Blog Or Not To Blog...

I've got a real problem. I love to read Web logs, write them, review them, critique them, and so forth. I like to see friends' status updates and their day-to-day meanderings. But there's a dark side to all of this that's troubling to me. And that's where the "POST A COMMENT" section comes in. You've seen it. It's that section of a Web page that follows any online article, status update, tweet, blog, etc. Sarcastically translated, it means "LEAVE YOUR UNIMPORTANT, SELF-RIGHTEOUS, JUDGMENTAL OPINION HERE."

And that's where my problem lies.

Yes, I do love to read a great online article. It's one of my favorite past-times. Then I reach the end of the article, only to get sucked into the growing list of reviewer comments that tear through the writer's work like an eighth-grade grammar teacher. It's pathetic, really. Instead of submitting an article to a magazine on their own, these "reviewers" quickly pound out their criticism on the keyboard and send it into cyberspace. What's the point? Do these comments really further the global dialogue of the Internet, or do they simply give us more anonymous ways to be a jerk?

I guess the point I'm trying to make, albeit in a snarky way, is that this "Post A Comment" era of the Internet is a total catch-22. The beauty of the Internet is that the world can engage in open, digital dialogue. The ugliness of the Internet is that the anonymity it provides enables the world to post hateful, judgmental comments without realizing there's a real human being on the receiving end.

Some will say, "Hey, if you don't want negative feedback, then don't post your stuff online." While that's a true statement, it's still helpful to use a little "golden-rule" moral compass in one's life—even on the inconsequential Internet.

Here's the kicker: When I click "Publish Post," the little comment button is going to be right there, waiting for the click of another critic-to-be. Ironic, isn't it?

Letter To A Friend

This letter is to a brother, a friend, those who are important to me. This letter is written because I've noticed something in you. You seem a bit distraught...a bit distant. You're struggling right now. Life is hard and it's been beating down on you lately. I can honestly say I know how you feel. Not a week goes by that I don't doubt myself.
Still, I want you to know that I've noticed how you feel. I want you to know that your life is important. Your presence is felt...and it matters. I'm praying for you. And if that doesn't matter to you, that's okay. Doubt and bitterness are a part of life, too. Cherry-coating things doesn't help. Shit happens and sometimes life sucks. Sometimes nothing anyone can say will make you feel better. But you...well, I know you. You can rise above. You can choose to stay positive. You don't have to believe you're worth it—I can believe that for you right now. You should know, though, that you are worth it. You're worth the life you live. Rise above the things that bring you down. Why? I can't answer that for you. But I can stand by your side and say that there are good days and bad days. We live for the good days and we embrace them. Keep moving forward. The road ahead is open and waiting for you. I'll end with a line from a great song by Matt Maher called "Hold Us Together"—"[Love] won't fix your life in five easy steps...but it's all you need / And I'll be my brother's keeper, so the whole world will know that we're not alone / This is the first day of the rest of your life."

Why Do You Believe?

I had a good conversation with a family member recently. They talked about taking a Bible class at church, and how difficult it was to understand the Old Testament. Rules. Exile. Punishment. Death. More rules. They were really struggling with the God of the Old Testament and how to make sense of their faith in light of what they were reading and studying. This family member came to three conclusions, and didn't really like any of those three:

• Take the Bible very literally, in which case they didn't want to follow a God like the one of the Old Testament
• God must have wrongly-predicted the actions of his creation, thus making God fallible
• Assume the Bible is written by imperfect humans, who—though inspired by God—misinterpreted many things that God said to them

These are some hard conclusions to arrive at. I have thought about these conclusions and agree with this family member. The Old Testament is an extremely difficult set of narratives to accept. So, then, what are we left with? Unbelief? Doubt? A pointless faith?

Why do we continue to believe?

I can only speak for myself. In a world that tempts my doubt, I continue to believe because I want to believe in a God who is a champion for the hopeless. God, and the Church, are meant to be a shining light in the darkest of dark places. God is a haven for those rejected by the world. For those who are unloved and unaccepted, God accepts. At least that's what the Bible teaches. Jesus was a defender for the weak, poor and oppressed. The world is full of these people. Those who don't like the way they look; those who can't love themselves; those whose past sins continue to pour guilt upon them; those who don't feel accepted by any one. God exists for those people most of all. And when you identify with those people, you're likely to find God. And when you find God, the confusing words of the Old Testament don't seem to matter.

So why do you believe? Responses welcome...

Hair Metal Theology, Á La Poison

    I recently attended a lecture by Dr. Gale Yee, who is a professor of biblical studies at the Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge. The lecture's topic was "Answering God's Call: Bringing Justice To All." She related our call as Christians to the United Nation's eight Millennium Development Goals that aim to end extreme hunger and poverty. What a task. End poverty? End hunger? Can these goals even be achieved? After pondering her lecture, I think that extreme poverty and hunger can be eradicated, even if all poverty and hunger is not.

    This lecture on the world's poor also made me think of an early 90's song by glam-rockers Poison. The song is "Something To Believe In." You remember it, right? Well, ironically enough, from the band that brought us such classics as "Nothin' But A Good Time" and "Unskinny Bop" came a very profound anthem about life's tragedies. I thought about the lyrics in that song...

I drive by the homeless sleeping on a cold dark street
Like bodies in an open grave
Underneath the broken old neon sign
That used to read, 'Jesus Saves'

A mile away live the rich folks
And I see how they're living it up
While the poor they eat from hand to mouth
The rich drinkin' from a golden cup

And it just makes me wonder
Why so many lose and so few win

    So amidst all of that hair metal, there's actually some pretty good theology. Why is the gap between the rich and the poor so great? Have you ever noticed the distance between a city skyscraper and a street lined with dilapidated houses? Probably about a mile. A single mile. Within three or four blocks, you have some of the tallest, richest financial buildings in the world and some of the poorest, run-down neighborhoods in the country. And that's in America, the land of plenty. If you've ever traveled to Haiti, or India, or Africa, or a host of other countries, you know that the poverty we see here in America doesn't compare to the poverty in the rest of the world.

    Can we really end poverty and hunger? What actions can we take? Why do so many lose and so few win? I think a large part of the problem lies in that previous lyric. So many "lose" and so few "win" because the ones who have won don't share and distribute fairly to those who haven't won. We live in a "I'm-looking-out-for-me" world, and in a world like that, there will always be extreme poverty. Jesus spoke to this point, saying that "you will always have the poor among you" (Matt. 26:11). And though there will always be poor among us, that doesn't mean we should ignore their need while we go about our busy little lives. We can and should do all that we can to help the poor and destitute. For me that might mean giving money to a reputable organization, supporting local and fair-trade businesses, tithing to my church, and praying for those around the world. What does it mean for you? I can't answer that, but I do know doing nothing shouldn't be your answer.

The Law, Grace, And A Purple Bracelet

I've been pondering the law and grace lately. In Christian terms, the law and grace are spiritual opposites. The law represents the rules that God laid down in the Old Testament (Ten Commandments, Levitical rules, etc.) The law also represents a common mindset where many Christians think that they have to act "good enough" in order for God to be pleased with them. The other side of this coin is grace. Grace is the knowledge that we'll never be good enough to please God—and he still loves us, anyway. Grace is knowing that there's nothing we can do to earn—or to unearn—God's love and acceptance. The second part of that is the really important part: there's nothing we can do to unearn God's love. When you can come to a point of accepting that, then you've found salvation's road.

That brings me around to a purple bracelet. This isn't just any purple bracelet. It's a "Complaint-Free World" bracelet, courtesy of acomplaintfreeworld.org. A Complaint-Free World is a non-profit organization dedicated to helping people affect positive change in their lives by becoming Complaint Free. I'm always kind of weary of these gimmicks. Maybe I shouldn't use the word "gimmick," but c'mon...how can a purple bracelet help my life? Here's the idea: You wear this bracelet and every time you complain, you move the bracelet to the opposite wrist. This provides you with an awareness of how often you complain. So I'm once again giving this purple bracelet a try. You put it on, sit back, and let it work.

So how does this bracelet relate to the law and grace?

It relates because grace is the idea that we can't do anything of our own power to please God (Romans 3:22-24). So why should I waste my time with a bracelet? Isn't that like trying to obey a law to please God? For me, I think wearing this bracelet is like prayer, or a good friend, or even a good book. There are things in life that are good and are gifts of God to help us along. This bracelet won't grant me instant happiness...but it's a tool toward that end. It's accountability. I know God doesn't want me to complain and this bracelet provides the awareness I need to rid myself of it.

And just like prayer, I'll sit back and let it work. I won't worry every time I screw up and complain about something. I'll put the bracelet on the other wrist and start again. There's a truth in that. Mess up...and start again. Be forgiven...and start again.

My Role

There's one sure and true fact in which I take great joy. It's my role as Lydia's father. You see, in this role I am the one man in the world who loves her more than any man ever will. It's kind of a simple concept: No other man, not even a future husband, will love her as much as I do. That's my role and I cherish it.

Still, it's sometimes hard to be a dad. For me, it means giving up a lot of personal time. It means putting forth more exuberance and enthusiasm than I want to give at 8:30 at night, after a very long day of work. Of course it has its rewards. Nothing makes me happier than to see her smile. I'm as tired and also as happy as I've ever been in life. Most parents can probably echo these sentiments. So here's to parents...let us keep pouring out the love that overflows within us.

Blogging Dumb Theology

Today I came across a very funny (and poignant) comic by artist and blogger Rob Woodrum http://soulsurfer.wordpress.com

This comic made me laugh and sigh, concurrently. I realize that blogging is a little self-absorbed and can come across as super-pious. Still, I love writing my thoughts on faith and life and the crap that we all deal with.

As Rob's comic so hilariously illustrates, I'm also well aware that blogging can be dangerous territory. You might offend someone. You might draw fire. You might spur difficult discussion.

It's also ironic to me that I blog about my Christian faith, because I realize how little we all know about God. I mean, sure, we have the Bible and centuries of religious tradition. But hundreds of different denominational viewpoints all lead me to this conclusion: We've got dumb theology. We don't really know as much as we think we do. We try to make sense of contradicting Bible passages and use a lot of phrases like, "Well I just feel that God wants me to be happy and so I'm doing this thing blah blah blah." There are some people that think God gives us temptations in order to test our faith. Others think Satan is the king of temptations. Anyway, it's all dumb theology. But I mean that in the nicest way. I mean that I'm dumb when it comes to understanding the fullness of God. And so are you. So I'll try to always write with that realization firmly in my dumb mind.

Layers

This blog entry might get a little deep, spiritually-speaking, so if reading deep thoughts isn't your thing, then back out now. It's okay. I won't be offended. Thanks for taking a look just the same.

However, if you dig some deep thoughts and discussion, then go ahead and dive in. The water is deep here, but it might also be refreshing.

So I'm reading Philip Yancey's short book, Church: Why Bother? It's his personal pilgrimage on accepting the Church, faults and all. Yancey uses several remarkable metaphors to describe the ideal church, and one in particular ignited some curiosity in me. In one of Yancey's final metaphors, he describes the Church as God's welfare office, "an institution set up to heal the blind, set free the captive, feed the hungry, and bring Good News to the poor" (67). While I agree with this great metaphor, it also caused me to question its validity. You see, earlier in this book Philip Yancey also made a clear distinction between families and institutions. To paraphrase, he writes:

Institutions are based on status and rank. A soldier in the Army has stripes on a uniform that tell everyone exactly where he or she stands. A student's status begins with the As, Bs, Cs, Ds, and Fs of the first grade. In the business world, salary and job title signify one's status. In institutions, status is based on performance. Families don't work this way. A child "earns" the family's rights simply by virtue of birth. An underachieving child isn't kicked out of the family; in fact, a child with special needs might receive more attention than the other siblings. Similarly, in God's family, we are plainly told, "there is neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female, slave nor free." All artificial distinctions melt away under the sun of God's grace.

So institutions are—by design—not the most "gracious" places. Yet in the metaphor of a welfare office, we do see grace. We see an institution set up to provide for those in need. This is what the Church should be. And, for the most part, this is what the Church is.

Though some institutions are good and do provide grace to a hurting world, the Church should be careful not to become an institution for the reasons paraphrased above. Institutions—even a welfare office—run by the rules of ungrace. One has to qualify to receive welfare. One has to prove that they are deserving of that assistance. We live in a world that says, "What have you done to earn my respect and approval?" Can't a person just be loved and forgiven, regardless of their past? I know justice has to play its role, but who made us the judge of someone else's worth?

Consider this: a church offers a free food pantry for the community. No requirements. No background checks. Just show up and receive a week's worth of groceries, no questions asked. That would be an example of grace. Consider that same food pantry, now with their number of clients exceeding the number of food donations. A screening system would have to be set up to determine who has the greatest need for food. Is this grace? Certainly this church would have to determine a system that fairly gives food to those most in need. But grace might extend an extra helping hand, such as offering a month of free financial counseling to the persons turned away from the food pantry, allowing them to better manage the mishandled money that put them in need of a food pantry in the first place. Simply put, grace goes the extra mile.

I also think about our prison system. In America, a person commits a crime, serves their sentence, and then is sent back out into a community that's largely unwilling to help them integrate back into society. Many ex-offenders cannot even return home because those convicted of drug crimes are barred from public housing. This is ungrace. The effects of ungrace?—today, of all ex-offenders on parole, two-thirds are re-arrested within three years. However, grace is shown through programs like the Re-entry Court in Fort Wayne, Indiana, which provides supervision and counseling for ex-offenders.

Officials say Fort Wayne's Re-entry Court works—in its first year, only 3 out of 55 participants in the program returned to prison because it provides the offenders with resources such as counseling to make a life for themselves. Offenders are three times less likely to return to prison if they have gainful employment. In a country where most ex-offenders are released from prison and simply given $100 and a bus pass, programs like these seek to show grace by helping these persons find employment, housing, and support.

I am stuck on this concept right now: Grace vs. Ungrace. There's many layers to it. We live in a world that needs rules and justice. At the same time, those rules sometimes keep a person from receiving forgiveness and a second chance. There's a quote I heard that says, "Some people break the law; others are broken by the law." I, too, judge people by the world's rules. Is this person worthy of my time and energy? Has this person hurt me or betrayed me in the past? We don't often offer clean slates. God does offer clean slates and—though we know this—we can't seem to imitate.

What would your life look like if you offered grace to every one? How would people respond if you didn't condemn? If you didn't hold grudges? If people didn't have to be "worthy" of your time or affection? If you can answer these questions, you might have a glimpse of grace.

Video Entry

This blog entry is simply a video I put together showcasing my daughter's newest skill: walking. It's been amazing to watch how rapidly she has learned this feat. In one week's time, she went from taking one or two assisted steps, to pulling herself up and traversing every room of the house. Incredible.

Way to go, Lydia!

Embrace Today

Today I make a commitment. It's a commitment not just to myself, but to my wife and daughter. It's a commitment to throw negativity aside and embrace the joys of life. Negativity and complaint too often direct our daily attitudes. They then spread like a virus to others we spend time with. Do we really have it that bad? Is life really that distressing? Look hard and we'll find others in far worse situations. And while I'm not here to explain why bad things happen to good people or why life is, at times, so very difficult, I do know this: staying positive is the key to life. Whether a person of faith or not, if you embody a positive spirit, you're better off for it and you're living what God wants for you. So this is my commitment to see all that's good in life.

There will still be irritations and frustrations, for sure, but I commit today to look for the good. Below is a video of my 1-year-old daughter, Lydia, learning to walk. What a marvel it is to see this little girl take her first steps. Here's to you, Lydia, and to life. Carpe diem.

Two Sides Of One Very Important Scenario

Recently I read a chapter of Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies memoir that once again caused me to look deeper at life and faith. Anne describes a friend—a mother who has an alcoholic daughter. This daughter lives at a shelter, and is constantly furious at her mother—yet still accepts the $1,000 a month her mother sends her for expenses. The daughter in this story doesn't seem to recognize her mother's love—the love which sends her money every month. It's in this simple story that I saw two important points to consider.

I realized there are two sides to this scenario, and it's all too easy to be on either one.

Scenario One: We're the mad, furious child who hates his parents but still gladly accepts money, food, and shelter. Scenario Two: We're the proud, arrogant child who refuses to accept money, food, and shelter from his parents. Both of these scenarios are very dangerous.

Have you ever found yourself in either one?

Most of us have probably experienced one side of this scenario, if not both. I find a lot of spiritual truth in these two scenarios. In the first, we're the selfish, immature child who has never known a life without handouts. In the second, we're the world-weary child who has fallen flat on our face, but still refuses a helping hand due to our own arrogant pride.

I see Jesus in these two scenarios, too. Either we choose to rebel, despite the continual forgiveness and acceptance he offers, or we're too proud to even acknowledge that we need his help. In the first scenario, the child doesn't recognize the love behind his source of money, food, and shelter. He just takes it for granted. In the second scenario, the child recognizes what he needs, but is determined to get it by himself—or die trying. The key for all of us is in finding the balance of recognizing our need for Jesus's forgiveness and also asking for it.

Thoughts On Jennifer Knapp, Media Interviews, Condemnation, Love, Music, And Homosexuality

This blog is a general response to the Larry King Live interview in April featuring musician Jennifer Knapp. Jennifer Knapp is a grammy-nominated, Dove-award winning Christian musician who left the music scene eight years ago, exhausted and confused from the wild ride of "celebrity" that had befallen her. Her re-emergence into music comes full circle today, as her new album, Letting Go, is released nationwide.

http://www.jenniferknapp.com/in-the-press/larry-king-live-interview

Jennifer Knapp was unfortunately featured on CNN's Larry King Live last month for one reason and one reason only: debate. The debate surrounded the long-standing question: Can a person be gay and still be a Christian? Again, I say her role on Larry King Live was unfortunate because CNN and Larry King care only for ratings, not for the health and well-being of those featured on their program. On this program, Jennifer Knapp discussed her re-entry into music and her recent announcement that she is a lesbian. I enjoyed the show, for sure, and found it very interesting. I also was very disenchanted, once again, at the way that Christians in the media are portrayed (and the way they even portray themselves). The show also featured Pastor Bob Botsford of San Diego's Horizon Christian Fellowship Church and Ted Haggard, who was a renowned televangelist until several years ago, when a drug and homosexual scandal collapsed his career as a pastor in Colorado. Pastor Botsford was invited to the show because of a blog he'd written, saddened to hear of Jennifer Knapp's sexual preference "choice," as he described it. But Pastor Botsford was really invited on the show to be the opposing and condemning voice to Jennifer's own perspective. This is what saddens me—that Christians allow themselves to fall into the obvious "traps" set by cable television and other media outlets. But I digress.

Jennifer Knapp has always presented herself as a humble seeker of God, presenting herself as one who is at times unsteady in her faith, and at other times comforted and inspired by that faith. This meek and reserved perspective on the Christian faith has been the building force to her fanbase. In other words, people relate to her lyrics and her humble perspective. Jennifer Knapp presented herself in this same manner on Larry King Live, carefully explaining how she wishes not to be a stumbling block to anyone, but also compelled to be honest with herself and her sexual orientation. Pastor Bob Botsford made several biblically-accurate points, but completely missed the boat on other points. His first mistake was even showing up on the show. Right there he fell into CNN's "trap." He is now probably seen as the 'hypocritical, holier-than-thou preacher' by all who viewed the show. His second mistake was in not having an intellectual conversation with Jennifer. Jennifer Knapp tried to explain that her view of homosexuality is based on the premise that it's not a sin at all—that the Greek words translated as "homosexual" in the Bible aren't the same descriptions we use for homosexuality today. This is a valid point. It's a point that can be opposed, for sure, but it's still worth discussing with grace and intelligence. This did not happen. Judgment and scorn littered the discussion, making it a quarrel among believers (also condemned in the Bible) instead of a loving, graceful, agree-to-disagree conversation.

Ted Haggard thankfully added that voice of grace, though he, too, is just a man that interprets the Bible in one certain way. The ironic thing that has stuck with me is how Pastor Bob Botsford was so easily able to look at certain biblical passages—such as the story of the Pharisees who wanted to throw stones and kill a woman caught in adultery—and overlook other passages where Jesus instructs his disciples not to condemn your Christian brothers. In the pastor's biblical example, he did not mention that Jesus, the only person without sin, was the only one able to tell the adulterous woman to "go and sin no more." For the rest of us sinners, Jesus's teachings to remove the plank from our own eye need to be understood. While some of the apostle Paul's New Testament writings don't jive well with some of Jesus's teachings, I'm still gonna go with Jesus's ultimate commands of loving your neighbor and not judging your fellow man over Paul's rules and regulations that can be interpreted in various ways. While I understand Pastor Botsford's concern for Jennifer Knapp's spiritual well-being, Larry King Live is not the best avenue for a fruitful discussion...I can't believe people don't recognize that in the first place.

Jennifer Knapp's music remains faithful to God. Her sexuality and her interpretation of biblical texts doesn't require condemnation. Love covers a multitude of sins. These are the points of grace that I'm left with after watching Jennifer Knapp's CNN interview. May we all quietly work out our salvation with "fear and trembling" (Philippians 2:12).

Don't Judge Me! No, Wait—I Need Your Judgment!

We, the twenty-first centurists, have become quite adept at tolerance, quick to keep our judgments to ourselves. We wouldn't dare offend anyone.

I'm just like you. I hate judging others. The plank of wood in my own eye is so big that I'm astounded I can still see other people's mistakes. But as I've been thinking about judgment lately, I've wanted to examine it a bit deeper. I actually believe we all secretly, and maybe subconsciously, enjoy being judged.

It seems to me that most of us love validation. I know I do. We feel affirmed and proud after passing a class, getting hired for a new job, completing a project at home, seeing our child succeed, or being praised for a job well done. Isn't this validation all based on judgment? Don't we secretly yearn for the praises of our peers?

I realize that, as a Christian, judgment is a hot-button topic. My point here isn't to give a thorough exegesis on the contradictory voices in the New Testament that both condemn the throwing of stones while approving the removal of evil ones among the flock. Paul's instructions to the church at Corinth about chasing away "any of your own people who are evil" leaves me bewildered and disturbed every time I read it. All I want is to simply ponder the irony that we all live in. We get angry when someone "judges" us, yet we always seem to need the validation of other people. 


I'd love to think that I find my total worth in God and in that faith, but let's be honest. I always seem to crave that proverbial 'pat on the back.' Most of us do. Though I still strongly believe that considerable care needs to be heeded whenever we make a judgment call on someone's character, I also find it funny that only critical judgments are found to be offensive. It's all right for us to judge someone approvingly, but when that judgment takes the form of criticism or disapproval, then we suddenly become a hypocrite. Really?


I'm still not sure on this issue. It seems to me Jesus could have easily approved throwing stones at 'certain' people—those that claim to be Christians but aren't living what they claim to believe. Jesus didn't give any of those specifics, though. He simply taught that we are to take a long, hard look in the mirror before we cast any judgment—and what he really meant is that by looking in that mirror, we'll see that we are sinners, too, and have no room to pass judgment.

Still, we yearn for validation...and someone's gotta make a judgment of us before they validate us. It's a funny conundrum—'you can only judge me if you're going to say something that doesn't challenge my comfort zone!' Well, at least it makes sense to me now...sort of.

A Troubling Conversation With God

I've been troubled lately by something rather odd—terms of heartfelt concern and support. When someone suffers a loss, almost all are quick to say, "I'm very sorry for you. Know that you're in my heart and prayers," or, "I'm praying to God that he will give you the comfort you need." And, because I'm a Christian, I understand where these condolences come from and am tempted to say them, too.

But these words also hurt.

These words hurt because they only acknowledge a faith where God is not questioned. They don't seek answers, only comfort and restoration. But we're human, right? We also desire some type of answer, some type of, "Why the hell did this happen, God?" But we can't ask that, right? That's irreverent! Wrong. It's not irreverent. It's real. It's a difficult and troubling conversation with a God who sometimes seems very distant. Psalm 88 says it like this:

But I, O LORD, cry out to you;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
O LORD, why do you cast me off?
Why do you hide your face from me?
I suffer your terrors; I am desperate.

Let me tell you this: God welcomes our questions. It's okay to admit that life sucks sometimes and that there are simply no answers. And while we all need glimpses of hope, sometimes those glimpses come too soon and they simply don't help.

It's hard to be a person of faith when life deals you a bad hand. It's hard to see God working together all things for good when you're in the middle of a tragedy. Maybe it's best in these times to simply say, "I hurt for you," rather than, "I'm praying that God will help you through this." Even if we hope that God will make sense out of the senseless, maybe it's not best to say that. It might be too much for a person to bear. I'm not sure why these condolences bother me the way they do—I haven't suffered a tragic loss recently. Maybe these condolences bother me because I deeply hurt for those who are suffering. Maybe it's because I hate sorrow and tragedy. Maybe it's really because I personally don't know how to see God in times of dire despair.

I'll close with a quote from Dr. Marti Steussy, my current Old Testament professor at Christian Theological Seminary. She said:

Faith is staying in conversation with God; it's not always saying the right or proper things.

This is my conversation.

My NC-17 Bible: A Humorous (And Sarcastic) Musing On Religion And Life

Lately I've been inspired by Anne Lamott. She's an atheist-turned-Jew-turned-Christian hippie gal from San Francisco. I dig her. A lot. Recently I read an old book review of her eloquent memoir, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts On Faith. It got me thinking about the Bible and the accepted norms in the world of Christian culture. I know a number of people who would condemn me for watching a R-rated film—because I'm a Christian. Apparently, Christians aren't supposed to watch film or television with bad language in it. I guess this means I should watch what I say, too. While I understand concerns that many Christians have about 'becoming like the world,' I personally find it hard to live in a world where you attempt to shelter yourself from every outside influence imaginable.

So what does all of this have to do with Anne Lamott? Well, Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies is a book you probably won't find at your local Christian bookstore. Why not? Because there's bad language in it. Ssshhh. Don't tell anyone. Anne Lamott's conversion to Christianity was actually real and messy. She drank and smoked dope and did cocaine and all sorts of other damaging habits. She cussed and fought with God for a while. Then she gave in and accepted a Savior who had been right there through her darkness. That Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies is a book on the fringes of Christian culture was enough to pique my interest. I love the book. It's raw and messy and beautiful.

Other thoughts: If I'm not supposed to watch R-rated films or cuss or any of that bad stuff, then is it still okay to read my Old Testament? There's some pretty rough language in there. The prophet Ezekiel was one of the worst. In his metaphoric way, he described the people of Israel as a prostitute and a whore for the way they had betrayed their God. And God's response to their promiscuous ways is really bad. God, who obviously feels betrayed and angry, tells Israel that he's going to hand them over to their "lovers," who will "band together in a mob to stone you and run you through with swords" (Ezk. 16:40). All this is in the Bible. Really. Look it up.

Now I understand the marriage metaphor that was used to describe God's love—like a husband's—for his 'wife,' Israel. I understand that the prophet Ezekiel had to use words and imagery that would shock and anger his audience in a way that would get their attention. Still, the content is brutal—violence, rape, battery, mutilation. And while this doesn't really hinder my faith, it does provide for some curious fodder to write about. It causes me to stop and ask if I should really be concerned about watching movies that contain violence and language when my own Bible carries with it much worse content.

I really like the recent Clint Eastwood film, Gran Torino. It's a great story that hits on hard topics such as racial prejudices, anger, violence and peer pressure. It's also a very redemptive story of an old, hostile man changing for the better. I could be criticized for enjoying a film such as this. After all, the f-bomb is dropped like a hot potato—a lot. There's gang violence and brutality and other sinful subject matter throughout. At times I even question whether I should fill my mind with all of this stuff. That's where the irony of biblical history comes into the picture. It's the same story of acceptance, betrayal, and finally redemption that we see time and time again in history.

The bottom line is that God loves you no matter what you've done or what you will do. Anne Lamott was as broken as they come. Yet, as she quotes in her book a Leonard Cohen song, "There are cracks, cracks, in everything, that's how the light gets in." Only in our brokenness can we see our need for a redeemer.

Now go out and buy Traveling Mercies and then rent Gran Torino. Then relax, say a prayer, and know you're a loved and forgiven child of God.

Understanding Grace

At the church where I'm employed and attend, we focus a lot on grace. At first this struck me as nice, but maybe a little too nice. I kind of wondered why the focus of sermons and studies wasn't more balanced, also discussing such theological issues like consequences, failings, etc. But as time has passed, I understand better the necessity of learning about grace.

Let's be honest — grace is not easy. To show grace and to receive grace are hard things to do. Our society functions much like a business. You have to earn your keep. Your main goal should be to get ahead and make lots of money. We aren't quick to trust others. We've been mislead before and now we're jaded. Think for a minute about this scenario: you see a street panhandler near your local Wal-Mart. You just want to get home and here's this person asking you for money. How do you normally react to a scenario like this? Many people wonder how the panhandler will spend the money he or she is given. Some will think that the panhandler should seek assistance through a local mission instead of begging. Others will be angry that this panhandler isn't working and isn't doing anything to earn any money. Some will simply be too scared or intimidated to approach the panhandler. All of these reactions, though normal, speak to our human nature in this world. It's a world with little grace to be found. At the heart of our reactions to this hypothetical panhandler is this: we want to have control. We want to have control of where we give our money and even over the way others spend "our" money. If we deem a person undeserving, then we won't give them our charity. This is reasonable, but it's surely not grace.

We think in terms of earning and deserving. These are normal, reasonable methods of judgment, but it's not the way of grace. In fact, Martin Luther bluntly wrote that "Reason is a whore, the greatest enemy that faith has." The reasonable way is helping only those who deserve help. The reasonable way is giving to those who are really, truly in need. But does this really add up? Who really deserves anything? And what about those that don't deserve help, or haven't earned the right to assistance? Maybe we should just send them to the gutter with a get-a-job-,-you-lazy-chump kick in the butt. The way our minds naturally operate might not be the right way of thinking at all.

It's not very easy to adopt an attitude where we see everything we have as given to us by God in the first place. It's even more difficult to relinquish control of our money and power. Our identities are based so much on where we work and what neighborhood we live in. What kind of car we drive. What clothes we wear. Again, these might be reasonable things to judge each other by, but it's not grace.

So what if we don't have the high-paying job that we could have had? So what if we don't drive a car that's less than 5 years old? So what if that person has more than me? Grace is about acceptance without limitations. Grace is about speaking positively about people you don't like. Grace is about giving someone the benefit of the doubt. Grace is also about keeping our judgments to ourselves. Grace is not easy at all.

I believe we all have a deep longing to be accepted, whether it's by a family member, our peers, or even a mysterious God that seems so distant. The news of grace is that it's already been offered to us. Embrace it. Soak it in. There's freedom in grace. Here's the kicker: it's when we truly let our guard down and admit that we're human and judgmental and misguided that we can really accept grace. C.H. Spurgeon wrote, "We hold that man is never so near grace as when he begins to feel he can do nothing at all." When we can look at ourselves and say, "Wow, I've really got my attitude and priorities twisted," that's when we're ready for grace.

Confused By "Blessings"

While not trying to start 2010 on a pessimistic note, I've been wanting to write about the topic of blessings, and specifically, my confusion over the concept of blessings. Christians love to say things such as, "Have a blessed day," or, "I feel so blessed." We thank God for the "blessings" in our lives. I do this, too, so it isn't lost on me...at least not totally. Still, I am always a little confused when a Christian, or anyone for that matter, talks about how blessed they are or how many blessings they believe are in their life.

To me, saying that you're "blessed" implies that those who don't have the amenities that Americans have—or those in other developed countries—are not "blessed." I guess I'm just irritated by what most people define as blessings. I am still trying to understand the biblical history of the word and what it meant to the people at that time. Moses wrote in chapter 23 of the book of Exodus, "Worship the LORD your God, and his blessing will be on your food and water. I will take away sickness from among you, and none will miscarry or be barren in your land. I will give you a full life span." Other biblical references to blessings indicate that blessings can be spiritual or material. If a blessing is God's special favor or mercy on someone, then how do we explain the conditions that over half the world live in? Are those who sleep on dirt floors and fall asleep hungry cursed? Are their blessings just harder to distinguish than ours? Do we define our own blessings?

I believe I am blessed. I have a wonderful family, have enough money for each day and a comfortable place to rest my head each night. By the world's standards, I'm blessed. I have a relationship with God, a life with purpose and an inner peace. In spiritual terms, I'm blessed. But still the lingering questions remain. Are those without enough food or money or good health not blessed? And if I didn't have enough food or money or good health, would I still have faith, purpose and inner peace?

What all of this confusion leads me to is this: being very careful about saying, "I'm blessed." Though I am continually grateful for what I have and enjoy in my life, I hate describing these joys as "blessings," lest I forget those without. Blessings come in many different forms, for sure, but it still irks me to hear any American say that they're "blessed." We're "blessed" by default of where we were born. That's not exactly a blessing from God. Or is it? I still can't totally believe that. God has always presented himself as a defender of the weak and the poor, so if riches and material goodies are your "blessings," I'd take another look at who Jesus cared for the most. I've got as many creature comforts as the next guy—I just don't want to call them "blessings." Why do some have their "daily bread," while others go to sleep hungry? Could it be a deeper problem—that within the world's resources, there is enough for everyone, but because of greed those resources aren't dispensed with grace and justice? I am a blessed person. But I'll only feel that way so long as I'm sharing those "blessings."