"With one exception, I would hire every member of this class to be part of my mission organization if I was on the board. Unless your paper said something to the effect of,'... [quotes one section of my most recent paper word for word]...' I wouldn't consider you a heretic." - One of my professors.
Yep. I'm officially a heretic. I think they will still let me graduate though.
I'm struggling more and more with identifying what I believe. I know what I believe ... but I don't know if it's good enough for those around (and above) me. I don't know if I care.
It's a weird spot to be.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Adam and I watched one of my favorite movies, Saved!, the other day. He had a difficult time with it because he felt it mocked Christianity.
I have two stories to illustrate something that has been on my heart. We as Christians need to examine our lives. If we as Christians do something that the world cannot handle, we must examine the issue and decide if the world has a problem with our actions because they go against its worldview and the peoples minds are not enlightened by Christ or if we are simply being idiots.
There are things the Christian world believes that the secular world find literally unbelievable. There are things we do that it cannot swallow because it lacks the light of Christ as its very core. Corrie Ten Boom is immortalized because she valued life (the life of others) over her own self.
There are things the Christian world does that are so shocking and so countercultural that the secular world has no response. We canonize Mother Teresa because we cannot fathom the faith that would lead so far away.
There are things the Christian world believes that the secular world finds crazy … because they are crazy. It’s inane to believe that Jesus would be so radically pro-life as to murder an abortion doctor or so worse yet, be so focused on saving fetuses and simultaneously so enamored with making sure every murderer is executed ... just … like … he … was?
There are things the Christian world does that are so shocking that the world stands back in disbelief because our actions are so horrendous. We live in McMansions while most of the world can’t find enough water to survive.
We must examine our actions and see if they shock the secular world because they exemplify Christ or if they do so because the hypocrisy is only hidden from our own eyes.
A friend apologized to me today, he recently decided that he could no longer identify himself as a Christian, but when asked to pray in class he did. He was concerned that I would feel his prayer was irreverent because he didn’t mean it.
Some of my most succinct prayers have been four letters long. Some people have their best prayer moments while having one night stands. I truly believe the most irreverent prayer is one offered by a Christian without any passion behind it. I’ve prayed a few of them. I’ve also prayed some passionate prayers that would make sailors blush. I don’t consider any of those prayer irreverent.
I have two stories to illustrate something that has been on my heart. We as Christians need to examine our lives. If we as Christians do something that the world cannot handle, we must examine the issue and decide if the world has a problem with our actions because they go against its worldview and the peoples minds are not enlightened by Christ or if we are simply being idiots.
There are things the Christian world believes that the secular world find literally unbelievable. There are things we do that it cannot swallow because it lacks the light of Christ as its very core. Corrie Ten Boom is immortalized because she valued life (the life of others) over her own self.
There are things the Christian world does that are so shocking and so countercultural that the secular world has no response. We canonize Mother Teresa because we cannot fathom the faith that would lead so far away.
There are things the Christian world believes that the secular world finds crazy … because they are crazy. It’s inane to believe that Jesus would be so radically pro-life as to murder an abortion doctor or so worse yet, be so focused on saving fetuses and simultaneously so enamored with making sure every murderer is executed ... just … like … he … was?
There are things the Christian world does that are so shocking that the world stands back in disbelief because our actions are so horrendous. We live in McMansions while most of the world can’t find enough water to survive.
We must examine our actions and see if they shock the secular world because they exemplify Christ or if they do so because the hypocrisy is only hidden from our own eyes.
A friend apologized to me today, he recently decided that he could no longer identify himself as a Christian, but when asked to pray in class he did. He was concerned that I would feel his prayer was irreverent because he didn’t mean it.
Some of my most succinct prayers have been four letters long. Some people have their best prayer moments while having one night stands. I truly believe the most irreverent prayer is one offered by a Christian without any passion behind it. I’ve prayed a few of them. I’ve also prayed some passionate prayers that would make sailors blush. I don’t consider any of those prayer irreverent.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
willimon.blogspot.com
Guest-Blogging: Michael Stewart
As part of our Conference-wide celebration of United Methodist believing, I've asked some of our pastors to contribute their thoughts on the joy of the Wesleyan way of Christianity. This week we begin with thoughts on United Methodist "specialness" by Dr. Michael Stewart. Michael is known as one of our outstanding preachers. He formerly directed our Connectional Ministries and is currently pastor of our Hazel Green United Methodist Church.
NOT ALL THAT SPECIAL
Perhaps what makes us Methodists special is that we do not believe we are all that special.
The Roman Catholic Church is older and bigger. Episcopalians and Eastern Orthodox do liturgy with more flair. Presbyterians are more focused on doctrine and scholarship. Quakers are the folks we go to for instruction in prayer. Disciples of Christ are more ecumenically minded. Pentecostals are more exuberant. Baptists are more democratic. The Salvation Army is better with the poor. The Amish are greener. Lutherans are better at pipe organs. The Assemblies of God are more adept at raising up large congregations. Mormons are uniquely American; holding that Jesus’ return will take place in Missouri.
We Methodists do not claim to have invented Christianity. With St. Paul, we simply pass along to others what we first received (I Cor.15: 3).
John Wesley said the Methodist way is nothing new. It is simply the old religion of the Bible: “the love of God and all mankind” and “loving God with all our heart, and soul and strength”.
While every third barbeque joint in the South claims to have “The World’s Best BBQ”, and every touchdown ignites the fans to chant, “We’re number one”; we Methodists are just happy to be here. We have neither an inferiority complex nor an exaggerated view of ourselves as the one true tribe of Christians. We are not offended by Jesus’ saying that he has other sheep not of our fold (John 10:16).
We do not believe for a minute God has to go through us to accomplish every godly thing done in the world. There is not a sectarian bone in our bodies. We are not offended that God’s love can be active in Syrian, Lebanese, or Samaritan pagans (Luke 4:25-27; 10:33). We believe that God can work through the Scouts, public schools, secular universities, politics, the United Way, the Red Cross, country music, and our enemies. Methodists do not retreat to a religious subculture; but take seriously the incarnation and immanence of God in the world, calling it prevenient grace.
At our best we are not anxious or fearful, but trust God. We believe as a denomination that we will be fine as long as we keep aiming to love God more, and extend concrete acts of mercy to more neighbors. John Wesley even gave us our own Serenity Prayer:
Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee,
exalted for thee or brought low for thee.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
Eugene Peterson, translator of The Message and author of The Jesus Way notes that America is a nation of consumers. Consequently, the quickest way to get Americans into congregations is to identify what people want, and offer it to them. He writes that the winning strategy is to “satisfy their fancies, promise them the moon, recast the gospel in consumer terms: entertainment, satisfaction, excitement, adventure, problem-solving, whatever.” The only problem is that this is not the way of Jesus.” (The Jesus Way, pg.6.)
Is it a coincidence that Methodists stopped growing numerically in the 1960’s when our national church leaders went against the grain of America and challenged racism and war? Telling people what they do not want to hear is probably not a great strategy for church growth in a consumer culture.
The good news is that our decline may finally put us in a place God can do something with us. As long as we imagined we must have been serving God because we were so special (“More Methodists serving in Congress than any other denomination!”) or because our success could be measured in our membership numbers or the height of our steeples, God could not do much with us. But perhaps in our weakness, and in the need to depend on God’s grace rather than our own performance, God can work with us. As it becomes less about us, it can become more about Jesus.
Consider the African-American Church in the mid 1960’s. It was not wealthy. Most of it buildings were modest. Its membership contained few corporate CEO’s, bank presidents, mayors, governors, or captains of industry. Nonetheless, in spite of statistical weakness, the Black church was the most faithful part of Christ’s church in America in that day. The little cinderblock and wood-frame Black churches rose higher than the big steepled churches, and made an astonishing kingdom witness. God can do mighty things through what the world counts as weakness. After all, God did his best work with some slaves in Egypt led by a tongue-tied shepherd, and with some fishermen in Galilee led by a tortured and executed criminal.
Perhaps the best way to serve a crucified and risen leader in an America addicted to Super-sizing and Superpower-ing is not to bemoan or resist diminishment, or frantically embrace every technique that works in selling products, making money, managing people, winning wars, or manipulating emotions. (Peterson, p. 8.). Rather, in following the way of the cross - being generous and forgiving even in our weakness - we might hear the dying cross-bearer say, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." And therefore, “we can boast all the more gladly about our weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on us.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)
Our neighbors across town and across the world are dying for a genuine, authentic, honest, humble, non-gimmicky, servant church that is in the process of giving itself away, just like its Lord. The world is dying for a church that knows it is not all that special, but that its Lord is the real deal.
And, who knows? God may then have in us something that is indeed special, and worth resurrecting.
Michael Stewart
michael.stewart@hazelgreen.org
January, 2008
As part of our Conference-wide celebration of United Methodist believing, I've asked some of our pastors to contribute their thoughts on the joy of the Wesleyan way of Christianity. This week we begin with thoughts on United Methodist "specialness" by Dr. Michael Stewart. Michael is known as one of our outstanding preachers. He formerly directed our Connectional Ministries and is currently pastor of our Hazel Green United Methodist Church.
NOT ALL THAT SPECIAL
Perhaps what makes us Methodists special is that we do not believe we are all that special.
The Roman Catholic Church is older and bigger. Episcopalians and Eastern Orthodox do liturgy with more flair. Presbyterians are more focused on doctrine and scholarship. Quakers are the folks we go to for instruction in prayer. Disciples of Christ are more ecumenically minded. Pentecostals are more exuberant. Baptists are more democratic. The Salvation Army is better with the poor. The Amish are greener. Lutherans are better at pipe organs. The Assemblies of God are more adept at raising up large congregations. Mormons are uniquely American; holding that Jesus’ return will take place in Missouri.
We Methodists do not claim to have invented Christianity. With St. Paul, we simply pass along to others what we first received (I Cor.15: 3).
John Wesley said the Methodist way is nothing new. It is simply the old religion of the Bible: “the love of God and all mankind” and “loving God with all our heart, and soul and strength”.
While every third barbeque joint in the South claims to have “The World’s Best BBQ”, and every touchdown ignites the fans to chant, “We’re number one”; we Methodists are just happy to be here. We have neither an inferiority complex nor an exaggerated view of ourselves as the one true tribe of Christians. We are not offended by Jesus’ saying that he has other sheep not of our fold (John 10:16).
We do not believe for a minute God has to go through us to accomplish every godly thing done in the world. There is not a sectarian bone in our bodies. We are not offended that God’s love can be active in Syrian, Lebanese, or Samaritan pagans (Luke 4:25-27; 10:33). We believe that God can work through the Scouts, public schools, secular universities, politics, the United Way, the Red Cross, country music, and our enemies. Methodists do not retreat to a religious subculture; but take seriously the incarnation and immanence of God in the world, calling it prevenient grace.
At our best we are not anxious or fearful, but trust God. We believe as a denomination that we will be fine as long as we keep aiming to love God more, and extend concrete acts of mercy to more neighbors. John Wesley even gave us our own Serenity Prayer:
Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee,
exalted for thee or brought low for thee.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
Eugene Peterson, translator of The Message and author of The Jesus Way notes that America is a nation of consumers. Consequently, the quickest way to get Americans into congregations is to identify what people want, and offer it to them. He writes that the winning strategy is to “satisfy their fancies, promise them the moon, recast the gospel in consumer terms: entertainment, satisfaction, excitement, adventure, problem-solving, whatever.” The only problem is that this is not the way of Jesus.” (The Jesus Way, pg.6.)
Is it a coincidence that Methodists stopped growing numerically in the 1960’s when our national church leaders went against the grain of America and challenged racism and war? Telling people what they do not want to hear is probably not a great strategy for church growth in a consumer culture.
The good news is that our decline may finally put us in a place God can do something with us. As long as we imagined we must have been serving God because we were so special (“More Methodists serving in Congress than any other denomination!”) or because our success could be measured in our membership numbers or the height of our steeples, God could not do much with us. But perhaps in our weakness, and in the need to depend on God’s grace rather than our own performance, God can work with us. As it becomes less about us, it can become more about Jesus.
Consider the African-American Church in the mid 1960’s. It was not wealthy. Most of it buildings were modest. Its membership contained few corporate CEO’s, bank presidents, mayors, governors, or captains of industry. Nonetheless, in spite of statistical weakness, the Black church was the most faithful part of Christ’s church in America in that day. The little cinderblock and wood-frame Black churches rose higher than the big steepled churches, and made an astonishing kingdom witness. God can do mighty things through what the world counts as weakness. After all, God did his best work with some slaves in Egypt led by a tongue-tied shepherd, and with some fishermen in Galilee led by a tortured and executed criminal.
Perhaps the best way to serve a crucified and risen leader in an America addicted to Super-sizing and Superpower-ing is not to bemoan or resist diminishment, or frantically embrace every technique that works in selling products, making money, managing people, winning wars, or manipulating emotions. (Peterson, p. 8.). Rather, in following the way of the cross - being generous and forgiving even in our weakness - we might hear the dying cross-bearer say, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." And therefore, “we can boast all the more gladly about our weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on us.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)
Our neighbors across town and across the world are dying for a genuine, authentic, honest, humble, non-gimmicky, servant church that is in the process of giving itself away, just like its Lord. The world is dying for a church that knows it is not all that special, but that its Lord is the real deal.
And, who knows? God may then have in us something that is indeed special, and worth resurrecting.
Michael Stewart
michael.stewart@hazelgreen.org
January, 2008
Monday, February 04, 2008
We forget that salvation is an act that moves far beyond our finite understanding. The truly salvivic nature of the creator God is seen in both the giving of His son and in the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. In our attempts to categorize this truly mystical experience we effectively reduce the mystery of God’s saving power to fit our feeble minds. We give hurting people the “sinners’ prayer” which I have derided often and openly. We set a date, a time, a moment – we reduce the workings of God in the fullness of our lives to the very second we finished the “amen” of the blessed words.
Sara went to a conservative Southern Baptist church today. She had lunch with the pastor, the father of a friend. When the news of her friend David’s new-found homosexuality came up the pastor told her that he just needs to get saved. Sara explained to the pastor that her friend is already saved and that he loves the Lord. This, obviously, flies in the face of the sacred truths held so firmly by that pastor.
The reductionist view of salvation ponders whether one can lose his or her salvation. It attempts to draw a line between “us” and “them”. It fears Hell and longs for the comfort of Heaven. It puts the good deeds on one side and the misdeeds on another and prays that good has won out. It believes that a sexually active pervert can’t be saved – if he can stay in his sin and still be saved why the hell are we still trying so hard to ward off sin.
If salvation is a moment in time, it is worthless. If salvation is a lifestyle, a holy mystery, a longing and desire it is worth eternity. When salvation becomes the completion of a prayer, a box checked on a card, or the formulaic finishing of a well rehearsed, ritualized system we have reduced God to something we can handle. God is not something we can handle.
Salvation isn’t about the afterlife. Salvation is about life; full and eternal. As a Christian I believe that the fullest way to experience God is through His son, Jesus the Christ. I have walked in a personal relationship with Christ for more than a decade. Most days I live with doubt and fear; all days I live with Christ. I prayed the sinners’ prayer, yes, but I can’t claim that as “the moment of my salvation.” I can’t claim any specific moment. There have been moments(, days, weeks, months) in which I have chosen my selfish, stupid desires over God. These are my moments of salvation.
I came to a realization this week. When we as Christians fall, we fall into the lap of God. I’ve always visualized my failures as a dramatic fall from the palm of God toward the nothingness of Hell. I’ve imagined wrong. When I have fallen, when my sin became so big that I wanted it more than God – I have fallen into His lap. This is part of the mystery; one that I can no longer deny.
Salvation is a journey and a mystery. Come, walk and question with me.
Sara went to a conservative Southern Baptist church today. She had lunch with the pastor, the father of a friend. When the news of her friend David’s new-found homosexuality came up the pastor told her that he just needs to get saved. Sara explained to the pastor that her friend is already saved and that he loves the Lord. This, obviously, flies in the face of the sacred truths held so firmly by that pastor.
The reductionist view of salvation ponders whether one can lose his or her salvation. It attempts to draw a line between “us” and “them”. It fears Hell and longs for the comfort of Heaven. It puts the good deeds on one side and the misdeeds on another and prays that good has won out. It believes that a sexually active pervert can’t be saved – if he can stay in his sin and still be saved why the hell are we still trying so hard to ward off sin.
If salvation is a moment in time, it is worthless. If salvation is a lifestyle, a holy mystery, a longing and desire it is worth eternity. When salvation becomes the completion of a prayer, a box checked on a card, or the formulaic finishing of a well rehearsed, ritualized system we have reduced God to something we can handle. God is not something we can handle.
Salvation isn’t about the afterlife. Salvation is about life; full and eternal. As a Christian I believe that the fullest way to experience God is through His son, Jesus the Christ. I have walked in a personal relationship with Christ for more than a decade. Most days I live with doubt and fear; all days I live with Christ. I prayed the sinners’ prayer, yes, but I can’t claim that as “the moment of my salvation.” I can’t claim any specific moment. There have been moments(, days, weeks, months) in which I have chosen my selfish, stupid desires over God. These are my moments of salvation.
I came to a realization this week. When we as Christians fall, we fall into the lap of God. I’ve always visualized my failures as a dramatic fall from the palm of God toward the nothingness of Hell. I’ve imagined wrong. When I have fallen, when my sin became so big that I wanted it more than God – I have fallen into His lap. This is part of the mystery; one that I can no longer deny.
Salvation is a journey and a mystery. Come, walk and question with me.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Do you ever have the sensation where you begin to think about something, but you realize that if your mind continues down that road for too long it will completely change your life ... so you stop thinking about it?
Yeah, I've been doing that a lot lately. It's always a weird feeling.
I'm in a bit of a slump right now - I don't want to do anything. I just don't have any will to accomplish anything. I'll probably schedule a time with the counselor before it's all said and done.
I think that my biggest problem is the wide disconnect between my dreams and the reality. I want to accomplish so much, but I feel like I accomplish so little most days.
I feel that this school is the most suffocating place in the world for my dreams.
Yeah, I've been doing that a lot lately. It's always a weird feeling.
I'm in a bit of a slump right now - I don't want to do anything. I just don't have any will to accomplish anything. I'll probably schedule a time with the counselor before it's all said and done.
I think that my biggest problem is the wide disconnect between my dreams and the reality. I want to accomplish so much, but I feel like I accomplish so little most days.
I feel that this school is the most suffocating place in the world for my dreams.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
I'm sorry ...
... that I don't live out what I believe.
... that I don't love like I should,
... that I hit you, even though I was only joking,
... that my reflection looks a lot like me and nothing like Christ.
... that you have to see me like this,
... that I call you to complain about shit.
... that you cheated on your wife,
... that I caught you,
... that I can't forgive you,
... that I, too am unforgiveable.
... that we became more than friends.
... that I'm not the role model I want to be,
... that my doubts outweigh my faith, daily,
... that I don't call you on your sin.
... that you love skateboarding more than Jesus,
... that I make fun of you for being pale,
... that I have never told you about Jesus.
I'm sorry, that I can't tell you this to your faces.
... that I don't live out what I believe.
... that I don't love like I should,
... that I hit you, even though I was only joking,
... that my reflection looks a lot like me and nothing like Christ.
... that you have to see me like this,
... that I call you to complain about shit.
... that you cheated on your wife,
... that I caught you,
... that I can't forgive you,
... that I, too am unforgiveable.
... that we became more than friends.
... that I'm not the role model I want to be,
... that my doubts outweigh my faith, daily,
... that I don't call you on your sin.
... that you love skateboarding more than Jesus,
... that I make fun of you for being pale,
... that I have never told you about Jesus.
I'm sorry, that I can't tell you this to your faces.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
I feel sometimes that cat people have a better understanding of grace. We love our cats because they're there. There is some element of companionship, but really, cats don't do anything.
Cats will never save Timmy from the well, alert you to the barn fire, or accomplish any other ridiculous task to earn your love. Cats simply couldn't care less if you like them or not.
I love my cat because I want to express my love. Even when my cat refuses my love I will still love him. He doesn't give me kisses or fetch me the paper. He will never make an attempt at earning my love. He knows I love him. He understands that he doesn't have to earn it.
Cats will never save Timmy from the well, alert you to the barn fire, or accomplish any other ridiculous task to earn your love. Cats simply couldn't care less if you like them or not.
I love my cat because I want to express my love. Even when my cat refuses my love I will still love him. He doesn't give me kisses or fetch me the paper. He will never make an attempt at earning my love. He knows I love him. He understands that he doesn't have to earn it.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Sunday, January 06, 2008
I held a birthday dinner in my own honor. It was important to me to gather my friends together and celebrate my birth. My parents, of course, had to foot the bill. I invited six of my closest friends to the nicest steak restaurant in the area. I had made it quite clear that I would be paying (with my parent's credit card.) My friends, however, had missed that little detail. I declared that I would be eating the ribeye and asked my friends what they would be getting. Rachel wanted a salad, Ricky was going to get french fries, and Adam was going to order a water. I was so upset at them - I had told them to get whatever they wanted and explained that I would be paying for it. Maybe they hadn't believed me or maybe they didn't want to be a financial bother; but either way I had to explain that the dinner was my parent's gift to me. I had to elaborate on the point that I would be offended if they ordered anything less than steak.
Sometimes we fail to remember that Christ has paid the eternal price and that we have nothing to offer on our own. Too many Christians, failing to understand that God offers the steak of a lifetime, end up eating the french fries and water of their own efforts. I wonder if God is as offended as I was.
(We all enjoyed our steak!)
I had to sit through a two hour lecture on why mainline denominations such as the United Methodist Church were failing to uphold the gospel. I was so offended, not because the professor had dissed my denomenation, but because of his ignorance. The United Methodist Church daily holds up the gospel around the world. In my church in Toccoa, there is a woman who every week fills the communion bowl with water so that it is ready in case someone comes forward to be baptized. We are a church that upholds the gospel message and is ready and prepared at all times.
Sometimes we fail to remember that Christ has paid the eternal price and that we have nothing to offer on our own. Too many Christians, failing to understand that God offers the steak of a lifetime, end up eating the french fries and water of their own efforts. I wonder if God is as offended as I was.
(We all enjoyed our steak!)
I had to sit through a two hour lecture on why mainline denominations such as the United Methodist Church were failing to uphold the gospel. I was so offended, not because the professor had dissed my denomenation, but because of his ignorance. The United Methodist Church daily holds up the gospel around the world. In my church in Toccoa, there is a woman who every week fills the communion bowl with water so that it is ready in case someone comes forward to be baptized. We are a church that upholds the gospel message and is ready and prepared at all times.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Danny and I were talking, the other day, about getting in trouble at church. Danny grew up in the church, but he grew rebellious during his youth. Funny story. Danny had to apologize to the elders for chewing snuff during the living nativity scene.
Me: Well, were you someone important like Joseph?
Danny: No, I was a shepherd. I was just playing the part.
Me: A shepherd would have definitely chewed tobacco.
Danny: I know. We beat up the kid who told on us.
Me: Was he a skinny little punk?
Danny: Yeah. We cornered him.
I couldn’t agree more. A shepherd would have chewed and probably would have beat up any skinny, tattling punk.
Me: Well, were you someone important like Joseph?
Danny: No, I was a shepherd. I was just playing the part.
Me: A shepherd would have definitely chewed tobacco.
Danny: I know. We beat up the kid who told on us.
Me: Was he a skinny little punk?
Danny: Yeah. We cornered him.
I couldn’t agree more. A shepherd would have chewed and probably would have beat up any skinny, tattling punk.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Christmas in the Empire. - Bishop William H. Willimon.
It's strange to hear a prophetic voice in this day and age.
It's strange to hear a prophetic voice in this day and age.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
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."
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."
Thursday, December 20, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
"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
Bishop Tom Bickerton
Friday, December 07, 2007
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.
Monday, December 03, 2007
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?
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?
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