Have you ever joined something that you regretted weeks later? I have done this on numerous occasions, generally because I can't say "no". At Moody every floor of guys has a "sister floor" of girls. I was asked to lead worship for a "brother-sister" worship time that we would have each week. Harmless right? All of the guys would head over with me, I'd sing some pretty songs about Jesus and be on my way. Wrong. It wouldn't have been bad had there been other guys there, but more often than not, the guys in our group were always outnumbered by the rigid, skirt-wearing, turtle-neck toting Moody girls (sarcasm). And so here I am, volunteering to spiritually entertain this group of Christians that doesn't know the first thing about the world that surrounds them. It wasn't long till I was googling "excuses" to try to get out of this mess.
However as much as I was frustrated with the situation, I can never say that I was ashamed of the picture of "worship" that that group was presenting. It seems like the majority of the things that we disassociate from, we do so for convenience sake. Stop a sport because it demands time, stop an instrument because we won't succeed, but rarely is there disassociation because of an improper knowledge or interpretation of the given subject. I say all of that to say this, I am disassociating from Christianity. And not the Christianity that the Bible teaches, but the Christianity that has clogged the arteries of the body of Christ. The Christianity that is pinching the nerves of grace and love making sure that we don't allow too much of it to escape. The Christianity that finds it more important to judge the sinful, the ones on welfare, or gay-marriage, to angrily dismiss politics as "ruining our country", than to show love to the poor, sick, and equally sinful as them. I am disassociating.
Jenny and I sat down to dinner with a couple last night. The girl was a social worker in Chicago. She's seen some things. The guy was in a construction management position in the city. They aren't married, but living together, and both come from Christian homes...one loving, one not. The girl was our subject of interest, she had mentioned that she had a lot of questions. Although she could only remember the ones about dinosaurs, we began dealing with issues that carried more emotional weight than words can do justice. Apparently her cheating, lying, abusive father was a Christian, and considered himself the source of all things Christian. He told her that she couldn't think homosexuality was okay and be a Christian. He has been through 5 wives, and always cheats. When using the word "freaking" he told her he didn't want to be around such vulgarity.
Apparently, our disassociation from immorality is what defines a Christian. It appears that as long as we, as Christians, speak out strong enough against cultural issues, point out sin at any opportunity, and provide ample biblical proof that each immoral topic is sin, we have fulfilled our destiny as Christians. However, this is a far cry from the message that Jesus preached. Culture and immorality didn't pay in the time of Jesus. Religious leaders and their terrible motives is what paid during the time of Jesus, and from within the "immoral" (as if this were some exclusive group) is where Jesus found his friends. Yes friends. Not evangelistic projects, or possible converts, friends. For us to ever actually reach out to the hurting people that are around us, they must not feel like projects, converts, sinners, cultural viruses, or anything else. For us to reach them, they must feel like friends. I apologized to the girl, for her father who didn't know better, for Jesus, since I think he would have apologized too, and for every other Christian that is tired of being painted with the same stroke as all other Christians. We chatted the rest of the evening, and decided we would hang out at a later time, as friends. And whether we like it or not, Christians don't do that. So I am disassociating.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Colombia Trip - Final Day
What is it that we humans fear with intimacy? Is it the risk or is it the vulnerability itself that we fear. I know that I certainly am embarrassed of myself at times, not necessarily confident, not necessarily sure of who I am or where I should be going. However, if it is through this one-to-one validation that we inject security and certainty into the hearts of those around us, how is it that we find so many people with so many broken relationships. And more so, people that want nothing to do with relationships. Because, I firmly believe that God created each of us with a profound desire within the depths of our DNA to be loved by HIM. Since sin crept in this desire has been transformed into a desire to be liked, accepted, beautiful, and popular. There are many of my generation that are coming to this same conclusion, but certainly not enough. I mean I know that I am always searching for approval, affirmation, and someone else to brag about me.
Ultimately then, one could say that our fear of intimacy with one another, is derived directly from our fear of intimacy with God. I like to think that I am fully open with God, but there is a lot that I keep from Him. I tell Him just enough so that he can keep tabs on my life, take control when necessary, and be there with a spade and a bag for when I screw up. Aside from that, I keep Him at an arms length, just in case there is something else. I know that God is supposed to be my “Dad”, the dad with no screw-ups, no faults, always caring, but what if I feel like I had that dad already? I have no complaints of the father that I have so how is God supposed to sweep in and all of the sudden be my father. There was always comfort in knowing that I had a really good father, but he was human. And one day I would be able to walk out, make my own choices, mistakes, and failures, and if I ever wanted to I could always hide it from Him. Even more, my dad could give me solid advice, but he could never facilitate change in me, he couldn’t orchestrate events so as to make things happen. If I disclose my soul to God, I am giving Him license to do whatever he deems best in the situation. I feel like I can’t talk to God without handing over situations to Him. If I genuinely ask Him what he thinks about Jenny and I going to the mission field, I fear he will send me. If I actually tell Him I trust Him with my marriage, what will he take me through? And so through all of this I am in some kind of trance that I control things. I mean I know that God loves me, but within the idea of intimacy there is a need for trust…and maybe this is what I fear.
I always heard the song Jesus loves me and felt like it was full of narcissism. I mean honestly…an entire song about how Jesus loves me…I am bad enough at loving him, why should I waste time singing about how He loves me. But it hit me the other day that, it is because he loves me that I can disclose these things. Sure, without Jesus, God feels enormous, controlling, judgmental, but he is not that way. And God did not orchestrate history so that he would be communicated that way, he actually did the complete opposite. He gives his people hundreds of chances, and then, when you think they are all up, he launched Jesus onto the scene. With Jesus I feel secure, like he has what’s best. With Jesus I feel like a kid again. Holding Jesus’ hand frees me to disclose those things that I hold so closely to my heart. And the scariest thing is that the key to my spiritual success is that Jesus loves me, this I know. Yes, Jesus loves me, the Bible tells me so.
I guess we all fear this intimacy to some extent. While my fear is more towards the God who created intimacy. Robbie told us today about the many conversations he has had with is father. Each time that he wants to talk about what he’s learning about being a man, needing his father, and the love that he still has for his over-worked and under-loving father, his dad starts in on some catholic radio program he heard, changing the topic entirely. Stories like that make me cringe. I want everyone to feel genuine fatherly love. Like the love I felt from my dad, I’m just a little scared of God’s still.
Ultimately then, one could say that our fear of intimacy with one another, is derived directly from our fear of intimacy with God. I like to think that I am fully open with God, but there is a lot that I keep from Him. I tell Him just enough so that he can keep tabs on my life, take control when necessary, and be there with a spade and a bag for when I screw up. Aside from that, I keep Him at an arms length, just in case there is something else. I know that God is supposed to be my “Dad”, the dad with no screw-ups, no faults, always caring, but what if I feel like I had that dad already? I have no complaints of the father that I have so how is God supposed to sweep in and all of the sudden be my father. There was always comfort in knowing that I had a really good father, but he was human. And one day I would be able to walk out, make my own choices, mistakes, and failures, and if I ever wanted to I could always hide it from Him. Even more, my dad could give me solid advice, but he could never facilitate change in me, he couldn’t orchestrate events so as to make things happen. If I disclose my soul to God, I am giving Him license to do whatever he deems best in the situation. I feel like I can’t talk to God without handing over situations to Him. If I genuinely ask Him what he thinks about Jenny and I going to the mission field, I fear he will send me. If I actually tell Him I trust Him with my marriage, what will he take me through? And so through all of this I am in some kind of trance that I control things. I mean I know that God loves me, but within the idea of intimacy there is a need for trust…and maybe this is what I fear.
I always heard the song Jesus loves me and felt like it was full of narcissism. I mean honestly…an entire song about how Jesus loves me…I am bad enough at loving him, why should I waste time singing about how He loves me. But it hit me the other day that, it is because he loves me that I can disclose these things. Sure, without Jesus, God feels enormous, controlling, judgmental, but he is not that way. And God did not orchestrate history so that he would be communicated that way, he actually did the complete opposite. He gives his people hundreds of chances, and then, when you think they are all up, he launched Jesus onto the scene. With Jesus I feel secure, like he has what’s best. With Jesus I feel like a kid again. Holding Jesus’ hand frees me to disclose those things that I hold so closely to my heart. And the scariest thing is that the key to my spiritual success is that Jesus loves me, this I know. Yes, Jesus loves me, the Bible tells me so.
I guess we all fear this intimacy to some extent. While my fear is more towards the God who created intimacy. Robbie told us today about the many conversations he has had with is father. Each time that he wants to talk about what he’s learning about being a man, needing his father, and the love that he still has for his over-worked and under-loving father, his dad starts in on some catholic radio program he heard, changing the topic entirely. Stories like that make me cringe. I want everyone to feel genuine fatherly love. Like the love I felt from my dad, I’m just a little scared of God’s still.
Colombia Trip - Day 2
11/4
9:30pm
We woke up ridiculously early. Much earlier than needed, it was sometime between 5 and 6. We arrived at the church at 6:15…the rest didn’t arrive until 6:45. We worked hard, but through much typical conflict. Even on the mission field you find churches whose wheels have burned a hole into the soil they are trying to move from. No matter how fast you spin the wheels, you can’t seem to get free.
When we were on our pastoral retreat a few weeks back the same kind of thing happened. John was trying to pull the van out of the parking lot and he decided to drive through the land-owners grass. Little did he know that it was VERY muddy. He thought it was bright to keep hitting the gas, and the wheels spun and spun like a kid on a merry-go-round, and they too hummed with thrill and excitement. Finally, he asked for help. A couple of us loaded up on the back and pushed the van free…we drove away muddy, but we drove away.
All that to be said, we encountered this with how we were going to set up the auditorium. Apparently it was a big deal that it faced East/West instead of North/South, I don’t know if it is some kind of ancient Colombian dance ritual, or just pastoral preference, but eventually our arrogant American logic won out and we got our way.
I am finding more and more that the rest of the world is carrying much emotional baggage in regards to the USA. First off, as clarified by our host missionary tonight, he was born in Colombia, but he too is American…South American. Who are we to have claimed elite use of the term? However, there is this ere of pride that each of us walk around with that can’t be removed and can’t even be camouflaged as ignorant tourism. Of course, that is every person that has been touched by the effects of sin. But once again I am curious, how would Jesus rectify almost 250 years of arrogance that has bursted from the American borders? Were the people of Israel considered arrogant? I know that the religious were, and Jesus did all that he could to distance himself from them. It seems that it is through that idea of intra-personal validation that one American can breach the long, gnarled arms of the American stereo-type.
Nonetheless, we provided enough valid reason to set it up the way we wanted to. Not exactly the way we wanted it to happen, but there were Colombians that were happy with us. It seems that even in the healthiest of settings, there is still some kind of hold preventing the progression of the church. If its music, pews, stage placement or any other of a plethora of options, too much of evangelicalism has become steeped in tradition. “We can’t put the screens there!” “Why did you set up rows of 10, I specifically said 8?!” For some reason we firmly believe deep in our psyche that once all of the methodology has finally been perfected the Spirit will enter and work. How have we come so far from what the early church described to us as church?
Later on in the evening I was able to sit down at the table and get my laptop out, hoping to do some journaling. As I kept attempting to open up my journal this annoying Colombian named Emilio kept asking me personal questions. “How many brothers do you have?” “Does your brother know Jesus?”…Apparently my sharp, quick-witted responses didn’t suffice his need to be validated by Jesus Christ through me, imagine that, me not giving enough time to someone. Finally, mainly out of frustration, I shut my laptop and began to answer his questions. Something strange happened, the room seemed to focus around us, almost embracing us, and although it was always him and I in the room, the intimacy grew to an uncomfortable level. We began talking about the American church, and all of it’s troubles. We then began talking about his conversion and strong desire to see his catholic family come to Christ. What an earnest love for the message of Jesus did this man have! Something amazing was happening, the spirit of Jesus Christ incarnate was flowing between the two of us and completely surrounding us as we shared truths from scripture and from our lives uplifting each others souls so as to provide strength to continue on in this faith.
What’s really interesting, is that we didn’t care where the chairs were, or what direction we were facing, where we put the baptismal, or if the guitar was too loud…what we wanted to know was the Spirit of Christ that was found in one another. I felt validated by Emilio. And he by me. And that’s how you get the wheels moving.
9:30pm
We woke up ridiculously early. Much earlier than needed, it was sometime between 5 and 6. We arrived at the church at 6:15…the rest didn’t arrive until 6:45. We worked hard, but through much typical conflict. Even on the mission field you find churches whose wheels have burned a hole into the soil they are trying to move from. No matter how fast you spin the wheels, you can’t seem to get free.
When we were on our pastoral retreat a few weeks back the same kind of thing happened. John was trying to pull the van out of the parking lot and he decided to drive through the land-owners grass. Little did he know that it was VERY muddy. He thought it was bright to keep hitting the gas, and the wheels spun and spun like a kid on a merry-go-round, and they too hummed with thrill and excitement. Finally, he asked for help. A couple of us loaded up on the back and pushed the van free…we drove away muddy, but we drove away.
All that to be said, we encountered this with how we were going to set up the auditorium. Apparently it was a big deal that it faced East/West instead of North/South, I don’t know if it is some kind of ancient Colombian dance ritual, or just pastoral preference, but eventually our arrogant American logic won out and we got our way.
I am finding more and more that the rest of the world is carrying much emotional baggage in regards to the USA. First off, as clarified by our host missionary tonight, he was born in Colombia, but he too is American…South American. Who are we to have claimed elite use of the term? However, there is this ere of pride that each of us walk around with that can’t be removed and can’t even be camouflaged as ignorant tourism. Of course, that is every person that has been touched by the effects of sin. But once again I am curious, how would Jesus rectify almost 250 years of arrogance that has bursted from the American borders? Were the people of Israel considered arrogant? I know that the religious were, and Jesus did all that he could to distance himself from them. It seems that it is through that idea of intra-personal validation that one American can breach the long, gnarled arms of the American stereo-type.
Nonetheless, we provided enough valid reason to set it up the way we wanted to. Not exactly the way we wanted it to happen, but there were Colombians that were happy with us. It seems that even in the healthiest of settings, there is still some kind of hold preventing the progression of the church. If its music, pews, stage placement or any other of a plethora of options, too much of evangelicalism has become steeped in tradition. “We can’t put the screens there!” “Why did you set up rows of 10, I specifically said 8?!” For some reason we firmly believe deep in our psyche that once all of the methodology has finally been perfected the Spirit will enter and work. How have we come so far from what the early church described to us as church?
Later on in the evening I was able to sit down at the table and get my laptop out, hoping to do some journaling. As I kept attempting to open up my journal this annoying Colombian named Emilio kept asking me personal questions. “How many brothers do you have?” “Does your brother know Jesus?”…Apparently my sharp, quick-witted responses didn’t suffice his need to be validated by Jesus Christ through me, imagine that, me not giving enough time to someone. Finally, mainly out of frustration, I shut my laptop and began to answer his questions. Something strange happened, the room seemed to focus around us, almost embracing us, and although it was always him and I in the room, the intimacy grew to an uncomfortable level. We began talking about the American church, and all of it’s troubles. We then began talking about his conversion and strong desire to see his catholic family come to Christ. What an earnest love for the message of Jesus did this man have! Something amazing was happening, the spirit of Jesus Christ incarnate was flowing between the two of us and completely surrounding us as we shared truths from scripture and from our lives uplifting each others souls so as to provide strength to continue on in this faith.
What’s really interesting, is that we didn’t care where the chairs were, or what direction we were facing, where we put the baptismal, or if the guitar was too loud…what we wanted to know was the Spirit of Christ that was found in one another. I felt validated by Emilio. And he by me. And that’s how you get the wheels moving.
Colombia Trip - Day 1
11/3
10:15am
We arrived at the airport this morning in Chicago. Made it to the “self-service” check-in, which is a phenomenal invention for the impatient movement of modern-day America. Irony whipped its tail at us as the boarding pass printer couldn’t spit out our stubs quick enough. There are probably no more arrogant American terms than “self-service”. However, the unplanned stop provided for conversation with those around us. We were able to exhibit patience with Kimberly, the desk worker. And a lady pegged us as doing missions work. We didn’t have any special “Jesus words” that were being shared together. Apparently three touristy looking men carrying drum heads and laptops screams mission work. Security was uneventful, and we are still waiting to take off.
All the while I am feeling like I have spent every flying opportunity that I have trying to figure out what it means to be Jesus in these situations. Will people just know? Should I talk to the guy next to me? But, what if he’s using the entire armrest!?! I mean if I truly possess the spirit of Jesus incarnate in my body, shouldn’t that change the way I view the people around me. All talking, eating their Burrito Beach, or reading their magazines…shouldn’t they know that there is more to this? I mean, I am flying to Colombia to tell people about Jesus, what is wrong with Gate K5, don’t they deserve it too? Who am I to tell them though, I don’t understand it. I don’t get praying, or why Jesus did what he did or said what he said. And the Holy Spirit, I couldn’t even begin to explain what he does, or where he is. So what could I honestly bring? I am progressively realizing, though, that everyone of us has the same questions, but very few are actually willing to ask them. Instead of actually believing we convince ourselves that we believe, which is belief in an entirely lesser being, our own logic. Back to Gate K5 though, I am sure they have questions…how do I get them to ask? Do I ask first? Because here is the problem, Colombia comes and goes…but I find myself in a different Gate K5 everyday. I can be Jesus in Colombia, I mean I am white so I already stand out. I guess all I can consistently do is pray, with all of my ignorance in the topic itself. God, help me to be Jesus at Gate K5. The funny thing is, God doesn’t want anything else. In prayer I rely solely on Him. Anything else is lesser. Anything else is self-service.
4:25
We arrived in Miami. It was a fairly uneventful flight, aside from the woman that I caught after she tripped over my foot. We walked what seemed like across the country to reach our terminal, but lo and behold, we arrived. One more flight, 3 hours, and we will be in Colombia.
I have been thinking more about this whole “what about the Gate K5 people?” and I think that I am coming to a conclusion. Each individual’s spiritual influence has less to do with the people they reach, and more to do with how they handle the interactions provided to them. I mean if we are honest, tracts, 4 spiritual laws, and personal evangelism as we know it is unattractive and quite frankly repulsive to the average individual. And the bottom line is that no one person is going to revolutionize the world. Thought still processing…to be continued.
A guy named Michael came into my office a few weeks back searching for “genuine community”. He was 33 years old, long, slick black hair, and an untrimmed beard. He wore a faded, dirty v-neck t-shirt, and rustic, khaki corduroys. He had been kicked out of his apartment the week before and had broken off all ties with friends and family. To this day I don’t know if by genuine community he meant $20 for lunch, or a legitimate friendship, however it was the latter that I attempted to offer Him. We bumped into each other fairly regularly over the course of the next couple of weeks, all the while trying to establish the kind of trust he had dismissed as “nearly impossible to create quickly”. Frustration, impatience, anger…all emotions that were present every time that he showed up at the church. If he had been searching for genuine community, I didn’t show it to him.
6:00
Michael affected me that day. Immediately my ideologies of church had been turned upside-down. Some guy, came in from outside of the church and wanted to experience what people in the church should be experiencing. I’ve experienced the kind of community he was describing, but it wasn’t in the church. Everything in Michael’s life screamed “YOU ARE NOT IMPORTANT”. And where should he find validation?
It is my opinion that I am important, I am validated because I am valued and loved by God. It is the relationship that I have with God that speaks meaning into my soul, that allows me to wake up, free of the hedonism that inflates the arrogance of our culture, and it allows me to rise above the “self-serving” ethos I find myself in. And, if I am providing the spirit of Jesus incarnate, the second person of the trinity, I too should share in the validation process of those that are around me, freeing them to experience my relationship with Jesus, possibly beginning one of their own, all the while being truly known and experienced by another human being. In so doing, one breaks the hedonistic rituals of our society.
10:15am
We arrived at the airport this morning in Chicago. Made it to the “self-service” check-in, which is a phenomenal invention for the impatient movement of modern-day America. Irony whipped its tail at us as the boarding pass printer couldn’t spit out our stubs quick enough. There are probably no more arrogant American terms than “self-service”. However, the unplanned stop provided for conversation with those around us. We were able to exhibit patience with Kimberly, the desk worker. And a lady pegged us as doing missions work. We didn’t have any special “Jesus words” that were being shared together. Apparently three touristy looking men carrying drum heads and laptops screams mission work. Security was uneventful, and we are still waiting to take off.
All the while I am feeling like I have spent every flying opportunity that I have trying to figure out what it means to be Jesus in these situations. Will people just know? Should I talk to the guy next to me? But, what if he’s using the entire armrest!?! I mean if I truly possess the spirit of Jesus incarnate in my body, shouldn’t that change the way I view the people around me. All talking, eating their Burrito Beach, or reading their magazines…shouldn’t they know that there is more to this? I mean, I am flying to Colombia to tell people about Jesus, what is wrong with Gate K5, don’t they deserve it too? Who am I to tell them though, I don’t understand it. I don’t get praying, or why Jesus did what he did or said what he said. And the Holy Spirit, I couldn’t even begin to explain what he does, or where he is. So what could I honestly bring? I am progressively realizing, though, that everyone of us has the same questions, but very few are actually willing to ask them. Instead of actually believing we convince ourselves that we believe, which is belief in an entirely lesser being, our own logic. Back to Gate K5 though, I am sure they have questions…how do I get them to ask? Do I ask first? Because here is the problem, Colombia comes and goes…but I find myself in a different Gate K5 everyday. I can be Jesus in Colombia, I mean I am white so I already stand out. I guess all I can consistently do is pray, with all of my ignorance in the topic itself. God, help me to be Jesus at Gate K5. The funny thing is, God doesn’t want anything else. In prayer I rely solely on Him. Anything else is lesser. Anything else is self-service.
4:25
We arrived in Miami. It was a fairly uneventful flight, aside from the woman that I caught after she tripped over my foot. We walked what seemed like across the country to reach our terminal, but lo and behold, we arrived. One more flight, 3 hours, and we will be in Colombia.
I have been thinking more about this whole “what about the Gate K5 people?” and I think that I am coming to a conclusion. Each individual’s spiritual influence has less to do with the people they reach, and more to do with how they handle the interactions provided to them. I mean if we are honest, tracts, 4 spiritual laws, and personal evangelism as we know it is unattractive and quite frankly repulsive to the average individual. And the bottom line is that no one person is going to revolutionize the world. Thought still processing…to be continued.
A guy named Michael came into my office a few weeks back searching for “genuine community”. He was 33 years old, long, slick black hair, and an untrimmed beard. He wore a faded, dirty v-neck t-shirt, and rustic, khaki corduroys. He had been kicked out of his apartment the week before and had broken off all ties with friends and family. To this day I don’t know if by genuine community he meant $20 for lunch, or a legitimate friendship, however it was the latter that I attempted to offer Him. We bumped into each other fairly regularly over the course of the next couple of weeks, all the while trying to establish the kind of trust he had dismissed as “nearly impossible to create quickly”. Frustration, impatience, anger…all emotions that were present every time that he showed up at the church. If he had been searching for genuine community, I didn’t show it to him.
6:00
Michael affected me that day. Immediately my ideologies of church had been turned upside-down. Some guy, came in from outside of the church and wanted to experience what people in the church should be experiencing. I’ve experienced the kind of community he was describing, but it wasn’t in the church. Everything in Michael’s life screamed “YOU ARE NOT IMPORTANT”. And where should he find validation?
It is my opinion that I am important, I am validated because I am valued and loved by God. It is the relationship that I have with God that speaks meaning into my soul, that allows me to wake up, free of the hedonism that inflates the arrogance of our culture, and it allows me to rise above the “self-serving” ethos I find myself in. And, if I am providing the spirit of Jesus incarnate, the second person of the trinity, I too should share in the validation process of those that are around me, freeing them to experience my relationship with Jesus, possibly beginning one of their own, all the while being truly known and experienced by another human being. In so doing, one breaks the hedonistic rituals of our society.
reckless::abandonment
I was reading in Matthew 8 the other day. A guy comes up to Jesus and says, I want to follow you, but my father just died so I must bury him. Jesus replies "Follow Me, and let the dead bury their own dead." That's what this blog is about.
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