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.