shopping at the Outlet Malls when the truth came out. We still dress as if our parents dressed us. Inexplicably the fashion choices we make are aligned completely with the clothes our parents dressed us in.

I was dressed in hand-me-downs as a child and today I wear Goodwill and Salvation Army clothes almost exclusively. John was a label whore since childhood. His parents dressed him in Oshkosh –B’gosh (I take pride in the fact that I have no idea how to spell that). On the day we were shopping he was wearing AE and J-Crew. He ALWAYS wears name-brand clothes. Rachel’s parents dressed her in vintage clothes. She was shopping in a green frock with buttons too large for usefulness and brown leggings. All three of us still prescribe to the clothing choices of our parents.

It’s such a simple thing. We never really break free from our influences. Our religion is largely decided by our families, our perception of ourselves is determined by those of whom we love, our favorite foods will always be cooked by mom, and ultimately our career paths will be narrowed by what is socially acceptable.

How can we possible escape? It’s such a defeatist view … we are destined to become our parents. The simplest things will echo throughout our lives.

My mom brushes her teeth three times a day while I’ve never seen my father brush his teeth. I brush mine once a day.


I don’t think we can ever escape the influences of our childhood. I don’t think we can ever get away from them. Maybe we are destined to repeat the mistakes of our parents and grandparents until our lineage is either too messed up to breed any longer or it “normals out.” I’m not holding out too much hope.

The youth pastor did my second least favorite thing last night. After his sermon he asked for "everyone who wants to do great things for God to stand up!" After everyone was standing, he said "if you don't really want to do great things for God and give everything over to Him, go ahead and sit down."

Like any shy, insecure middle schooler would ever sit down and face the onslaught of condemnation from his or her peers. I wish I had sat down. It's not that I don't want to do great things for God ... I do. It's that I'm not sure I can give everything up right now. Part of me feels that I won't ever be able to give everything up. I believe that God still takes me as I am. I'm sure he's not jubilant about the sin that remains, but he still loves me and will change my heart in His time. So ... who's up for Mediocrity 4 Jesus?

I've lost my passion. It's a desert place - a valley. I'm okay with it. Valleys happen. It doesn't mean that I'm a bad person or a bad Christian. It doesn't mean that I hate Jesus. I still love Jesus - I just have trouble showing it right now. I don't need expectations. I don't need hyper happy Jesus Freaks to tell me that they are "praying for me." I don't need condemnation. I need people to be honest with me and to love me without abandonment. It's what everyone needs.

I'm not alone. There are probably dozens of kids who wish they had sat back down last night. There are probably a lot of kids who feel like a failure for lying to God in front of people they love. It happens.

Sometimes I think that all Christians should be moderate. Sometimes I think that no Christian should ever be so dispassionate to stoop to the level of moderate.

The Breakfast Club for six year olds

We had some down time today in my Kindergarten classroom. We let them work on puzzles, and, upon completion of forementioned puzzles, talk. They just sat around and talked about nothing. They discussed literature. (I must concurr that "The Red Ripe Strawberry" is more enjoyable than"Chica Chica Boom Boom.") They discussed politics (Ricky is the coolest by a majority vote, but that could have been called on day one.)They chatted about current events (Summer school is winding down, even the decorations are being removed.) They talked about life.

We don't do that enough. We don't take enough time to sit and talk. We argue a good bit, yes; but I find that when we do that we don't listen. It's not a discussion. It's so rare to just sit and talk with a person. To say something, listen to his or her response, and reply in kind. It's an oddity. I thinkour churches should have lots of time to just sit and talk. I visited Alma, a friend from my older adult sunday school class, and we talked about our grandmothers for an hour. I'll never answer a Jeopardy question because of what I learned, it won't improve my grades, and I won't win a talent contest as a result of that time - but I grew as a person. I learned a little bit more from where my friend of great faith came.

It's rare for six year olds to be given the chance to just talk during the school day. It's even rarer for adults to choose to make time for the pursuit. It's something I learned from my mother, she made time every Fridayto talk with Althea and Betty. I went along with her every week and listened to their conversations. They talked about everything and nothing. It's so rare - and I think that rarity is reason enough to begin investing. Wanna talk?

For some unknown reason, my desire to change the world is overpowered by my desire channel surf. All of my discussions on eradicating poverty are eviscerated by my own desire for a newer car. I fiercely believe all that I teach, but I find it almost impossible to live it out. Love ax-murderers, child molestors, and crack addicts? Is this even attainable? Can't I just try not to cuss too much, God?

I need friends who can appreciate and learn to love my unique eccentricities:

I don't watch trilogies. I will occassionally watch two out of three, but only in large groups and never with the intent of "finishing the story" by watching the third one.

I am agorophobic. I fear large open spaces. I don't like walking through fields. Oceans feel weird.

I don't like walking towards reflective surfaces. Mirrors are generally alright, but things that aren't intended to be reflective (darkened windows, etc.) that are reflective creep me out.

I like to hold hands and cuddle. It's (generally) not a sexual thing. I will cuddle with anyone who doesn't smell bad. It's affirming yet not slutty. It reminds me of happier days when holding hands was acceptable and cuddling wasn't sexual. I think we fear things from childhood. Why do we stop skipping?

I need to hear "I love you" from friends and family. It's an approval thing. I feel like I have done something wrong if people won't say it to me when hanging up the phone. I like to trick people, by catching them off guard, into responding with those words.

I like to watch people, especially friends, doing nothing at all. Try not to be freaked out and I'll try not to get caught.

I mimic laughs - whichever is best. If you hate my laugh, let it be known that it might be yours. I don't have a distinct laugh. I choose the one that makes me feel happiest. Right now I have a mix of Brittany, my boss from summer camp, my aunt Kim, John Bennet. I haven't been captivated by a laugh in some time.

I realize that I court my friends as if I were intending to propose. They generally get over it.

It's time for catharsis

I love friendship. I love friendships that move too quickly. I love being loud, talking loud, loving loud. I'm sure it grates on some people, but I'm okay with that.

I have confessed to and recieved confession from a number of friends this week. We have confronted brokeness and shame. I believe that Satan wants our sin to stay a secret or if it is known he wants there to be shame. We faced sin with the power of Christ and got through it without shame.

Now it is time for the healing process to begin. Your sins are forgiven. It doesn't matter anymore what your past held. It only matters what's in store for your future. Catharsis happened and it continues.

I love friendship. I love friendships that heal the soul and mend brokeness.

On Regeneration

I'm reading my textbook of Systematic Theology, and am currently on the topic of regeneration. The concept of being born again. Grudem argues that it is entirely passive because of the analogy. When we are born we do nothing. When we are born again we do nothing. Interesting concept - I'll get back to it some day.

But, our birth is two things. The most important event in our lives and something we have no recollection of. I think that our regeneration should be viewed in the same light. It's huge. It's a huge deal. But, what we should remember and focus on is everything after that.

Landa Cope would piss off the righteous TFC students by saying, "You say, 'But Landa, I'm saved!' and I say, 'Good, I'm glad you're saved ... now what." The critics were merciless. She was "downplaying salvation." I mean, she was a woman, and for women salvation comes through childbirth and she was still single ... so she couldn't even be saved, right?(strong sense of sarcasm)

A salvation experience is so incredibly important. I don't want to downplay that, but I hate hearing testimonies that ramble on about the previous, sinful life for twenty minutes and end with "and then I got saved and my life has changed. Amen." It's not about the time you spent in the womb, it's not about the birthing experience, it's about Jesus and what He has done in your life and in the lives of others through you.

We have churches that focus entirely on the birthing process and never even attempt child-rearing. We show people the doorway of salvation, but even after they have entered it we are reluctant to show them the Kingdom standing behind it.

Veronica, I wish that you knew who Rosa Parks was. I wish you knew what she did. I hope some day you will know who she is and what she sat for. I wish someday you will learn her courage.

Shaperio, I wish you didn't have a picture of that damn dead rapper on your backpack. I wish your merchandise celebrated someone who died for something other than his own stupidity. I wish your shoes commemorated someone who lived for Truth instead of living for his own wealth.

Malique, you don't know this yet, but you could be a great leader. I hope you pay attention when they teach you about MLK. I hope you take to heart the things he said. I hope you learn from his speeches. I hope you learn the Truth and lead the way for others.

I want you all to know that you are so much more than you might think. You have the potential to accomplish more than anyone could believe. I love you, and I'm praying for change. The statistics say you will end up on drugs and welfare. Fuck statistics. I pray that I can let you know that God loves you and that He has a plan for you. I hope you know what you are worth. I'm praying that God will use you as leaders - that you will rise above the plan this world has for you and embrace the plan God has for you. I still believe in you and so does God.

I love you and so does God.

Happy Positive Male Influence Day!

I celebrated today with several men who have meant a lot to me. Pastor Andy preached a riveting final sermon, Ed promised me the use of his boat, and Burt and Rick (and families) had me over for dinner.

How incredibly boring it would be if we all agreed. Life would be a catastraphoe if we all held the same thoughts and opinions. I'm glad that people think differently than I do. I'm glad that people hold opinions strongly. It gives me great joy to find brothers and sisters who believe the opposite of my own beliefs but who can still worship beside me.

I would place myself as an Arminian. My mentor is a Calvinist. I'm not opposed to picking sides. I'm opposed to arguing about it. I encourage healthy debate. I encourage people to talk about God and everything about God. I agree with Meredith that this can bring glory to God. But, the knock down, drag out fights I have seen over the debate brought glory to no one. Least of all God. My mentor and I can discuss it in great depth without breaking a sweat. I've seen freshman come to blows over this idea.

I disagree with my pastor, of whom I love dearly, on the issue of infant baptism. We have discussed it in depth, and I realize why he chose to have his baby baptized. I disagree, but because of our discussion I understand his heart. It hasn't changed my mind concerning MY future children, but it has changed my mind concerning his.

I disagree with practically everyone at my school on the issue of gay and lesbian clergy rights. I'm alright with that. I won't argue with anyone about it. I'll explain my position, several times if I have to. I will listen to theirs. But, I won't fight over it. I understand that it is an unfavorable position, and because of this I am more than willing to enter into dialogue with anyone on the topic.

The thing is, I'm alright with the notion that after our dialogue there is a good chance you will still disagree. I don't want people to conform to my own understanding of God and the scriptures, rather I want people to understand and accept WHY I believe as I do. It's not important that you follow suit. It is important that you understand my love for the Savior and accept our differences.

We were so young then. We were filled with hope of what the world might hold for us. We called it hope then. Or optimism. Or a plethora of other positive words. We call it immaturity today. Or naievity. Or a cadre of other negative terms; terms that reaffirm our smug superiority. It's an us v. them affair and we know we are right. The only problem is that "us" used to be "them." And we knew we were right when we were "them."

Dating is a good example. You never get any better at it. In elementary school when you dated a girl you held hands or sat together at lunch. In middle school you did the same thing, except you met each other at the bi-annual dance. In high school (pre-driving days)you did the same thing except you rode together to the dances. You drove her to the prom. You still held hands and sat together at lunch. In college you invite her over for lunch and enjoy her company. If you're slutty sex is involved somewhere in there. (I haven't figured it all out yet, but I believe it can start as early as middle school and continue all the way through the second day of marriage.) We never get any better at the things we do. We're always just as awkward. We're always just as immature.

Friendships are a good example. I've seen fights erupt between civilized adults that amounted to little more than playground spats. Lawyers are involved and occasionally people get shot. You stop being a persons friend, you get new friends, you spend too much time with one friend, you wonder if you ever really connect. Our interpersonal communication skills remain stagnant. We remain children.

Tony Campolo said, "You are as young as your dreams and as old as your cynicism." That might be a paraphrase. I'm a dreamer at heart. I can still visualize world peace, a united church, and fewer objectifed midgets on television. But, my brain is constantly cynical. Take the midget joke above as an example. I'm both 85 and 7. I get angry when someone takes my pew, but I pray and hope fervently that we will have visitors to fill all the other pews.

I don't know what "then" I'm referencing at the top of this blog. Maybe it was when we were "kids." Maybe it was before we came to college. Maybe it was before I wrote this blog. I could keep dreaming and be 7 forever, or I could grow up (mature) and find my seat at the adult table. I just wish this life thing wasn't so confusing.

I was reading my Systematic Theology textbook today. In it Wayne Grudem postulated that humans have higher reasoning skills than animals. I concurr greatly. Then, for evidence of this he wrote, "you will never find a group of Chimpanzees sitting around a table arguing Arminianism versus Calvinism or the doctrine of the Trinity." I think that he disproved his point.

Animals do what they were created to do. If Grudem's hypothesis, namely, "that we are created to glorify God" is true, then we as humans fail to serve our purpose when we argue of the doctrine of the trinity or discuss the merits or Arminianism and Calvinism. If our purpose is to glorify God, than arguing about God would be a sin. Jesus never commanded us to figure God out, he commanded us to go into all the world. ( I understand we must be able to give a reason for the hope that we have, but I don't believe that any complex theological viewpoint is the reason scripture is talking about.)

Maybe animals have higher reasoning skills that humans. Maybe they have figured out that living our God's purpose for thier lives is better than arguing over who God is.

Change.

I find that I strongly dislike stagnation. I prefer change. Daily change; my heart, my life, my routines, my worship, and my passions. If what we are doing isn't working now, why would it work in 5 months, 3 years, or 7 decades? I'm a firm believer in change.

Even of doctrine. I don't think we have all the answers. I can't believe it is ever a fare statement to say that we fully understand God ... so how can we say that we understand what he thinks about everything political? I don't know how God feels about global warming. I have a pretty good idea of how I think he would feel, but I am open to the idea that I could be totally wrong.

I think that Christians need to maintain that attitude about a lot of things. The Bible isn't that specifically clear on too many topics. Any divise issue isn't as clear as either side thinks it is. But, there are things that are clearly laid out. There are 9-26 references to homosexuality in the Bible. There are hundreds of references to tithing and what we do with out money. There are quite possibly thousands of references to love in the Bible. We have churches that, although they stand firmly theoretically on all three issues, in practice only uphold the Bible on one of the issues. We don't tithe, we don't love our enemies (hell, not even our friends). There are so many things that are so clear cut in the Bible that we ignore so that we can continue to argue about the rest.

The Bible speaks over and over again about the need for justice for the poor. However, my sunday school teacher today justified not giving to the poor because Jesus said, "You will always have the poor among you."

So, we take our Bibles and we use what we like, we discard or marginalize what is uncomfortable for us, and we highlight what damns our neighbor to hell. No, I can't say that I am a "Bible Believing Christian" (trademark, copyright). I love the Bible, but I can't figure out which parts I am to marginalize and which parts to highlight.

It wasn't the waterfall I had wanted to see. I went to my church camp yesterday. I knew that there was something there I wanted to see. It wasn't the cabin I had stayed in. It wasn't the chapel. I knew it was something, but I couldn't think what it could be. I figured it out as I passed the building. I had wanted to see a room in "the bob." The Bob Cagle Program Center had been closed to campers last summer. Before our last communion my campers, the other councelor, and I had snuck in. We had a time of fellowship and worship together. We leaned on one another, we cried, we prayed, we confessed. It was beautiful.

No waterfall could compare to what had happened in that room. I had needed to see that room. That's why I had gone.

Some days we need something like that to hold on to.

Why am I even here?

There are days that I wonder about that question. I'm having some problems at church, and today I asked that question. I love my church, the people I mean, and I am excited to be part of a growing church.

I know why I'm here.

Today I met 10-20 parents of children who are going to summer school. These parents were extremely low income people, usually with several children, painfully overweight or underweight, or my age. I get to spend 6 weeks working with their children and trying to get them caught up with the rest of their class.

I know why I'm here.

I have a large circle of friends with whom I spend time. I have rarely been happier.

I know why I'm here.

I have some forgiveness issues to work through still. I have class and school work to catch up on. I have chapter summaries to do ahead.

I know why I'm here.

Some days I just don't remember why I'm here. I need lots of reminders.

I wonder if my emotions about God are normal. After Pentecost, did Peter get tired of everything? Did John get cranky? Did Paul feel like his prayers bounced off the ceiling? Did Bart ever get angry at God?

I went to a youth group function tonight. We started at our church, but drove to the facility where we would worship. It would be a night of Christian unity. We entered the basement warehous through teen-crowded sidewalks. The facility was modern, music was loud. Cliques mingled. Awkwardly shaped youth ministers went around with introductions in every hand shake. Kids played video games, youth sat on comfortable couches. I sat on a stool by myself. I picked up a magazine and tried to blend in. I tried so hard.

Worship began. The youth were told to stand, and, with few exceptions, this was the extent of movement for the service. Mannequins stand motionless while singing "I lift my hands and spin around." Guys are checking out the girls, the girls - focused on the attractive college student leading worship.

What seperates these youth from the general public? I felt like I should have been holding an alcoholic bevrage while rubbing against other people. The girls were wearing sluttier clothes than I will ever let my daughter wear. How many of them are really holding off until marriage for sex? How many are worshipping? We say some bold things in the Christian faith. We claim to worship a soveigrn God ... but we so rarely worship. What we are doing isn't working. What do we do now?

I'm frustrated with God right now. I don't want to hear any sermons. I want to experience christian love. When we have a youth service day we often have fewer than 5 youth show up. If the youth in our youth group don't want to serve others we have failed at creating disciples of Jesus Christ. If Christian service ranks below human bowling on the youths' list of favorite activities we have made a horrible mistake.
We are afraid to try something really different. What if we scrapped all of our programs and just kept the Bible studies? Could it possibly hold the attention of thirty or more youth? What if we never did another fundraiser, never sent the youth to the aqaurium, or never watches another movie together? Would we lose all credible fellowship?

I'm so tired of what we are doing now ... why don't we try something radical?

My biggest fear is failure. It's one of my fears that I am afraid to give to God. I'm afraid that people won't like me, that I won't be good enough, or that everything I do will fail.

I'm wrestling with a lot right now. I start my summer job on Friday. I have a video to put together before Sunday. I'm not sure if I will be good at my job. I'm not sure if the video will get put together.

I feel led to apply for a youth ministry job. I'm so scared. I'm scared that I will fail. I don't want to spend my time trying to be accepted by a group of people. I'm so comfortable working from the idea that "I am who I am and I don't care what you think about me." I'm afraid that will change if I get the job. I'm afraid I won't get the job.

I felt led to apply last fall. I didn't ... and I was sick for months. Hopefully coincidence (not sure how much I believe in Christian Karma), but on the off chance that they were related; I don't want to screw this up.

I need to get my Russia trip together. I'm not cool enough. I have too many obligations. What will people at my current church think? My sunday school class? My drama team? My friends? Will I have time for everything? Will my grades suffer? Will we even have any youth? God ... couldn't you find someone a hell of a lot cooler than me?

I'm not prepared for youth ministry. I don't want to work with youth! I'm afraid that I would just be running from my current responsibilities!

I'm so filled with fear. Fear of failure consumes me. I know that God can take it away. I know that God can use failure. I know that God can use me.

Failure or not; here I come.

Change is good. Random is fun. I don't do enough random stuff. I'm in Macon visiting Rachel today. I don't know anything about Rachel. I didn't know she had brothers, and I didn't know she was left handed.

Random.

More later.

So, I haven't blogged much lately. I lost internet at my house for a while, but today it was back on. I'm hoping it stays for the summer. On-line classes, you know.

I had a great last few weeks of class. I got all of my grades in. I finished with a 3.62 for the semester. Enough to bring my cumulative GPA back up to where it needs to be to keep my scholarship. Praise God. I failed both of my student ministries, but I'm not too concerned about it. I have plenty of time to get those in.

I have started doing chapter summaries. I am going to try to summarize the entire OT this summer. It doesn't seem likely, but you never know. I struggle so much with faith in God when I'm reading the OT. I would die if I was Jewish.

My Sunday School class is going through Revelation right now. I would die if I based my faith on that book. I don't like the lessons one bit. They are not in depth enough to cover the topics with any faithfulness, but they aren't shallow enough to avoid the tricky stuff. It's horrible.

I stood a few inches from Billy Graham's grandson. It was pretty exciting. We gave him an honourary doctorate, which I find funny because we don't even have a master's program, but we can give out doctorates? Great.

I hate human relationships. Things where so much easier on Kremlach where people didn't talk to each other. I just really struggle with defining who I am based on what other people think of me. I realize how ridiculous this is, but (sigh) a friend was rating all of the men on campus and placed a professor over me (end sigh) I know how childish and superficial that sounds ... but I feel so ugly when I can't even compare to a married 35 year ofd prof. Arghh. And, then I feel even more stupid for basing my view of myself on a person's superficial rating system. I just wish I could put less emphasis on what other people think of me.

I feel so silly for having written that above paragraph.

I'm trying to get some rest this week, and also trying to balance family committments for this summer. I don't want to drive home, but my car needs a sticker, and I do want to come home. I feel so alone. It's not like there's any nightlife in Toccoa. I just want to make some non-TFC friends.

That's a summary of my life. Yep, won't do that again for a long time.

Some days I go swimming just to prove that I can't walk on water. I walk around with the thought, "I'm an F-ing Christian, and I can sin if I want to." Those I know who proudly avoid sin at all cost are usually fairly messed up. I'm tired of people's expectations about what a Christian is or isn't and I'm even more tired of people's expectations of what a Christian should and shouldn't do.

Christian's don't drink, smoke, laugh loudly, or have inappropriate thoughts. Unless you're an F-ing Christian, like me. I'm tired of the stereotypes. In the south, "christian" is an adjective. i.e. "This isn't christian of me, but guess who she's sleeping with." I believe that Christian is a noun. That's just the way I was brought up. No, not everyone is a Christian. No, not everyone who goes to church is a Christian. No, not all Christians go to church. No, not all Christians act like everyone else.

I'm still trying to find the balance between avoiding sin at all costs and maintaining an attitude of a blatant sinner. I'm not perfect. I'm not so sure there's much merit in working toward perfection. Where I'm at now is working daily on being more loving. I'm letting God work out the rest. It's still hard, but I don't feel like I'm trying to fit into the rule book.

There is something unavoidably compelling about the life of Corry ten Boom. There is an irreducible factor about her life that, although I could quite easily put my finger on it, I don't want to touch. She lived her life with a faith that went beyond the comfortable.

I think that if a person truly follows Jesus, he or she will be moved out of his or her comfort zone by Him who removes all safety nets. Jesus doesn't want us to make back-up plans. God provides for all of our needs, in His time.

We have corrupted faith in Jesus Christ. We have decreed that our comfort, although in reality often a result of our sinful nature, comes directly from God. We thank God that we were born in America, but fail to appreciate that God works as mightily (or could if we would take the message) in every country in the world. We are thanking God for a comfort He didn't give us. We fail to follow his will, and live comfortably instead.

[[[[ Erwin McManus writes:You've heard it said that the safest place to be is in the center of God's will. I am sure this promise was well intended, but it is neither true nor innocuous. When we believe that God's purpose, intention, or promise is that we will be safe from harm, we are utterly disconnected from the movement and power of God...The truth of the matter is that the center of God's will is not a safe place but the most dangerous place in the world! God fears nothing and no one! God moves with intentionality and power. To live outside God's will puts us in danger; to live in his will makes us dangerous.]]]] - stolen from a post by Bill Beatty

I must daily remind myself that if I am truly following God's will, I will not be safe. I will not be comfortable. I will not be o.k.

I will be in danger and dangerous. I will be radical. I will be different. I will offend people.

Corrie ten Boom did just this. This week I will work on trusting God and trying not to remain comfortable. It's a scary thought.

I don’t have any sermons to preach, witty jokes to perform, or points to make. I have a lot of brokenness that needs healing, friendships that need mending, and sins that need forgiving. I don’t need a hermeneutical exegesis. I need grace. I don’t need a lesson in doctrinal purity. I need an empty tomb.

I again come across one of those times, when I am sad to be at Toccoa Falls College. I’m angry at the unloving and unforgiving acts of the administration. I’m saddened by “friends” who love only when it is convenient. And, I’m upset that I will one day receive a diploma from an institution with which I share almost no opinions. I came here to be challenged. Now, I wish that I had gone somewhere to be loved and accepted.

I am almost done for the semester, and I can’t wait to take my rest. I face a lot of difficult decisions about this summer. I look forward to an eventful summer. I still have a lot to accomplish, and a lot of grace to show others this week. I got sick yesterday and slept for 14 hours last night. Yes, I consider rest glorious. Glorious rest.

Bishop Janice Riggle Huie has asked for those known as Methodists to begin a United Methodist movement. As a strong United Methodist I believe that the movement she speaks of, a movement to revitalize the church through prayer, worship, study, peace, and fellowship, can only be achieved by missions. Bishop Huie said, "The United Methodist movement invites belief in Jesus Christ over the cultural gods, the practice of forgiveness over hate, peace over violence, a better life over poverty, health over sickness." It's time to move past our current structures and paradigms and enter into a new generation of Methodism. This generation will, if it intends to be successful, be more focused on missions than our predecessors.

This Methodist movement is already growing rapidly in the Phillipines and much of Africa. The United Methodist Church in America is shrinking, but our brother and sister churches overseas are rapidly growing. The American churches are driving with our dome lights on and have almost entirely forgotten that headlights exist, much less that they must be on to have any effect. In our local churches we care more deeply about the color of carpeting in the aisles than the unsaved in our own congregation, the condition and placement of the big Bible on the altar than the homeless that live among us, and the polished state of the big brass cross we hold up than the dying masses overseas. Our priorities are far from where they should be. We have slowly become a people of preservation.

The people of Israel were a people of preservation. Although they knew their status as children of God, they still rarely worked towards advancing his cause or teaching those outside of their small community about the creator God. "Missions" for the people of Israel meant teaching those who came of their own volition. It rarely included reaching out with the good news of God or working towards social justice, although both issues are raised and shown to be important to God in the Old Testament. (Micah 6:8, Isaiah 58?)

I believe that the Bible becomes the Word of God when we live it out. The Bible, without God's people living out its vision, is simply a book - nothing more. It is only when we hope in the promises of prophecy, take to heart the parables, and change our behavior and actions based on the teachings of Christ that the book we call The Book becomes the Word of God.

We were working on a movie for church, and one of the scenes called for a Bible to be dropped. I decided we were going to use the Big Bible (trademark) from the Holy Shelf(Registered Trademark) from the church. First I highlighted the passage, and then I instructed the team to drop the Bible on the ground for the scene. Everyone looked at me like I was a three legged frog riding a unicycle. No one could believe that I had just written in the Big Bible, nor that I was suggesting we would drop it on the ground. We did the scene - and the Bible's cover was bent ... but ... God's truth is still in tact.

I don't believe there to be anything special about the book itself, I don't even think reading scripture is magical. It upsets me when we take on animistic forms and treat the Bible like a "magic book." Bill Beatty once wrote this really great quote that I keep on my Facebook wall. "What the heck is going on in our churches that we revere the big Bible on the table but we ignore the broken woman in the pew? We polish the brass cross but we push aside the confused teenager?" I don't know if he would agree with my point (probably not) but I think we share the same sentiment.

The Bible is just another book if we don't live out what it teaches. Christianity is just like all the other religions if we don't hold fast to grace. Revelation is a boring confusing book if we don't hold onto the hope it contains in times of struggle. If our churches aren't effectively reaching the people in our communities it won't matter if we have a Big Bible on every Holy Shelf in every room of the church.

I believe that the Bible is errant ... but in a good way. We are errant creatures trying desperately to live for God. We won't get it right; arguing about premill, amill, or postmill won't help us; and discussing theology is pointless ... unless! ... we live out the teachings of Christ in our daily lives. When we do this we will truly experience the Word of God in our lives.

I recently wrote a paper supporting full inclusion. I understand all of the reasons it was stupid. I handed it in fully knowing that it would persuade no one. I wrote it knowing that I would get a lesser grade than a similar paper without a liberal bias.

I'm tired ...

I'm tired of handing in papers that are lies.

I'm tired of answering questions on tests that violate my beliefs simply for a few points.

I'm tired of people who cannot recognize that God doesn't smite his children for thinking outside of the box.

I'm tired of people doubting my salvation because of a few non-mainstream theological/social points.

I'm tired of being thought of as a lesser Christian because of my beliefs.

I'm tired of the Hermeneutical principal that a text has only one meaning - I don't even think that the original intent of the writer is necessarily what we are supposed to glean from the text.

I'm tired of hearing people deify the Bible while they refuse to live out what is written in it.

I'm tired of the awkward animistic reverance that we attach to the Bible. - If you drop it ... it will ... what? lose it's power? If we burn it ... it will ... what? stop being the word of God?

I'm tired of viewing the scriptures systematically.

So, that's why I wrote my paper on full inclusion. I wanted to be honest. I didn't want to lie to a professor, to a brother. I didn't want to lie to myself by writing a paper I didn't agree with. I'm a follower of Jesus Christ, I may have different opinions than other people, but I refuse to be labeled anything less than an ardent follower of Jesus Christ.

We are surrounded by brilliant people. In our lives we will connect with people who are truly brilliant. Most of us will miss it, though. We discount true brilliance by writing the truly brilliant off as crazy. The autistic boy who plays the piano at my church is more brilliant than any of us could ever fathom.

The certain foolishness of spending a lifetime trying to understand God earns men and women doctorate degrees. I was talking with my friend Daniel today. He said that, although he knew he would never be able to understand God fully he wanted to study the Bible to get a glimpse of God. Our brains are too small to ever even get a glimpse of God through our study. When a person can explain to me how it is just for Hitler and most of the Jews he killed to be in the same hell, when that happens I will believe that we can catch a glimpse of God through our studies.

When I was India I looked into the eyes of lepers and saw Jesus. Go into the city and find people with AIDS - offer them what they need most and tell me that you don't see Jesus. I don't discount Daniel. I believe he will get a glimpse of God, but ... I pray that when I saw Jesus in those lepers they also saw Jesus in me. I don't want to get a glimpse of God is others won't get to see Him through me.

I'm so tired of the status quo. I'm so tired of arguing over doctrine. I will now go and find my rest.

Remember! Remember! God is love. Remember! Remember!

Don't let the world take you down. Don't let rules drag you down. Let the love of God lift you up. Let the grace of God be what you need.

Remember!

If God created all the animals on the earth why is the eagle the only allowable mascot for a Christian college? We're so fixated on scripture that we forget that God created everything. I want to see God in everything. I want to see God in diversity, in nature, in relationships, etc.

We learned about Islam today in my World Religions class. We are practically muslims at my school. We are so fixated on our book that we deny the presence of God in our daily lives. A popular addage we throw around in theological debates is "experience doesn't make it scriptural." On eternal security, it doesn't matter if your aunt had been a missionary and then gave up the faith to worship satan - if there isn't scripture to back it up your point is invalid.

In Islam (I'm just starting to learn forgive me if I'm wrong) following the rules is of utmost importance. At my college (i've been here two years I've already learned this) following the rules is of utmost importance. We deny the Grace of God in our daily lives by our fixation on our book and our quest of following the rules. That's the point of Islam ... but, most assuredly not the point of the Christian faith.

I don't believe that my opinions or analogies are on par with scripture, but I do believe that God is working in my life and is using me daily. He called Hosea to marry a prostitute - I'm sure a few of his friends were a little upset that he wasn't following the rules. Jesus ate with prostitutes and tax collectors - maybe he had never heard the "avoid the appearance of evil" passage ... but he did (technically speaking he wrote it) and he ignored it. I think there's something there - I'm still searching.

We've missed the point - one of the most foundational points of Christianity. Our salvation is NOT dependent on our ability to follow the rules, but rather on the grace of God. God's Grace is not dependent on our ability to follow the rules, but rather on the death and resurrection of Christ.

We take the idea of "freedom from sin" and automatically assume it means that the freed person doesn't do that sin anymore ... I haven't seen any proof of this (ever) happening. I believe that freedom from sin is when you are freed from the guilt of sin - when you realize that God's grace has covered it and you don't need to feel guilty; you are truly free.

I think we over quote the "let's go sin a bunch to show how much God's Grace can cover - may it never be" line. I think that we use that verse to justify legalism. We can't see how ugly legalism is. Legalism (in any form) castrates the gospel message. As soon as Christ's death and resurrection aren't enough the very essence of the gospel has been eviscerated. Grace is what seperates Christianity from every other religion - I'm not willing to give that up to satisfy those who demand stricter adherence to rules.

Jesus was an outcast, too.

The youth were finished eating and grazing towards their worship seats when I entered. Caleb was in the entrance way, back against the wall - pensively standing, just praying that he wouldn't be noticed. I figured the youth were playing hide-and-go-seek or a similar game. I asked him how he was doing and if he was okay.

He was hiding. He's different. He follows the rules and doesn't back talk adults. His parents don't buy him everything he wants exactly when the ask. His actions haven't caused parents to remove their daughters from our Youth Group. He isn't like the other boys at Youth Group.

Jesus was an outcast, too. He was different. Different is good.

I just can't fathom that the Messiah who was born in a barn, died on a tree, and did everything describing an outcast inbetween would approve of a church where the outcast is shunned and the different are asked to leave.

Caleb, be different. Dance to the rhythm that Jesus leads you in, but never conform to the standards set by our Youth Group.

Faith and Praise

Yep, that's the lesson I get to teach to the middle school Sunday school class tomorrow.

Two of the hardest subject for me and I get to present them both in one lesson to a bunch of middle schoolers.

Faith: The story is the parting of the Red Sea. When your back is against the water and Pharoah's army is coming after you what other choice to do you have but to trust in God. When I'm down to my last dime I most assuredly have faith that He will provide ... but ... then there are the times when faith seems option and then it is difficult to have faith.

Praise: Have you ever tried to praise God when it hurts? It sucks. Plain and simple ... it sucketh. But, there is an incredible testimony of faith when we can praise God when things look really bad. We are a people of a hope. Our hope doesn't pertain to our safety or our comfort. Our hope exists when we have faith enough to praise God in any circumstance.

I've got nothing.

Papers and tests march on. No theological insights found. Unrelenting voices in my head won't shut up nor give me a competitive edge on Jeopardy. Grandfather remains sick. Hope dies hard when Christ lives within. Hired for summer job, will finish some tasks at church this summer as well. Truly happiest when surrounded by those who love me for no reason - love me as me. Truly happy.

On Easter

There may be things about me you do not like, doctrines I hold to that you do not approve of, and personal choices I have made that seem irrational to you; but you cannot deny my love of the Savior nor diminish- one iota - his influence on my life.

I went to the tomb this morning, broken and dying. I found it empty, and in finding it so hollow I found again the fulfillment my life so desperately needs. I don't remember whether I fell at his feet and clutched them in my arms or if he had asked not to be touched. I don't remember what physically happened, but I was in his arms. I was wrapped in his love. An empty tomb, a filled heart. I needed on this day to find again the proof of resurrection, today I found it - not only a physical tomb with a literal resurrection, but a church filled to the very brim with Easter people: every last one reminded that our song is Hallelujah. I found not only historical evidence for the empty tomb, but within my own heart the very Christ who eluded the tomb now resides.

You ask me how I know he lives? He lives within my heart. On this tenent I build my faith. The rest I am unsure of; the details are left unresolved. Today I found an empty tomb, today I was reminded of my filled heart.

On losing faith:
"One can believe something to be true, yet have weak or even faulty reasons for doing so. I believe the microwave heats food; I have no idea why or how. Imgaine that I were to encounter an unbelieving professor in the classroom, one who has never used a microwave ... if asked to defend my belief, I could easily be made to look and feel foolish. But, when I get hungry, I will heat my microwaveable, gourmet mac & cheese, while the professor eats a cold, squished PB&J. ... I've used the microwave too many times to question its power.

My entire being, mind and soul, considers Christianity a framework for life that surpasses all others. I agree with former skeptic C.S. Lewis; "I believe in Christianity as I believe that the Sun has risen, not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.

I suppose that someon, somewhere could shoot a hole in my defense or reveal a flaw in my logic. But my standard of faith is not one hundred percent certainty or watertight evidence for every minor point of Christian theology." - Kurt Bruner "I Still Believe."

I need to find an empty tomb tomorrow. I've spent too much time crucifying Christ - and now I need to find that tomb empty.

We take three years of his teachings and reduce it down to a systematic theology so small and narrow that only a select (or elect) few could possibly fit. We follow a homeless preacher who asks us to give up everything we own, who healed indescriminately, who drank with drunkards~laughed with whores~broke bread with tax collectors~ and shook hands with lepers. We get it so wrong, so fucking wrong. All we take from the faith is the understanding that anyone who disagrees with us is wrong and going to Hell. I believe that the path to heaven is narrow and difficult ... I just think the path most Christians are on is pretty smooth and straight.

Tomorrow, I need to find an empty tomb. I need to be reminded that no matter what mess we've made of religion, our Savior still is resurrected from the dead.