Prodigal Medic....

I was reading a major Christian magazine the other day. They always have a great section about all the great books out there, classics and new selections that are of spiritual relevance. This is always the section that I flip to first. I was excited to see a good friend’s book in there a couple of issues ago. He was the first person to use the word “emergent” in a book title, in reference to the loose-knit group of people that The funny thing is (and I don’t remember the exact dates of it all), there was also a cover article about John Calvin. One of the things that I’ve been quite aware of is the flap/kafuffle/conflict over this emergent thing. The purpose of writing this is not to involve myself in said kafuffle. Just the other day, I also read something on a stranger’s website, about how they “didn’t want anything to do with anything emergent-ish… give me some good ol’ Calvinist reformed theology… some Macarthur, Piper, or Driscoll.”

These groups are pretty diametrically opposed to each other, at least on paper. Ideas on faith, grace, works, pre-destination, church structure, accountability of the church, how to teach, what to teach… The list is long enough to choke on. And I do. I look at it though and think of my friend’s job writing books about this, and about all the books and Celebri-pastors that are finding their way on to Larry King Live and in sound bytes all over the place talking about their way or how wrong the other way might be.

About a month and a half ago, my family hosted a couple from Houston. This couple whom we came to love dearly taught me a lot. About seven years ago, this guy had a tree fall across his yard. His friend said he knew a guy with a jeep who might be able to help him clear the tree. And this is how he met my Uncle Mike, the friend with the jeep. What an unlikely pair. An African-American lay pastor who works as a handyman to support his backyard tent ministry and yearly trips to Georgia to hold revival meetings. A white-looking Mexican biker with a short-man’s complex and enough demons to fill his own level of hell. Fast friends they became. It started with the tree. Then Fred would call Mike when he needed help on a job. And after each job, he’d call his wife, and they’d invite Mike to eat at their house. Uncle Mike was passionately anti-God. He’d seen too much. Been a part of too much. A life of violence, addiction and lawlessness had firmly set his heart against God. And yet Fred and Faye would always ask him to dinner, welcome him. Faye started making Saturday breakfasts for Mike. He’d show up faithfully and let these people slowly start melting his heart. They would offer encouragement, a place to sleep if he needed it, and always a warm smile and meal. Years passed. Nothing changed. Mike was arrested and in prison. Fred and Faye were the family he called when he got picked up, and when he got out.

Something changed. He got out and started going to the church meetings that Fred and Faye would hold in their backyard tent. Then he started serving meals to homeless people. He would get there early on Saturdays to set up chairs. After the meals he’d eat with the family, he’d sit in an easy chair in their living room and quietly read one of their Bibles. And one day, Faye asked him about his savior, and Mike knew that Jesus had redeemed him and that he knew in his heart that he was “saved.” (Again, don’t get hung up on the terminology or theology.)

The thing that Fred and Faye taught me was that a life of loving the people around you has powerful consequences. These lofty ideas that those of us that have the luxury to argue over rarely trickle down to the life of the broken-down biker gang type, like my Uncle Mike. And thank God for that. If he knew what we Christians were really like, he might have just ridden off into the sunset. Instead, when he died recently at a fairly early age, he set and example for the rest of my family of faith, a family that like him has rejected any and all forms of organized religion for years. What Mike related to, according to these people that knew him best, wasn’t these theological arguments. It was a homeless rabbi who loved him, who pissed off the teachers who “knew” their idea was right and rejected all things on the other side of the aisle, teaching that the Kingdom of Heaven was here and now and available and brought great peace. Maybe this is where we should be spending our time and energy and money.

I heard that “introspection is a luxury afforded to the wealthy.” I also heard from a friend that a pastor told his congregation last week that “if the kinds of people that Jesus was passionate about showed up here, most of you would leave.”

I think its time that we became more poor, the hurting, the needing and the lonely, thinking less about the “other team” and how wrong they are. Look at the person in class next to you. Look at the person sitting across the nurse’s station, making your coffee in the morning or bagging your groceries. Lets start leaving behind our luxury of arguing over such minutiae and start actually loving the people around us in tangible ways.

I know that I’ve met plenty of people that have been loved into heaven, and no one that has been argued there.

| 0 comments

I’ve had this thought rattling around in all the empty space inside my head for a while. (And trust me, there’s a lot of empty space in there!) I’ve been talking to friends recently about relationships. There are two of them that are in similar situations. For the sake of ease of writing, the summation/merging/anonymity of these two situations is this: Both have recently entered into new romantic relationships with guys that they both are significantly different from. Both of my friends are Jesus-followers. They both seek to make their relationship with God the driving force of their lives. Both of the guys that they are with are either not Jesus-followers, nominally spiritual at best, although both are open to the idea of Jesus as a philosophy or way to live. And the reason that this resonates so strongly with me is that I was in a similar situation years ago, although in the not to distant past. And because of the breakdown and discrepancy in faith and motivation of the heart, it was the most miserable and destructive relationship I’ve ever been in! I wish there was a way to share how “perfect” it was at the beginning, and how within a few months, I was happily wandering far from my Jesus and into the mouth of a personal hell that I’m still recovering from.

This all came out again in my head when I found some old Nooma videos. Nooma is a series by Rob Bell, a pastor from Michigan. They are somewhat cheesy little sermon-ettes, although his teaching is always amazing. In the second one he did, entitled “Flame” Rob talks about the differences in the Hebrew words for love. He talks about how there are three distinctly different words used to describe the love between man and woman. There is “raya” which translates best into “friend” or “companion.” There is “ahava” which is a love of the will, something deeper and far more significant than romantic love; it’s the love wanting to join your life to that of another. And there is “dode” or the explicit and sexual love.

Rob says something at the end of his video that struck me as so against the way we often view relationships. He says:

True sexuality is vast. It involves all of you. You have a body. But you also have soul and a spirit. And love is two people coming together and giving all of themselves to each other, forever.

I’ve heard from my friend how she was making out with this new guy, and she really didn’t want to and hated the experience. I’ve heard from my friend how instead of giving her butterflies (Should that even be something that we are really looking for? Are our hormones an accurate barometer for a potential partner?) the guy gave her anxiety attacks. This makes me so sad.

As more “dode” and more “raya” are expressed, they almost seem to have masked the need for “ahava.” This is the same pattern in both these relationships. And as I listened to the quote from Rob I just listed, I have to wonder: Can you really share all of you with someone who just doesn’t even know who or what all of you is? Can you expect that person to give all of themselves to you (I believe that if that person loves you, he/she will do that) without feeling like you’re actually left incomplete because their all will never match your all because of this huge Jesus that lives large in your heart? I believe this will create an unmatched and unfulfilled hole in this relationship that would leave any person wanting and desiring more.

I’ve thought about this issue of compatibility before, after my break-up and the reflection period that followed. There was such a deep sense of loss, and self-betrayal. I’ve heard so often in my life about the need to be “equally-yoked” and there is good reason for that, as I learned so painfully.

[A side note about being yoked: this has nothing to do with being well muscled. The term “yoke” also refers to an ancient Jewish concept about being under the teaching of a certain Rabbi. It means accepting that Rabbi’s teaching as your own and doing everything in your power to take the “yoke” of your Rabbi, to be like him. How can we ask this of someone who doesn’t believe that Jesus is the Son of God, resurrected? Is it fair to ask them to accept our yoke when it is so different than the yoke of one who has no Rabbi?]

Not surprisingly (and I don’t blame her for this either because she was being true to herself), the woman in my relationship grew less spiritual and less interested in Jesus as our relationship became more comfortable. It was her reverting to her baseline once the comfort level was present. It was easier for me to meet her at her level than it was for her to go through the work to open herself to the possibility that Jesus loved her and exploring that intellectually and emotionally. I just don’t think that the flames of ahava, raya and dode burn apart from each other and I realize that in disproportionate amounts, its easy to lose sight of what is most important: Jesus. I think this is just because we find ourselves getting a lot of “love” (or at least affection).

Rob was right. I’ll never be able to share all of me with someone who doesn’t love Jesus with all her heart, mind and strength. And I don’t care how intelligent, cute, sexy, gorgeous (or any other adjective you are), I’ll never chose to be attracted to you romantically or chose to love you romantically unless there is a love for my Savior deep in your heart as well. This has nothing to do with loving the world around me. This has nothing to do with being deeply invested with whoever God puts in my path, man or woman, and being as open and inviting to them as humanly possible, showing them as much grace and love as I’ve been shown. This has only to do with the foundations of the most sacred of relationships that we might be working towards entering: marriage. Maybe I’m just too old and have been around the block too many times to experiment any more, or maybe I’ve just learned what I’ve needed to. The sum of the lesson: I’d rather die alone than compromise on entering into a romantic relationship without both my significant other and I being able to go to church together, read the Bible, pray, read books, listen to sermons, love and serve the world around us and grow forever in faith and love for Jesus together.

I hope that these relationships go better than mine did. My only prayer is that they would not be led away from their Jesus like I was, and that maybe, these people will see Jesus in them and want that for themselves, and not just to impress these incredible women. I don’t normally share about my own life or failures either, and I just pray that my mistakes will offer inspiration to someone else to chose the one’s that they will love carefully and realize their own power in the situation.

I’ll close with Rob’s benediction from “Flame”:

May you honor the way that God created you.

May you have a profound sense of respect for the fact that you are a deeply spiritual and mysterious being, and love is ultimately a profoundly spiritual thing.

May you realize that the three flames are meant to burn together.

And may you discover the big flame.

| 0 comments

There is so much pressure right now. Pressure to succeed, pressure to heal, pressure to be someone that I am not always. I am struggling to find my own voice. My tendency is to compartmentalize, internalize and then file whatever is bothering me away in some distant vault in my head, leaving the memories there to explode at a later date, on some poor someone who triggers the same emotion. I have to fight this. I have to understand and realize and give myself permission to be myself, to be social when I want, to withdraw when I want and to not to feel guilty for any of it. I hope that the people around me understand this. I’m not sure that they will. I have this sneaking suspicion that they instead will manufacture all manner of reasons in their heads that I will be found guilty of “friendship treason” aka not sharing what I’m thinking, not giving proper reason or notice, or providing enough details. I was reading in a book the other day by Don Miller about how his friend described being in love. He was talking about how as close as he was to his wife, there was a place that she would never know. I think that in our current churchy/Christian culture, there is a tendency to want to know everything about another person. Sometimes though, the hiding place of a person’s heart and the relationship of working the inner workings of that heart in relation to God needs to be worked out, alone (not lonely), in quiet (not conversation) and in peace (not busyness).

| 1 comments

I was talking to a friend the other day about a broken relationship in their life. As I thought more and more about this, one thing they said really stuck in my mind. It was the thought that in so many ways, we are so afraid of disappointing those around us that hope for something in our lives that they would see as best for us. This might be in romantic relationships, parental expectations of their children, our own thoughts of career or educational goals and dreams. There are a myriad of what these expectations might be. Lord knows I have enough of them myself about myself and in doing so, have found myself highly disappointed or questioning my ability to hear God “speak.”

I wonder when it became en vogue to hear “God speak.” (By speak, I mean those that hear the tangible words spoken to them. I wonder if this is one of the trends of the church, such as how we express our relationships to Jesus. Is it “being moved by the Power of a Great Affliction”? Is it “having a personal relationship with Jesus”? Is it some other generational expression that in 100 years, fellow believers will look and laugh at our “outdated” expression of faith?) I understand that Jesus told us that we’d never be alone and that the Spirit of God came to be with us at Pentecost, but really, where does it say that God will answer us with direct guidance in any tangible way? I can only think of the verse:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in all things, with prayer and petition, make your requests known to God. And the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Does this really mean that God will speak to us and tell us what we want to hear or need to hear or how to dress for the day or what to think of to read or how to speak or anything like that??? I think that too often it would be easy to manipulate or create self-serving prophecy. At the same time, I can think in my life where I felt led to talk to a stranger, to share a meal with someone, or to sit with them and help them ease their pain.

I felt a similar sense to what my friend was sharing though in two distinct ways. I’ve felt for a long time that those that claim to hear God speak so directly and who are so vocal about how they have this connection with God have made me feel over and over (and I completely understand how unintentional it has been) that for some reason, I might be “less than” in my faith. There is a certain sense of pride that exists with this type of language. There was also the similar feeling of how some people cant seem to do much of anything if they don’t hear from God. Some seem to wait and wait, and I just feel that for me, there is a time and place to just trust that God might even trust me enough to allow me to make decisions or wear certain clothes or even fail on my own, because that is what is necessary for me to grow as an individual.

As I said before, I have been led to certain things by a silent urging in my heart to do something. I don’t hear words. I don’t see writing in the clouds. I know God spoke through a burning bush, through prophets, his Son, and even an ass. Maybe the way I’m wired, I hear less from the buring bush or the cloud of fire than I do from the asses in the world. Asses are my kind of people anyways… broken, beaten-down, lopsided.

My greatest fear is that in this expectation of hearing God speak is that these expectations of things working out in a certain way that there develops this weird type of god-inspired/christian dysfunctionality. What if instead of expecting things for people (relationships, living situations, education, profession, etc) we just let people live. My friend is legitimately worried to share how things are in their life right now with friends and family for fear of disappointing them. How understandable. I’ve been there. How sad, too.

I pray for my friend and I that we can both find the freedom to be honest, and that our friends will show us the grace we need by not placing expectations on us, but letting us work things out in our own lives. I’m not saying at all that I don’t value the advice of my friends. I know full-well that if I were left to my own devices just how destructive that would be. I just hope that their guidance or expression of how they each uniquely hear God leading them comes in gentleness and encouragement, and not fragile, detrimental and broken expectation or pride.

| 1 comments

I am constantly amazed at how God uses our brokenness to heal others. there is validation and redemption in this process. This summer, I listened intently to the “Life Signs” part of a week at Woodleaf. Typically, I avoid this. However, this last month, a dear and precious friend of mine was sharing her story. Listening to her as she shared her life as she was in high school, and in speaking more with her, I heard the brokenness and pain inflicted on her as she was growing up. For once, the story penetrated my heart. I’ve had friends share in this way before, but it has never touched me like this. At the same time, I heard other people, some that I’ve known for years, and others that I’ve just met share similar stories of pain, heartache and all the ways they tried to hide this darkness in their hearts. In fact, one of the stories very much paralleled my own. What I saw on the other side of this was the redemption of all of this pain that took place. It was always unlikely, always surprising. It always seemed unreal who would connect with which of the four speakers, and how God’s appointments to speak to high school kids was always fulfilled. As I spoke with my friend, I heard story after story of people seeing God in the lives of those who shared, and in many cases, the lives of everyone who served this summer at Woodleaf, and I’m sure who chose to live lives that demonstrate Jesus to the world through acts of love and service and meeting people in their own context and culture. I pray for more opportunities like this in my life, to deepen the relationships that I have with people who don’t believe in Jesus, and who are outside of the walls of our religious ghettos. I don’t want to miss these rich opportunities and in the in between time, I hope to always share stores with those that are living this in their own day to day lives and being deeply encouraged by them. I’m so thankful for friends that are willing to share these success stories, no matter how intense and in doing so, continue to allow me to work out my own salvation with wonder and amazement.

| 0 comments

One of the hardest things for me is the feeling of replacement… Like Woody in “Toy Story” there are times when I have felt that I have invested a lot into people. Given time, energy, heart and soul. There has often been a time to share these friendships with other people. This has actually always been a source of pride for me, that my friends and friendships would be compatible. I’ve thought that if I had all my friends gathered on an island together for a long period of time, we’d have a mind-blowing party, celebrating our lives and time together. There are also times though, when I fear that while everyone else would be partying and enjoying each other’s company, I would be the forgotten one in the corner, wishing that people remembered me. Is it that I am an outdated friend? I don’t think so. The failed, broken and insecure part of me feels that the bigger issue is more that I don’t have the qualities that make one person more attractive to another… whether it is intangible qualities like humor, mystery or conversational skill, or physical traits or characteristics or just that general vibe that someone else is worth spending more time with than me. Its something I’ve struggled with for a long time. I probably will for a while longer. I just pray that the lies are quieted through the right kind of spontaneous affirmation from friends who really care. Jesus, let me see me as you do. Amen.

| 0 comments

Read this article this morning after looking up a friend on Google. 

| 0 comments

| 0 comments

I know probably most of you have seen this, but if you haven’t, its worth your time. This is a clip from the British version of “American Idol” a year or two ago, and a man named Paul Potts. Paul is a cell phone salesman, and apparently, an opera singer. What captures me each and every time I see this clip is the transparent insecurity of this man as he stands on stage, waiting for his music to begin. To me, his facial expression captures what my heart feels so often, although I have learned and conditioned myself to hide so very well over the years. I love watching the look of apprehension on the judges faces when Paul annonces that he is going to sing opera. Bad Ricky Martin impersonations would be an angelic offering compared to bad opera. But as the music starts, and Paul starts singing, the look of amazement on the judges face is magical. Even more miraculous is the transformation of Potts’ body language. His awkward, insecure stance at the beginning of the piece changes as the music rushes out of him. His posture changes, and towards the end of the clip, as audience members are leaping to their feet and judges are watching, mouths agape and in rapt attention, Paul stands, with his arms spread, his head tilted backwards and being just who he was meant to be. I relate so much to this. I crave being accepted and loved like this and truly, this is almost my tangible version of the prodigal son. I find myself thinking about how God will welcome me home one day, with that same applause. In the meantime, like Paul when the music ends, I struggle to find my sense of self, my confidence and my place in this world.

| 0 comments

I watched an incredible presentation yesterday from this year’s TED Conference. It was presented by a guy named Willie Smits, an Indonesian conservationist, who was deeply moved by a moment walking through a marketplace in a town where someone tried to shove a dying orangutan baby in his face. He ended up rescuing the orangutan baby, and began to explain how the deforestation of the palms in order to provide biofuels for the Western world. I was at first skeptical, as I always am, with these “save the rainforest” type speeches. Do I believe that the rainforests need to be saved? Absolutely. Do I have any idea how? No, and really, my garden on Facebook doesn’t really count as a worthwhile effort on my part.

However, as with most TED talks (since I have rarely heard one that doesn’t intrigue me), I stuck it out. And I was deeply intrigued by Smits’ incredibly well thought out plan for saving the orangutans. His plan was to by 5,000 acres in a forest in Borneo and to create not only a wildlife sanctuary, but also a whole new way to approach everything related with this. While it would take twenty minutes just to capture some of what he said, the summary would be a meticulously thought out plan for caretaking of the earth, reforestation, creating biodiversity, a self-sustaining and self-propagating economy for the local people which creates local ownership, a wildlife habitat, and ecology center. The result is staggering. His center, with this meticulous reforestation and business plan, has directly contributed to everything from raising this part of Borneo from one of the poorest to one of the richest, increasing education, children’s health, increasing rainfall and restoring the natural balance of the earth, saving the orangutans, drastically decreasing crime, and the list goes on. It absolutely blew my mind.

And it got me thinking…

What if this could be the new face of missions? What if we leave behind the old models of going to people groups different than our own, with our spin of the Gospel to thrust upon then, while destroying their culture and without really giving them a practical day-to-day hope? I started thinking about how in the last century, missionaries went to these far off lands to “convert and save” the “lost.” Was this effective? In certain situations, absolutely. But I’ve always been unsettled at the cost of this, because “saving” them often seems like a process of assimilating them as well. In fact, there was a recent article on ABC News’ Nightline about YWAM (a great organization) and the conflict with the Brazilian government about how YWAM missionaries are contributing to the decline of the native customs and cultures. To be sure, some of this is good, I think, as I do not think infanticide is a good form of population control. However, we need to think long and hard about how we leave these people. Are we just throwing our holy hand grenades without providing for the tangible needs of these people?

Churches like Mars Hill in Michigan, with their XYZ Initiative and microfinance work in Burundi, organizations like Blood:Water:Mission and others are on to something. And I think that Smits is on to the same thing, although in a secular way. Maybe the best way to radically effect change in these people is to enter into their world as one of them. Maybe the new way to witness is not through street plays and the Jesus Film, but by analyzing the local economy and agriculture and empowering these people groups to find the courage to believe in themselves as having value and worth just how God created them, no longer selling themselves and their land to the Western world at the cost of their very lives for the cheap buck. Maybe, as we tap the Church’s rich resources of amazing people with expertise in agriculture, finance, public health, etc. with this multi-faceted approach, we can radically be changing the goal of missions from short-term to long-term investment in a community. I even have hopes that many of these same ideas might be applied domestically, not just internationally. Especially in such economic times, the need to minister to our literal neighbors is even greater. I think by showing that people have value and worth, and incorporating the message that this value and worth comes from a Creator that loves them how they are, we can really see the whole world change for the better.

| 0 comments

Yesterday, I heard a pastor make this challenge: “Is it really that we are about community or affinity?”

I think that this night is how it is supposed to be.

My favorite band was playing a show at my favorite pub in Santa Rosa tonight. I got to drive up there with two of my best friends. We talked about life and faith and things of significance the whole time. We shared a great meal together, and during this time, enjoyed each other’s company with stories of life and full of laughter.

As we left dinner, the three of us were happy and carefree, and arriving at the pub to see more of my friends was great. There was such genuine affection. I’ve always thought that if my good friends were ever all stranded on an island together, we would have an incredible time. People who had never met before were laughing and having a good time, people were watching out for each other, and there was so much goofiness and dancing. Arms around each other, sharing the moment, each of us finding our own connection with something bigger than ourselves, actually singing our own songs to God in the middle of this dance floor. Even towards the end of the night when someone was caught stealing from our friends, people were there to stand up for him, to protect and look out for him.

I took a break for a small bit last night and sat with my drink. I had just had a conversation with a woman I’d just met about her life and things she was going through. I heard from my friends that they’d had similar experiences that night as well.

All this really made me think about Rick’s statement: Am I settling for community or affinity? I think I’m pretty thankful and certain that I have an amazing community. I am thankful for these people more than I could express. This is so close to the feeling of family. And with all the mess and the fallen humanity that we each express, we found belonging and companionship. This was not some homogenous group, as there were all sorts of backgrounds and life experiences there. But it was, as I said, a great community.

The words to one of the songs really wrap up my thoughts on the night:

Its only whispers that keep our hearts alive
And tonight I wish that you and I could drive
Then race with the satellites as they streak across the sky
And when you’re near, I’m light as air and I believe that I can fly

In this moment,
Its beautiful ‘cause you’re right here
In this moment,
Its like I’m drifting across the sky
And there’s no gravity that can possibly hold us
And leave me weightless
- Five AM

Thank you to all those who make up my community and my family, those that I see frequently, as well as those that I wish I was closer to. Those moments, and these people, are what make my life so rich.

| 0 comments

Although he is avowed as an atheist as Bill Maher, Penn has always been much more intelligent and thoughtful in his position. In fact, after watching this video, I'm amazed and impressed even more. Definitely worth the time and most certainly thought-provoking. 

| 0 comments

A few random thoughts…

I went to a church today, alone and new, which for me, are both things that I am used to. I actually relish the thought of going somewhere that I am not known, being an anonymous face in the crowd. For those that do have a regular community of faith though, let me remind you of something important. It is so important to make new people feel welcome. Candles, dark rooms, worship leaders who are so hip that they cant see their toes… these things do not equal “community,” “authenticity” or any of the other buzz words that seem to proliferate so many church mission statements. The singular aspect of a community of believers that actually transforms these words to the reality of the vision is this: hospitality. Without the simplicity of a smile, a sincere hello, these other words fall empty. Let’s not forget that Jesus was most comfortable in the margins, and really, margins exist not only outside of the church, but also within, when we form cliques, when we are more concerned about our friends and we forget that there are new people there, searching to fit in and become a part of the community.

My next thought is simple:

I love reading people’s blogs. So many of the ones that I read are friends of mine, but others are people that I know within two degree’s of separation. This keeps me from wasting my whole day reading. This week though, I’ve found great writing from Trent, Katie, Kevin, Nakepastor and Kristin... some friends, some I've not met in person. But all worth reading. Thanks to those that make me think, pause and process...

| 0 comments

This is an essay written about history, church history and politics. It just reminds us, that no matter who our leader, we should be more focused on Jesus for real hope in this world...

| 1 comments

I had a conversation with a dear friend last night that’s had me thinking ever since. They are in a position where they are working with an icon in their profession, someone who is regarded as wise like Yoda, the kind of person who never seems to make mistakes.

 Unfortunately, they are facing the reality that people are human and that no one is perfect, and even those we respect the most are tragically flawed. We are all human, right?

 I spent all day yesterday, from 4 am when coverage started, to the time I fell asleep about 5 pm, watching the inauguration and all the associated festivies. I was fascinated with not only the democratic process, but also the person of Barack Obama, and even more so, in watching other people’s reaction to him.

 My own views aside for now, I looked objectively at so many who wept openly when Obama took the Oath of Office, so many that were swept up in a desire to be a part of something bigger than themselves and finding the embodiment of this hope and sense of purpose wrapped up in one human being.

 That made me concerned for what one reporter described “the day when we see beyond his skin color and what he’s overcome and it will no longer be what he inherited from Bush, but it will the Obama presidency.” I think then too, so many will feel something sad, when it is recognized that President Obama is actually even more what made those that believe so much in him connect to him in the first place: he was always just a regular guy.

 There is a striking difference there between our President and my friend and their situation. I see two very normal people, charged with leadership and responsibility. One has been extremely open about the tough days ahead, that things wont get better overnight, and that he will make mistakes. My friend’s boss, rather than acknowledge that he too is human and sharing his burdens, struggles solidly onward, in many ways alone and isolated. In his choice to do so, he has made falling off his pedestal not only harder for himself, but for all those around him.

 I think we do well to admire those people who have achieved greatness in one way or another, as individuals, professionally or as leaders for social change. I fear though that we put so much hope in them, that they become idolized, and only able to fall farther and harder, causing greater disillusionment and hurt.

 I think the world would be a greater place with more transparency, more people honest about their shortcomings and struggles. Leaders have to inspire, but to pretend to be superhuman only causes pain for them and those around them. I think we would also be healthier as individuals if we didn’t also try to not let people see our weakness. There is strength in transparency and gathering those around us who we allow to support us and carry us and council us and keep us strong enough to inspire those around us who look at each of us as a leader and an example. 

And lets just remember that we all put our pants on one leg at a time. 

| 0 comments

justice |ˈjəstis|

noun

1 just behavior or treatment

• the quality of being fair and reasonable

• the administration of the law or authority in maintaining this

 When I see these protests, I see more the groupthink driving people towards revenge or retribution, demanding “justice” for those wronged. However, when people have made up their minds ahead of time, justice often takes a rear-seat to the need for a self-satisfying moment, watching the Bad People suffer a fate similar to what they delt out.

 

peace |pēs|

noun

1 freedom from disturbance; quiet and tranquility • mental calm;

2 freedom from or the cessation of war or freedom from civil disorder, freedom from dispute or dissension between individuals

3 ( the peace) a ceremonial handshake or kiss exchanged during a service in some churches (now usually only in the Eucharist), symbolizing Christian love and unity.

 

This seems to be the goal of all of this. However, revenge and retribution don’t equate to justice, nor do any of those equal peace. I love the fact that Webster’s includes the third definition of peace. To me, this is where we will find the strength to change the world. We want this peace of freedom, this lead of quiet, and lack of dispute. But the peace in our heart that can motivate us further comes from some place deeper. I hope that we can see in all peacemakers, regardless of religion, race or gender, an imprint of God on their souls. I hope that we look at these peacemakers as the ones to get behind and support with our lives. I hope that we find deep within our own hearts, a desire to not chose a side per se, but more to chose love. I pray that we find the peace within to reach outside to pray for all those who are innocent victims, for those orphans and widows and husbands without families. I pray that Love would transcend hate, that we would find the Peace of the Eucharist.

 

One of my favorite pastors puts it this way in his latest book:

 

The way of Jesus is the path of descent. It's about our death. It' our willingness to join the world in its suffering, it's our participation in the new humanity, it's our weakness calling out to others in their weakness.

To turn that into a product blasphemes the Eucharist.

 

On the night he was betrayed, Jesus led a Passover meal unlike any other. He took the bread and the cup and connected these symbols with himself. He told them, 'do this in remembrance of me.'

 

The 'do this' is understood to be the taking of the bread and the cup as the body and blood of Christ.

 

So we take it and we taste. We reflect and we remember. We sing and we pray. We take part in this two thousand year old ritual. Some of us 'do this' in a church service, some every day, and others with a small group of friends. We 'do this' in all sorts of ways and in all sorts of places with all sorts of diversity. Some of us 'do this' with chants, and some of us in silence. In some settings a priest or a pastor or an elder or a leader serves us, and in other settings people serve each other, and in other gatherings people serve themselves.

 

We do this in remembrance of Jesus because the ritual moves us, it changes us, it humbles us, it brings us together.

 

Just try to do this with someone you are not speaking to. You'll end up reconciling or at least speaking or at least being more understanding and more compassionate.

 

But what if Jesus meant something else-something beyond the ritual? What if he was talking about our actually enacting what the ritual is all about over and over, again and again, year after year? What if the 'do this' he primarily meant wasn't the ritual he was leading his disciples through at the moment. What if the 'do this' was his whole way of life?

 

He has chosen the path of descent; he comes into Jerusalem on a donkey, not a horse, with children, not soldiers, weeping, humble. And he dies, naked, bleeding, thirsty, alone.

 

Maybe that's what he meant when he says, 'do this in remebrance of me.' The 'do this' part is our lives. Opening ourselves up to the mystery of the resurrection, open for the liberation of others, allowing our bodies to be broken and our blood to be poured, discovering our Eucharist. Listening, and going.

 

Because when we do this in remembrance of him, the world will never be the same.

 

We will never be the same.

 

God, I certainly hope so.

| 0 comments

I’ve been thinking a lot about the power of society to affect change in this world. I’ve been watching the news, even though it depresses me. I’ve been watching the coverage of Israel invading the Gaza and the protests in response to that all over the world, and coverage of the officer involved shooting in Oakland right here in our own backyard. All over, there are people taking to the streets, hoping their voice will be heard. My point in writing this is not to address the politics or culpability of anyone or any group of people involved on any side of these issues. Its about something bigger than that.

 This past summer, I had decided to take a change of reading material and read more biographies or autobiographies. I read the biography of Desmond Tutu, listened to the life of Martin Luther King through audio recordings of his sermons, and read Nelson Mandela’s autobiography. I also cheated and saw a movie of William Wilberforce’s life in “Amazing Grace.” These people are but a few examples of men who have changed the world, brought down massive political machines and redirected the morality of generations.

 Contrasting the two movements today brought me to a strange realization. Those that now seek justice, in whatever its form, who seek for their voice to be heard have lost their way. Dr. Cornell West, a professor of religion and African American studies at Princeton says this:

And one of the problems these days of our precious young folk, is that they don’t have a sense of history. They are unable to preserve the ancestry, the afterlife of their ancestors in them. All they have is just the present. That therefore present becomes a fleeting moment of pleasure, a hedonistic instance rather than a connection of a story and narrative.

 I think this is the failing of these new movements of protest. The greatness of Tutu, King, Mandela, Gandhi, Wilberforce, the Dali Lama and so many others has been the non-violent aspect of the protest. Watching video of a Palestinian woman calling for the Jews to “go back in the oven,” watching the people randomly loot and destroy property, watching all of this chaos makes me think these people have forgotten their history. In doing so, they have compromised the lessons of these leaders that have gone before and in turn, voided the value of the expression of their voice. They no longer have the greatest powers available to them: love and forgiveness. Without that, they only serve to propagate the cycles of violence, thinking that by assigning blame they will find “justice.” All they will find instead is the sharp end of another sword pointed at them, which in turn will give them reason to “prove” their point.

 This makes me think of the need to examine definitions.

 retribution |ˌretrəˈbyoō sh ən|

noun

punishment that is considered to be morally right and fully deserved

 

I remember back a while, when I really felt like retribution was a valid response for crime or for terrorism. After 9/11, I remember feeling that sense of rage that almost 4,000 lives were lost at the hands of some thugs with complete disregard for any human life, their own included, driven to this madness by some incomplete and biased reading of a text that calls for peace and hospitality to strangers. (Religion really drives many to madness and violence, and has been used by almost all religions to justify such for centuries, and those that claim to follow Jesus are no different.) I remember having this sense that We (the collective identity of “The Good Guys”) need to go get Them (the collective identity of “The Bad People”) and punish them. This is a mindset well formed in our society. From this, comes much of our justification for war, the death penalty, and many of our social prejudices against others. We show increasing levels of anger and violence towards “The Bad People” and want them to continue to suffer, often in the same way that we were made to suffer. This is retribution. This moral imperative to answer those that have wronged us or society in a similar or like way in response to an act against us.

 

revenge |riˈvenj|

noun

the action of inflicting hurt or harm on someone for an injury or wrong suffered at their hands

 

What I begin to understand more and more though is that there is little justice in this model. What there is, is a whole lot of revenge. I see more of the concept that we should actually “outdo” what they did to us. I struggle with the idea though that violence begets violence, and that what we create, is not a more just society, but one where each side hardens their hearts more and more, with each rocket and bomb and air-strike and with each bullet fired. Generations of people learn nothing more than to hate The Other. I’m reminded of the movie “The Kingdom” starring Jaime Foxx and Jennifer Garner. The beginning of the movie starts with a terrorist attack on United States interests overseas, and is the story of a team of FBI agents sent to investigate the attack. It’s a good action flick, and shows a lot of the tension of this kind of thinking. The part that eventually ties it all together, and shows the similarity of Us and Them, is the mindset that exists on both the US side of the equation and the Muslim side in response to all the violence. Both sides have embraced the idea of “We’ll kill them all” as an acceptable response to aggressions committed against each side.

(Part 2 to follow soon...)

| 0 comments