I'm struggling with the concept of salvation. I'm just not sure why. Here's an inside look into my thought process. You're welcome.

I realize more and more that I need a definition of salvation that goes beyond an emotional experience at summer camp. Not that my understanding of salvation is wrong, just that it is insufficient. I have a definition that works for me. I'm continually wrestling with the fact that my concept of God is always just big enough for me at this moment.

A friend confesses that he and his girlfriend are having sex and I give him directions to the health clinic. A friend loses her son to drugs and we take her out to make her feel better. I want to do more to serve the kids on campus so I serve coffee at the coffee shop … and I think that all of these things are good … but they fall far short of the good news I believe in my heart. They do little to bring salvation to the people. Perhaps they pay homage to my insufficient concept of salvation.

As a Christian I want to bring salvation to the people. I want to see people saved. But, I don’t … understand … what that … means? Or, I do, for me – but not for others. I’ll know it when I see it? Maybe. Or maybe I'm just tired of the old paradigm and the social stigma surrounding the phrase "get saved." At a funeral I attended recently the pastors prayed the sinners’ prayer four times. Just to make sure that everyone in attendance was saved for sure. "In case there's one person here who has never prayed the sinner's prayer, I'm going to pray it one more time. Just pray with me ..."

I think there’s more to salvation. Or at least at some level I think there's more to salvation. I don’t want to make it more complicated or add extra steps because I don’t believe that is biblical in any way. I believe that to become a Christian you must believe in your heart and confess with your lips that Christ is Lord. I believe that is what scripture teaches. So yes, praying to ask Christ into our hearts is the only step to salvation. I'm unwilling to negotiate any further steps.

My doubt stairs me in the face when I witness. I know all of the "right" answers to all of the questions sinners have. But the pat answers fail to calm my troubled heart - and how can I in good conscience give them to others. I'm okay with my doubt. I believe it's part of my faith and a darn good part. I think I'm less concerned with my doubt and more concerned with the paradigm that salvation is a process of one person who knows all the answers telling an uninformed idiot all the right answers.

Why are most of our salvations among children and most of the salvations in the Bible among adults and families? Could it be that our current paradigm only fits telling the right answers to those who haven't found any answers for themselves?


So maybe I’m glad that the funeral attendees had four opportunities to confess with their lips … perhaps I just wish they had more incentive to believe in their hearts. I feel that heart service should happen before lip service.

I wish people wouldn't choose salvation like they were choosing a new sweater. I wish there was some level other than intellectual and emotional on which we could meet people to offer them salvation.

So ultimately I guess I wrestle with the questions, "How do I bring salvation to the people?" How do I offer peace and hope to a dying world without sounding insensitive and intolerant? How do we present the message in new ways to new hearers? How do we present the good news while allowing room for our own doubt? How do we offer salvation without starting at the conclusion that we have all the right answers?

Why do I always end up with more questions than answers?

Why don't we have any prophets? I mean, how weird would it be if someone was hired by a church to be a prophet?

There's this theory in the business world that you should hire the best and the brightest and not give them a job description. Just let them find a place.

Maybe we do have prophets ... we just don't call them as much.

The 400 Fund

Maybe we just don't give our prophets the credit they deserve.

Dr. Smith, my mentor, and I had a really good conversation on the topic of being an agent of change. He was ominous. He told me that as long as I as a Christian am an agent of change people will not like me. As long as I try and shake things up I will be in the minority. "You'll never be put in a position of power needed to actually make the change, but you will get close enough to make a difference."

I am becoming more and more convinced that serious change needs to happen in the church. I will ponder Dr. Smith's words for a long long time.

I'm enjoying my fall break. Jake Raynor and I drove down to Florida for the weekend. On Friday night we stopped in Macon to have dinner with my friend Brittany. We ended up spending a few hours there and watched the movie "Stardust." Interesting movie.

Jake dropped me off at my grandparent's house and then drove himself to his home in Orlando.

On Saturday the G-units and I went mall walking, sang hymns for several hours, did a crossword puzzle, and went to Golden Corral. Ah, retirement. I also took a two hour nap and organized grandma's coupons for her.

On Sunday we woke early and listened to Jerry Fallwell, Charles Stanley and then went to church and heard why Obama is the anti-Christ. Then we went out for lunch, sang hymns, did a crossword puzzle, and watched the ball game.

Jake picked me up and I'm at his house now. We are going to Universal in a little bit ... which couldn't hope to compare to the pure joy of doing crossword puzzles as a family sport. Haha.

I went to a funeral the other day. We were there to celebrate the life of an adult son of a co-worker of mine. Ben was a little older than me when he died. Beverly was devastated. There are certain rules and norms about behavior at a funeral or a viewing. The bereaved should be polite and formal. "Thank you for coming. Yes, he led a good life. It has been very difficult for the family. Your prayers are appreciated."

Beverly didn't follow any of the rules. She sobbed. She wept. Her whole body shook as tears rolled out of her stomach in audible gasps for air. She looked as though she would collapse from the pain of it all.

Jesus said, "Blessed are those who mourn." And, I don't get that. I don't understand it yet. I feel like I was blessed to see Beverly mourn. It was so refreshing to see someone be so real. I live in the deep south where make-up and big hair rule the land. Real tears are a scarcity. I don't understand how she was blessed, though.

Jesus said so many things that I just don't understand. And, it's not like I just don't have the proper hermeneutic or anything like that. Some of his sayings just don't jive with my life. Like, they weren't meant for me ... or more that those words were meant for someone else on this day and another day they'll be for me.

Maybe Jesus could have said that Blessed are those who get to see honesty. Or Blessed are the honest. Those would make more sense to me on this day. I guess the thing I'm learning right now is that everything doesn't have to make sense.

I come to the awkward realization that my life is less than radical. This shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. This shouldn’t be a surprise to me. I’m comfortable. I’m good. People like me. And, none of these things are bad. I’m glad that I’m a good person. I’m glad people like me. But I feel that my life is missing a certain amount of radicalism.

Now, I’m generally against radicalism. I’m terrified of fundamentalist anythings. I think that the world would be a lot better if everyone would just take one step to the left or right in the direction of center. My life would be better if I could just keep a little bit more center. My life would be easier if everyone around me could just keep a little bit more center.

I wonder some days why I’m good. John M. Patrick said, "He who remains good simply because he must serves necessity, not God." I wonder how often I hold my tongue because I must. Now, I don’t want to be bad. I want to be good. I just want to have the right motivation. I guess I’m just waiting for that proper motivation to fall into place. Am I obeying the rules because I don’t want to get kicked out? Am I being good so I don’t upset my friends?

I want to be more radical in my faith. But, I fear I don’t have many examples of truly radical faith. I have models of well-behaved obedient men and women who happen to be Christians. I have many such models. Most of the people around me follow all of the rules. My friend Janet owns a shirt that reads, “Well behaved women rarely make history.” It’s a great quote, and true of all people. I don’t think that having a radical, vibrant relationship with God is about following all the rules. I think it’s about so much more.

I just don’t know exactly what that “more” is. Well, it’s love. Or Jesus. Or grace. Or whatever buzz-word of the month I’m on. And I mean those words. And I find so much hope in those words and in exploring and trying to understand those words that are so crucial to the life of Christ. But at the end of the day I feel like little more than a nominal Christian. I love God and yet I love myself a lot, too. I want peace but I want to enjoy my sin as well. I want to offer grace but only on my conditions. I want to offer Christ to the homeless and hopeless – I just don’t want to have to smell them.

I’m a little bit stuck. Maybe a lot stuck. My faith is filled with so much doubt, and I’m surrounded by people who have all the answers … but they don’t seem any happier or better for it. I want to be happier or better for it. Whatever this “more” is, I want to be happier or better for it. I want to follow Jesus in a radical way. I’m just trying to find out what that means.

"Love is an act of endless forgiveness." — Jean Vanier…

I went and spoke at St. Paul UMC in Lincolnton, GA on Sunday. I spoke about my mission trip this summer and about community. It was a really fun experience.

I decorated my house for Halloween. I wish there was a super-spiritual meaning behind Halloween (because no one buys the "All Hallows Eve is Christian" line) so I didn't feel so bad that Halloween is probably my favorite holiday. I mean Easter. I love Easter most. I'm a good Christian.

I'm slowly realizing that it's less important what other Christians think about me and infinitely more important what the un-churched around me think. I want to live my life with more freedom and joy ... even if that does piss off a lot of Christians. I have a lot of thinking left to do on the subject. Maybe I'll blog about it.

Maybe.

I'm officially old. I was in Wal-Mart last night waiting for a perscription to be filled and I looked through the poster display. I only understood four of the posters. I didn't even know what the others were about. I didn't know any of the "musicians" and only got the Chuck Norris poster because his show is from my generation.

Yep. That's it. I'm officially old. Well, no need to trim my ear hair or try to keep riding the fashion train. I'm going to go eat some porridge or anything I can find that's a little less spicy than porridge.

Some days it feels like the world is going to collapse. Most days it doesn't. It's weird to hear all the latest talk about the current economic situation.

I think about the things that Jesus said about our money ... he said a lot of things about it.

He said we couldn't worship it.

He said that we didn't need it.

He said we could let it go.

He said a lot more. It makes the scary go away when we read his words.

And I think that today we just need the scary to go away for a little while.