About three and a half years ago, I started this blog as part of my journey into what I called "the real world." Little did I know how long it would take me to get there.
As I look back on the early posts here, I can't help feeling like it was a different person who wrote them. I guess really it was. I can hardly believe all that God has led me through in this past season, and the changes in my life have been both internal and external. My soul and my situation are both so different now.
Not to say there weren't some really good things going on at the time I started all this, but as I look back I see a kid with some big talk and not much substance to back it up with. In this season, God is calling me into manhood. Into hard work. Into courage. (Things about which college graduate me had so very much to learn!)
God has also been providing me with new opportunities to share my thoughts. It's become apparent to me that if I don't have any place to express what God is teaching me, I don't know what to do with myself. That's part of why I started this, really. I had all these ideas and no forum in which to teach them, and I was pretty much boiling over. Now I lead a small group and a worship team, and God has finally given me chances to teach in church again after a long break. I couldn't ask for more opportunity!
Another thing about the time when I started writing on here was just that: the time. I had all kinds of it. Much more than I knew what to do with, in fact, and I wasn't really using it well to be honest. Sadly, those blog posts are one of the only truly productive things I was doing in a large part of that season. Now I have a full-time job in addition to all the teaching opportunities I was just talking about. I certainly don't need to try to find ways to pass the time!
Of course, much more could be written about how I'm in a different place now than I was then. However, another thing God has been teaching me to leave behind is my compulsive desire to say everything I think needs to be said all at once. With that in mind, here are just two of many things I think are important moving forward from here.
First, God owns everything. There's already an appalling number of I's in this post and this blog, and there will be a few more before I get done here. But he owns everything, and the more I realize that, the more I enjoy life. He just isn't that concerned about my agenda. I hold on to my freedom and time in self-employment, and he tells me to get a job. I pray about a girl, and he tells me... to get a job. Seriously, he knows what to do, and my time and effort belong to him, not me. If I'll let him use those things as he sees fit, I believe with everything I am that I'll experience the blessing I've tried (and failed) so long to produce on my own. Not that it's some magic formula-- it's just that where the Spirit of the Lord is there's freedom. That's the ultimate blessing.
That brings me to my other point. I've noticed that my life goes better when it's lived with a healthy dose of just not caring so much. Now, I don't mean to say that life and doing the right thing aren't important. What I mean is that a great deal of what I've cared about has been misplaced. I've cared so much about my own safety and what other people think of me, and that has never produced anything but death. I just don't have the energy to keep caring about that stuff, and I become the person I really am more and more as I let it go. I end up accidentally walking into the freedom I thought I could find myself but couldn't! I have life less figured out than I ever thought, and I can only hope that blessing continues. Figuring everything else out is someone else's job anyway, and guess what? He's already finished it.
These days, I care more than ever what God thinks about me and less about what everyone else does. The nice thing about that is that what he thinks doesn't change like people's opinions do. I don't have to manage it. Nor can I: no matter what I do, God is only looking at me with love and planning me a future filled with hope. 100% love, all the time-- Even when that means he has to discipline me to get something stupid to stop. It never changes his opinion on me: beloved son, covered by the blood of the beloved Son.
So, that real world thing I was talking about? I didn't mean getting a grown-up job (although I did do that). I mean seeing that this is my Father's world, and no matter what happens I have him. His question to me in this season is the same as to the disciples in the sinking boat in the storm: why are you so afraid? And as I realize that he will always be there, I start to fear less. With him there, it will always be ok... and even if it isn't, I still get to go be with him in heaven at the end.
Still, eternal life starts now. That life is the light of the world, the streetlights' call. What is eternal life? That I may know the only true God and Jesus who he sent. I can do that now. I can let his light shine through me more and more-- another new beginning, every day, every moment, every prayer.
Want to try it? Want to see what happens? Well, you won't read about it here.
Come live it with me.
Showing posts with label streetlights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label streetlights. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Integrity in Community
I've had a couple conversations recently that really got me thinking again about the issue of how we relate to each other within the body of Christ (i.e. the church). Long story short, I ended up expressing a lot of my thoughts about it in a poem, so I'll start with that:
Euphemistic Eucharist
Howya doin’? What’s up?
Pretty good, not too much,
life goes on, praise the Lord,
the usual and such--
By pretty good I mean
my family’s a mess--
we fight, except not here:
in this house we just bless.
I’m saying in not much
my schedule is insane:
it’s filled with noise and stress
it hardly can contain--
Life just keeps on going,
and so I don’t have time
to let you see beneath
charade and pantomime.
To praise the Lord I smile
and just sing happy songs;
pain stays behind the mask
where it, of course, belongs--
The usual just means
I’d tell you I’m depressed
were I allowed to break
facades so nicely dressed
And such and such and on--
a thousand pointless things
I’d rather say than tell
you anything that stings.
Safe. But are we happy?
We smile; are we alive?
The one place where it seems
reality should thrive,
instead we hide away;
we put our pride above
our pain--how can we throw
our masks aside and love?
Because we need help and we need
to be saved and all of us are
pretty much the same kinds
of messed up so why not just be real?
Can you see here what I’m driving toward?
Maybe then we could really praise the Lord.
So, I realize that my poem is a bit caustic. I'm just trying to honestly address a real issue, though, and the fact that it keeps on coming up among people I talk to lets me know I'm not the only one who feels it. The issue, as you can probably guess from the poem, is that church (not just mine, or anyone else's specifically, but church in general-- the conversations I mentioned at the beginning were with people from three different ones) has a tendency to become a place of fakeness where people don't feel like they can come with their real problems, instead of what it should be: the place where they could safely be honest and receive healing.
3 questions come to my mind: why does this happen, why is it so bad, and what can we do about it?
Let's break my OCD tendencies toward order and symmetry and start right in the middle with the second question. I don't want to belabor the point that the phenomenon I'm talking about is bad news, but I want to start with what I see as the basic reasons why it is so harmful.
The first is that everyone has problems, and problems don't just go away. Of course, drawing near to God is helpful in dealing with them. God can supernaturally solve them whenever he wants to. The problem comes when churches start teaching (or just believing, consciously or subconsciously), that this supernatural encounter with the healing Lord is only a one-on-one deal. Now, I know that God has healed me at times without any help from anyone else--he's just that good. However, the general model that he has laid out for us is something totally different.
"And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven. Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective." (James 5:15-16). This is God's model for healing. We get other believers involved, and they pray for us so that we will be healed. Catch that? James is letting us know that if we won't share our brokenness, both spiritual and physical, we won't access all the healing that we could because it comes through receiving prayer from each other! So that's one reason why it's a crisis that we don't feel like we can be real in church-- where else will we find the righteous men who can pray powerful and effective prayers for our healing?
Another reason is that everyone has problems, and everyone knows this is true. Even (or especially?) people who aren't Christians yet. We might feel like being real with the stuff of our lives will scare unbelievers away, but I propose that the fakeness we choose instead is infinitely more frightening. Everyone knows that people have problems. Everyone knows that they themselves have problems! So if you walk into a group of people where no one seems to have any, what do you think? You think, I'll never fit in with these people. So another reason this fear of dealing with real issues in church is a problem is because it is actually driving away the broken people who desperately need to receive healing by being prayed for (and who God wants to make into the powerful and effective prayers who will then help restore others!).
Finally, and potentially most seriously, being fake in church will hinder our worship. We might think we can sneak in and deal with our problems alone with God and have ourselves fixed by the time we have to talk to anyone. The problem there is that God is looking for worshipers who worship him in spirit and in truth (John 4:23). If we won't be real with God and with our family, we can't worship him in the way he desires. This is serious stuff, and if you don't think so just read in Exodus and Leviticus about people who tried to worship God in unauthorized ways. If we want his healing presence to be with us, we have to be willing to worship in the spiritual integrity God is seeking. Otherwise, our thanksgiving (Greek: Eucharist) will amount to little more than empty words we use to avoid saying what we really mean.
So, why does it happen that we feel like all we can be at church is just fine and peachy-keen, etc.?
I think it probably comes down to fear, mostly. Just because we all have problems and we know it doesn't mean we necessarily feel comfortable sharing them with people! If our fear of being judged for the things that are still messed up about us trumps our desire to be healed from those things, we won't share, plain and simple. If we have a history of being judged, that makes things worse of course, as does seeing other people be judged in places (like church) where they should be welcomed instead. Put all those things together, and fear wins out a lot of times.
Also, I think there's a misunderstanding in the church of what the Bible really teaches about joy. When it says to be joyful in all circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:16), is that the same as being happy all the time? If the joy of the Lord is our strength (Nehemiah 8:10), and a fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22), are we weak Christians who don't have the Holy Spirit if we go through struggles and trials?
All of the answers are no, in case you're wondering. No one is "too blessed to be stressed" either (although some might be in too much denial not to smile). Joy is not the same thing as happiness, and godly joy is just as compatible with sorrow as with happiness. Jesus himself wept (John 11:35), but he was given the oil of joy more than all his companions (Psalm 45:7). He also got so stressed that he sweated blood (Luke 22:44). So godly joy must be something different than unceasing happiness. What if, instead, it's the ongoing security of knowing that eventually everything will work out for your good because it's all in the control of the all-powerful God who loves you? Then you can feel the pain of loss and brokenness without losing hope, and when you are happy you can be happy for the right reasons. That's the joy that will bring you strength.
One further note on why the problem of disingenuousness happens at church: it kind of gets to be a vicious cycle. No one wants to be the first person to do anything, so if no one is talking about any real stuff, it's that much harder for anyone to break the trend.
Which segues nicely into the last question: what can we do about this thing?
First, let me say that I'm no expert on this. I'm actually more of an expert on being fake, to be quite honest. All I know is that I deeply desire to be real, and I'm starting to learn what that means. So how can we be the ones to step out and start being real in the one place in all the world where the truth should win out? How can streetlights shine into darkness that has clouded the home of light?
The main thing I can see is that we have to start wanting more of God so desperately that we don't care about our own images. We have to care more about what he thinks of us than what anyone else does. This is what it means for him to be our Lord. His opinion is the final word, and what he says goes, no matter what it makes us look like. If we start believing that, maybe we can be the ones to step out and take the first risk. We can't make anyone else be real, but we can show them they won't die if they try it!
Also, we have to confess and repent of our judgmental spirits. This will allow us to bless other people who are real enough to be honest about their problems instead of comparing our own struggles to theirs to see how we stack up. All judgment is comparison, and all comparison is irrelevant because God's love is infinite. What if ours started looking more like his?
We also have to stop getting the truth backwards. It's not that God is so good that his followers shouldn't have any problems; He's so good because welcomes us in spite of them! He fixes them too, but for whatever reason he hasn't chosen to do it instantaneously in most cases. We have to let him be who he is in this instead of making him into a false image of what we want him to be.
I'm sure there is much more to be said on this topic-- does anyone else have any ideas to share on how we can help? I'll end with one I just thought of, which is actually the most important one: prayer. I want to start asking God to change the problems I see instead of just worrying about them. I want to talk less and pray more.
So-- God, change what you want to change. Make us more like you. Make your body whole. Let us walk in integrity, bravery, and community. Give us real relationships with real people, and let us worship you in Spirit and in truth. Amen.
Euphemistic Eucharist
Howya doin’? What’s up?
Pretty good, not too much,
life goes on, praise the Lord,
the usual and such--
By pretty good I mean
my family’s a mess--
we fight, except not here:
in this house we just bless.
I’m saying in not much
my schedule is insane:
it’s filled with noise and stress
it hardly can contain--
Life just keeps on going,
and so I don’t have time
to let you see beneath
charade and pantomime.
To praise the Lord I smile
and just sing happy songs;
pain stays behind the mask
where it, of course, belongs--
The usual just means
I’d tell you I’m depressed
were I allowed to break
facades so nicely dressed
And such and such and on--
a thousand pointless things
I’d rather say than tell
you anything that stings.
Safe. But are we happy?
We smile; are we alive?
The one place where it seems
reality should thrive,
instead we hide away;
we put our pride above
our pain--how can we throw
our masks aside and love?
Because we need help and we need
to be saved and all of us are
pretty much the same kinds
of messed up so why not just be real?
Can you see here what I’m driving toward?
Maybe then we could really praise the Lord.
So, I realize that my poem is a bit caustic. I'm just trying to honestly address a real issue, though, and the fact that it keeps on coming up among people I talk to lets me know I'm not the only one who feels it. The issue, as you can probably guess from the poem, is that church (not just mine, or anyone else's specifically, but church in general-- the conversations I mentioned at the beginning were with people from three different ones) has a tendency to become a place of fakeness where people don't feel like they can come with their real problems, instead of what it should be: the place where they could safely be honest and receive healing.
3 questions come to my mind: why does this happen, why is it so bad, and what can we do about it?
Let's break my OCD tendencies toward order and symmetry and start right in the middle with the second question. I don't want to belabor the point that the phenomenon I'm talking about is bad news, but I want to start with what I see as the basic reasons why it is so harmful.
The first is that everyone has problems, and problems don't just go away. Of course, drawing near to God is helpful in dealing with them. God can supernaturally solve them whenever he wants to. The problem comes when churches start teaching (or just believing, consciously or subconsciously), that this supernatural encounter with the healing Lord is only a one-on-one deal. Now, I know that God has healed me at times without any help from anyone else--he's just that good. However, the general model that he has laid out for us is something totally different.
"And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven. Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective." (James 5:15-16). This is God's model for healing. We get other believers involved, and they pray for us so that we will be healed. Catch that? James is letting us know that if we won't share our brokenness, both spiritual and physical, we won't access all the healing that we could because it comes through receiving prayer from each other! So that's one reason why it's a crisis that we don't feel like we can be real in church-- where else will we find the righteous men who can pray powerful and effective prayers for our healing?
Another reason is that everyone has problems, and everyone knows this is true. Even (or especially?) people who aren't Christians yet. We might feel like being real with the stuff of our lives will scare unbelievers away, but I propose that the fakeness we choose instead is infinitely more frightening. Everyone knows that people have problems. Everyone knows that they themselves have problems! So if you walk into a group of people where no one seems to have any, what do you think? You think, I'll never fit in with these people. So another reason this fear of dealing with real issues in church is a problem is because it is actually driving away the broken people who desperately need to receive healing by being prayed for (and who God wants to make into the powerful and effective prayers who will then help restore others!).
Finally, and potentially most seriously, being fake in church will hinder our worship. We might think we can sneak in and deal with our problems alone with God and have ourselves fixed by the time we have to talk to anyone. The problem there is that God is looking for worshipers who worship him in spirit and in truth (John 4:23). If we won't be real with God and with our family, we can't worship him in the way he desires. This is serious stuff, and if you don't think so just read in Exodus and Leviticus about people who tried to worship God in unauthorized ways. If we want his healing presence to be with us, we have to be willing to worship in the spiritual integrity God is seeking. Otherwise, our thanksgiving (Greek: Eucharist) will amount to little more than empty words we use to avoid saying what we really mean.
So, why does it happen that we feel like all we can be at church is just fine and peachy-keen, etc.?
I think it probably comes down to fear, mostly. Just because we all have problems and we know it doesn't mean we necessarily feel comfortable sharing them with people! If our fear of being judged for the things that are still messed up about us trumps our desire to be healed from those things, we won't share, plain and simple. If we have a history of being judged, that makes things worse of course, as does seeing other people be judged in places (like church) where they should be welcomed instead. Put all those things together, and fear wins out a lot of times.
Also, I think there's a misunderstanding in the church of what the Bible really teaches about joy. When it says to be joyful in all circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:16), is that the same as being happy all the time? If the joy of the Lord is our strength (Nehemiah 8:10), and a fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22), are we weak Christians who don't have the Holy Spirit if we go through struggles and trials?
All of the answers are no, in case you're wondering. No one is "too blessed to be stressed" either (although some might be in too much denial not to smile). Joy is not the same thing as happiness, and godly joy is just as compatible with sorrow as with happiness. Jesus himself wept (John 11:35), but he was given the oil of joy more than all his companions (Psalm 45:7). He also got so stressed that he sweated blood (Luke 22:44). So godly joy must be something different than unceasing happiness. What if, instead, it's the ongoing security of knowing that eventually everything will work out for your good because it's all in the control of the all-powerful God who loves you? Then you can feel the pain of loss and brokenness without losing hope, and when you are happy you can be happy for the right reasons. That's the joy that will bring you strength.
One further note on why the problem of disingenuousness happens at church: it kind of gets to be a vicious cycle. No one wants to be the first person to do anything, so if no one is talking about any real stuff, it's that much harder for anyone to break the trend.
Which segues nicely into the last question: what can we do about this thing?
First, let me say that I'm no expert on this. I'm actually more of an expert on being fake, to be quite honest. All I know is that I deeply desire to be real, and I'm starting to learn what that means. So how can we be the ones to step out and start being real in the one place in all the world where the truth should win out? How can streetlights shine into darkness that has clouded the home of light?
The main thing I can see is that we have to start wanting more of God so desperately that we don't care about our own images. We have to care more about what he thinks of us than what anyone else does. This is what it means for him to be our Lord. His opinion is the final word, and what he says goes, no matter what it makes us look like. If we start believing that, maybe we can be the ones to step out and take the first risk. We can't make anyone else be real, but we can show them they won't die if they try it!
Also, we have to confess and repent of our judgmental spirits. This will allow us to bless other people who are real enough to be honest about their problems instead of comparing our own struggles to theirs to see how we stack up. All judgment is comparison, and all comparison is irrelevant because God's love is infinite. What if ours started looking more like his?
We also have to stop getting the truth backwards. It's not that God is so good that his followers shouldn't have any problems; He's so good because welcomes us in spite of them! He fixes them too, but for whatever reason he hasn't chosen to do it instantaneously in most cases. We have to let him be who he is in this instead of making him into a false image of what we want him to be.
I'm sure there is much more to be said on this topic-- does anyone else have any ideas to share on how we can help? I'll end with one I just thought of, which is actually the most important one: prayer. I want to start asking God to change the problems I see instead of just worrying about them. I want to talk less and pray more.
So-- God, change what you want to change. Make us more like you. Make your body whole. Let us walk in integrity, bravery, and community. Give us real relationships with real people, and let us worship you in Spirit and in truth. Amen.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Humanism vs. Glory
I recently heard an excellent message from a preacher to whom I would love to give credit for it, except I don't know his name. Anyway, I wanted to share the general gist of it in the hopes that it can spur others on to have some of the same thoughts and questions it sparked in me. (By way of at least some credit being given, I heard this message as part of a video compilation called the revival hymn which you can google and I encourage you to watch if you're feeling ready to be pummeled with convicting truth and challenging ideas for about 40 minutes. This thing rocked my world.)
Basically, this preacher started by describing how humanism has become the predominant worldview of our time. A quick and dirty definition of humanism: a philosophy that states that the ultimate goal of life/existence is the happiness of humankind. A lot of people (including Christians... we'll get to that in a moment) live like this is the case. Even if they don't think their position out philosophically all the way to full-on humanism, many at least arrive at its cousin, hedonism (or simple pleasure-seeking) as the driving principle of their lives.
All this is simply a natural part of humanity's ongoing attempt to flee from God as the source of meaning or reason in life. However, the problem as it relates to the church, to those of us who try to shine a light into the darkness, comes when this humanist influence starts seeping into Christianity. Biblical Christianity teaches that the purpose for our existence is to bring glory to God. The process by which we abandon God's glory and start living for happiness (either for all: humanism, or just for us: hedonism) is certainly a subtle one, and I don't really feel qualified to explain how it happens. I see in my own life that it does, though. Let me just share some questions that have been kicking around in my heart to hopefully shed light on what I mean.
Do I ask God for forgiveness because I want to feel better about myself or because I am really sorry for attempting to steal his glory through whatever prideful sin I indulge in?
Do I want God's guidance in my life because I want to feel safe, or because it will result in me taking part in his perfect plan to maximize his own praise?
Do we "do evangelism" as a means to fix the problems of the world and its broken inhabitants or because the Lamb of God shed his holy blood for these people and deserves to see them claimed by his love?
Do I even believe that God is justified in caring much more about his glory than our temporal well-being?
How would my life be different if I lived for God's glory instead of my own happiness?
See where I'm going with all this? The problem of humanism seems to be everywhere I look... all these ways that I've subjugated true Christianity to my own quest for ________ (fill in the blank: completion, happiness, fulfillment, simplicity etc.). The problem is not that God doesn't want to give me those things! It's just that pursuing them instead of God himself is like taking a medication because you want the side-effects, not the cure. We can get so distracted that we completely lose sight of the fact that we've been set free from the sin and bondage that was killing us.
And what is freedom, anyway? Not the ability to do whatever we want... but the ability to walk in the healing light of God's glory. The light we shine into the dark can't be our own, and it can't even be the elusive glow of happiness, whatever that is.
The only light that can really illuminate the dark streets of our city and our world is the light of the glory of God revealed in Christ.
We need to be preaching God as the all-consuming righteous lover of our souls, the glorious Lord of all things who rightfully deserves their obedience, NOT the means to happiness, not something to add to the lives we already have to make them better.
But first, before we start preaching it... we need to start living like it's true.
I've often heard it said that people are looking for something bigger than themselves to belong to that will give them meaning. Personal happiness is too self-centered-- I think many would willingly lay down most of life's comforts to really feel that they had meaning. No wonder people don't buy what the church is selling: if it's all about happiness it just isn't that different from all the other scams they've already gotten burned on. Only the overwhelming glory of God is enough bigger than us to be worthwhile.
How do we live for THAT? And how do we share it with others in such a way that they want it too? Although I have so far to go to really live this way, I long to pursue these things and see the church reflect them. How can we start living for God's glory in fuller measure?
Maybe if we loved unselfishly... not for what we could get out of it.
Maybe if we worshipped God... not music or a song or the show.
Maybe if we truly gave up our lives to God... instead of trying to fit him into our plans.
Maybe if we prayed God would save us from the ways we don't honor him... instead of the ways we aren't happy.
Maybe if we stopped chasing happiness long enough to truly be still in the presence of God.
"Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth." (Psalm 46:10)
God's glory WILL win in the end. I'd just like to be part of making that happen instead of getting myself in the way.
Basically, this preacher started by describing how humanism has become the predominant worldview of our time. A quick and dirty definition of humanism: a philosophy that states that the ultimate goal of life/existence is the happiness of humankind. A lot of people (including Christians... we'll get to that in a moment) live like this is the case. Even if they don't think their position out philosophically all the way to full-on humanism, many at least arrive at its cousin, hedonism (or simple pleasure-seeking) as the driving principle of their lives.
All this is simply a natural part of humanity's ongoing attempt to flee from God as the source of meaning or reason in life. However, the problem as it relates to the church, to those of us who try to shine a light into the darkness, comes when this humanist influence starts seeping into Christianity. Biblical Christianity teaches that the purpose for our existence is to bring glory to God. The process by which we abandon God's glory and start living for happiness (either for all: humanism, or just for us: hedonism) is certainly a subtle one, and I don't really feel qualified to explain how it happens. I see in my own life that it does, though. Let me just share some questions that have been kicking around in my heart to hopefully shed light on what I mean.
Do I ask God for forgiveness because I want to feel better about myself or because I am really sorry for attempting to steal his glory through whatever prideful sin I indulge in?
Do I want God's guidance in my life because I want to feel safe, or because it will result in me taking part in his perfect plan to maximize his own praise?
Do we "do evangelism" as a means to fix the problems of the world and its broken inhabitants or because the Lamb of God shed his holy blood for these people and deserves to see them claimed by his love?
Do I even believe that God is justified in caring much more about his glory than our temporal well-being?
How would my life be different if I lived for God's glory instead of my own happiness?
See where I'm going with all this? The problem of humanism seems to be everywhere I look... all these ways that I've subjugated true Christianity to my own quest for ________ (fill in the blank: completion, happiness, fulfillment, simplicity etc.). The problem is not that God doesn't want to give me those things! It's just that pursuing them instead of God himself is like taking a medication because you want the side-effects, not the cure. We can get so distracted that we completely lose sight of the fact that we've been set free from the sin and bondage that was killing us.
And what is freedom, anyway? Not the ability to do whatever we want... but the ability to walk in the healing light of God's glory. The light we shine into the dark can't be our own, and it can't even be the elusive glow of happiness, whatever that is.
The only light that can really illuminate the dark streets of our city and our world is the light of the glory of God revealed in Christ.
We need to be preaching God as the all-consuming righteous lover of our souls, the glorious Lord of all things who rightfully deserves their obedience, NOT the means to happiness, not something to add to the lives we already have to make them better.
But first, before we start preaching it... we need to start living like it's true.
I've often heard it said that people are looking for something bigger than themselves to belong to that will give them meaning. Personal happiness is too self-centered-- I think many would willingly lay down most of life's comforts to really feel that they had meaning. No wonder people don't buy what the church is selling: if it's all about happiness it just isn't that different from all the other scams they've already gotten burned on. Only the overwhelming glory of God is enough bigger than us to be worthwhile.
How do we live for THAT? And how do we share it with others in such a way that they want it too? Although I have so far to go to really live this way, I long to pursue these things and see the church reflect them. How can we start living for God's glory in fuller measure?
Maybe if we loved unselfishly... not for what we could get out of it.
Maybe if we worshipped God... not music or a song or the show.
Maybe if we truly gave up our lives to God... instead of trying to fit him into our plans.
Maybe if we prayed God would save us from the ways we don't honor him... instead of the ways we aren't happy.
Maybe if we stopped chasing happiness long enough to truly be still in the presence of God.
"Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth." (Psalm 46:10)
God's glory WILL win in the end. I'd just like to be part of making that happen instead of getting myself in the way.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Devotion
There's an old saying that goes, "Don't put all your eggs in the same basket." This is commonly regarded as wisdom, since obviously if you drop the one basket carrying all your eggs, you then have zero eggs, which would be the worst possible outcome.
I'm not sure it works that way in God's kingdom, though. Check this out:
"Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching and to teaching. Do not neglect your gift, which was given you through a prophetic message when the body of elders laid their hands on you. Be diligent in these matters; give yourself wholly to them, so that everyone may see your progress."
--Paul, in 1 Timothy 4:13-15
Paul is asking Timothy to put all his eggs in one basket. Devote yourself, be diligent, give yourself wholly. These are all or nothing phrases.
I think we shy away from approaching life like this for a couple of reasons. For one thing, devoting yourself to anything (which implies complete focus and being set apart for a task--similar to holiness, actually) is hard work by definition. It is all consuming, and a lot of us have trouble committing to things like that. So, laziness gets in our way.
Even deeper than that, though, I feel like we avoid this devoted lifestyle because of fear. We are somehow afraid that it won't turn out to be that great and we'll be left with nothing else after the eggs drop. We really don't think God's plan is the best, so we follow halfway just in case it is the best, while also making our own plans and holding onto those. It doesn't seem to work, but that doesn't usually stop us. Maybe that's why Jesus said we have to lose our lives to save them.
Then another thing we fear is the reaction of others. Paul comes right out and tells Timothy that everyone will see his progress: little or much, good or bad, it will be right out there. Streetlights are right out in the open, not hidden. If we devote our lives to following the Lord, people will be able to tell, and our successes and failures will be much more visible if we're willing to be real. I think that's why we paradoxically try to save face by not trying as hard as we can. That way if what we're doing fails, we always have the out that "we weren't really trying our very hardest." Who knows what would have happened if we were?
So that's where I find myself today. I know that I want to devote myself to following God, reading the word, and using my spiritual gifts. I want to be diligent. I want to devote myself wholly to this. I am also afraid. But, I know the times when I am most devoted to God are the times I am most free. The same decision presents itself every day, every hour, every moment. All I know is, regardless of my past choices, my current fears, or old sayings, right now I choose devotion.
I'm not sure it works that way in God's kingdom, though. Check this out:
"Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching and to teaching. Do not neglect your gift, which was given you through a prophetic message when the body of elders laid their hands on you. Be diligent in these matters; give yourself wholly to them, so that everyone may see your progress."
--Paul, in 1 Timothy 4:13-15
Paul is asking Timothy to put all his eggs in one basket. Devote yourself, be diligent, give yourself wholly. These are all or nothing phrases.
I think we shy away from approaching life like this for a couple of reasons. For one thing, devoting yourself to anything (which implies complete focus and being set apart for a task--similar to holiness, actually) is hard work by definition. It is all consuming, and a lot of us have trouble committing to things like that. So, laziness gets in our way.
Even deeper than that, though, I feel like we avoid this devoted lifestyle because of fear. We are somehow afraid that it won't turn out to be that great and we'll be left with nothing else after the eggs drop. We really don't think God's plan is the best, so we follow halfway just in case it is the best, while also making our own plans and holding onto those. It doesn't seem to work, but that doesn't usually stop us. Maybe that's why Jesus said we have to lose our lives to save them.
Then another thing we fear is the reaction of others. Paul comes right out and tells Timothy that everyone will see his progress: little or much, good or bad, it will be right out there. Streetlights are right out in the open, not hidden. If we devote our lives to following the Lord, people will be able to tell, and our successes and failures will be much more visible if we're willing to be real. I think that's why we paradoxically try to save face by not trying as hard as we can. That way if what we're doing fails, we always have the out that "we weren't really trying our very hardest." Who knows what would have happened if we were?
So that's where I find myself today. I know that I want to devote myself to following God, reading the word, and using my spiritual gifts. I want to be diligent. I want to devote myself wholly to this. I am also afraid. But, I know the times when I am most devoted to God are the times I am most free. The same decision presents itself every day, every hour, every moment. All I know is, regardless of my past choices, my current fears, or old sayings, right now I choose devotion.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Snow and Silence
Hmm... that title sounds like a good name for an Eskimo emo (Eskemo?) band... Can you see the hair across the eyes peeking out from the parkas? No? Ok, anyway...
I find myself a member of a distinct minority (at least here in Cleveland) of people whose favorite season is winter. Maybe it's the fact that it goes on for so long, is generally a uniformly overcast grey, and tends to send snow at just the right rate that you have to brush a quarter inch or so off of your car every time you want to get in it. I can see how it might be a little depressing to some. Whatever the reason, few people here seem to actually like it. For me, I'd much rather be a little cold than a little hot any day, but the main reason I love winter is because of the snow.
Now, I could go on and on about snow, as many have probably heard me do already. I've written poems about it, but I'll save those for another day. The main thing I'm thinking about today is how snow makes everything quieter. There's this muffling it achieves that is completely unique. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about: you walk outside after a fresh snowfall and everything seems quiet, even in the middle of the city. I love stepping outside at about 2am and hearing the beautiful softness. It helps me gather my thoughts, and the stillness seems to have a renewing quality to it.
Maybe the renewal is more in the quiet than the snow, though. It seems like our generation is the generation of noise. We're addicted to it. Just look at all the ways noise comes to us: as if tv wasn't bad enough all on its own, we also have radio for those few times when we don't have iPods (side note: the iPod is becoming one of those few lucky products whose brand name has become synonymous with the entire class of products it represents. Kleenex, Frisbee, Band-aid, etc... quite a marketing accomplishment) or cell phones pumping sound into our heads. Plus, those that can multitask do all this while also managing email, Facebook, or the aptly named Twitter.
Speaking of aptly named, how about this new thing Google (another of those dominant brand names, by the way) just came out with: Buzz. This has come crashing into my attention since it's automatically integrated into Gmail, of which I've become a strong supporter. In fact, this buzz deal will even show my blog posts whenever I update (although hopefully my readers will still visit my actual page... hopefully). We got to talking about it at my men's group though, and what name could sum up the general condition of our generation better than buzz? It's this constant dull hum of noise that we tend to keep around us that Google is desperately trying to become a part of. Thus, Buzz. Personally, I'm thinking seriously about disabling it for my account.
Here's why. It's not just an effort to keep people coming to see my actual blog, I promise. It's more of a symbolic stand. Silence, although run from by many and discouraged by our society, is actually extremely important. Buzz is like the opposite of silence, and the worst thing about it is that after so much noise, even when we do find ourselves accidentally in the quiet (like on a snow-covered street in the middle of the night), our minds are still spinning with all the things that have just been pumped into them. That can be unnerving, being alone with our spinning thoughts before God, so often we escape that by pumping in more noise. It can be quite the vicious cycle.
Anyway, I'm not just making up that stuff about snow and the power of quiet. The Bible has all kinds of things to say on the issue of silence too (although it doesn't specifically mention snow in that context, unfortunately). For example, "Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10). Pretty straightforward, I think: we know God better when we are still and quiet. Period. In fact, silence is quite simply the appropriate response to his power and overwhelming glory. "Let all the earth be silent before him" (Habakkuk 2:20); "Be silent before the sovereign Lord" (Zephaniah 1:7).
Or how about this one: "Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life" (1 Thessalonians 4:11). I haven't heard too much preaching about that verse. By the way, the word that is translated quiet here doesn't just mean peaceful-- it's translated as "silent" elsewhere in the New Testament. I mean, Jesus himself went away to quiet places to pray and escape the crowds. I'm guessing he knew that in the Old Testament, one of the reasons judgment came upon Israel was that "the noise of a carefree crowd was around her" (Ezekiel 23:42). Sounds an awful lot like our society today, doesn't it? Buzzzz....
Now, I don't want to seem like I'm bashing the concept of sound here or anything crazy like that. I mean, I was listening to music while writing the beginning of this post (until I started getting convicted about it) and I love making music before God, which we are also commanded to do (see Psalms 66, 81, 98, etc.); "Blessed are those who know the joyful sound" (Psalm 89:15 NASB). It's just that we have to know when to turn off the noise and meet with God in the silence. And really, how else can we expect to hear his voice? You wouldn't have your headphones blasting while your friend was trying to have a conversation with you, so why do we do that to God? True, sometimes he is gracious enough to shout down the noise of our lives, but I bet we'd hear him a lot more if we would just turn it off.
I'll finish with a streetlight lesson, because I can't resist it. What do streetlights do right before they're about to burn out? They buzz. This analogy obviously can't be pushed too far, but maybe buzz is a warning sign for us too. Too much of it, and we may well be getting unhealthy. As streetlights, we shine our best out of the silence.
I find myself a member of a distinct minority (at least here in Cleveland) of people whose favorite season is winter. Maybe it's the fact that it goes on for so long, is generally a uniformly overcast grey, and tends to send snow at just the right rate that you have to brush a quarter inch or so off of your car every time you want to get in it. I can see how it might be a little depressing to some. Whatever the reason, few people here seem to actually like it. For me, I'd much rather be a little cold than a little hot any day, but the main reason I love winter is because of the snow.
Now, I could go on and on about snow, as many have probably heard me do already. I've written poems about it, but I'll save those for another day. The main thing I'm thinking about today is how snow makes everything quieter. There's this muffling it achieves that is completely unique. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about: you walk outside after a fresh snowfall and everything seems quiet, even in the middle of the city. I love stepping outside at about 2am and hearing the beautiful softness. It helps me gather my thoughts, and the stillness seems to have a renewing quality to it.
Maybe the renewal is more in the quiet than the snow, though. It seems like our generation is the generation of noise. We're addicted to it. Just look at all the ways noise comes to us: as if tv wasn't bad enough all on its own, we also have radio for those few times when we don't have iPods (side note: the iPod is becoming one of those few lucky products whose brand name has become synonymous with the entire class of products it represents. Kleenex, Frisbee, Band-aid, etc... quite a marketing accomplishment) or cell phones pumping sound into our heads. Plus, those that can multitask do all this while also managing email, Facebook, or the aptly named Twitter.
Speaking of aptly named, how about this new thing Google (another of those dominant brand names, by the way) just came out with: Buzz. This has come crashing into my attention since it's automatically integrated into Gmail, of which I've become a strong supporter. In fact, this buzz deal will even show my blog posts whenever I update (although hopefully my readers will still visit my actual page... hopefully). We got to talking about it at my men's group though, and what name could sum up the general condition of our generation better than buzz? It's this constant dull hum of noise that we tend to keep around us that Google is desperately trying to become a part of. Thus, Buzz. Personally, I'm thinking seriously about disabling it for my account.
Here's why. It's not just an effort to keep people coming to see my actual blog, I promise. It's more of a symbolic stand. Silence, although run from by many and discouraged by our society, is actually extremely important. Buzz is like the opposite of silence, and the worst thing about it is that after so much noise, even when we do find ourselves accidentally in the quiet (like on a snow-covered street in the middle of the night), our minds are still spinning with all the things that have just been pumped into them. That can be unnerving, being alone with our spinning thoughts before God, so often we escape that by pumping in more noise. It can be quite the vicious cycle.
Anyway, I'm not just making up that stuff about snow and the power of quiet. The Bible has all kinds of things to say on the issue of silence too (although it doesn't specifically mention snow in that context, unfortunately). For example, "Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10). Pretty straightforward, I think: we know God better when we are still and quiet. Period. In fact, silence is quite simply the appropriate response to his power and overwhelming glory. "Let all the earth be silent before him" (Habakkuk 2:20); "Be silent before the sovereign Lord" (Zephaniah 1:7).
Or how about this one: "Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life" (1 Thessalonians 4:11). I haven't heard too much preaching about that verse. By the way, the word that is translated quiet here doesn't just mean peaceful-- it's translated as "silent" elsewhere in the New Testament. I mean, Jesus himself went away to quiet places to pray and escape the crowds. I'm guessing he knew that in the Old Testament, one of the reasons judgment came upon Israel was that "the noise of a carefree crowd was around her" (Ezekiel 23:42). Sounds an awful lot like our society today, doesn't it? Buzzzz....
Now, I don't want to seem like I'm bashing the concept of sound here or anything crazy like that. I mean, I was listening to music while writing the beginning of this post (until I started getting convicted about it) and I love making music before God, which we are also commanded to do (see Psalms 66, 81, 98, etc.); "Blessed are those who know the joyful sound" (Psalm 89:15 NASB). It's just that we have to know when to turn off the noise and meet with God in the silence. And really, how else can we expect to hear his voice? You wouldn't have your headphones blasting while your friend was trying to have a conversation with you, so why do we do that to God? True, sometimes he is gracious enough to shout down the noise of our lives, but I bet we'd hear him a lot more if we would just turn it off.
I'll finish with a streetlight lesson, because I can't resist it. What do streetlights do right before they're about to burn out? They buzz. This analogy obviously can't be pushed too far, but maybe buzz is a warning sign for us too. Too much of it, and we may well be getting unhealthy. As streetlights, we shine our best out of the silence.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Streetlights Playlist
Recently I've been asking the Lord kind of a strange question: "God, what do I like to do?"
I realize that might sound a little bit crazy, but the fact of the matter is that I've spent a lot of time worrying about what everyone else thinks and what they like me to do and be. So much, in fact, that I had actually lost sight of what I myself actually like to do. I know I talked a bit about this in a previous entry, but I've been trying to figure out what I actually care about as part of discovering my identity.
See, what I'm guessing is that the things I care really deeply about are things that God has placed in me for a reason, things he wants me to do something with. The part I'm still learning about is slicing through the fallen brokenness on top of all those things in order to find what's underneath.
Anyway, one of the things God has shown me that I really like to do and care about is music. That is a pretty broad category, but I still think that's the best way for me to put it. I love listening to almost all music, and I also like making music in any possible way. I have a song in my head constantly (although I unfortunately have no control over which one it is at any given moment), and I'm always humming, whistling, singing, playing or making a beat to something! So, I think God has given me this passion to glorify him.
The most obvious expression of that passion in action would be worship, which is a great way that I can use music for God's glory. I don't think worship is limited to my own singing or playing, though, which got me thinking about my music collection. I've noticed for awhile now that the idea of streetlights is a theme in the music I like to listen to, so I started looking through my library for any song that has to do with that. I found more than I was even expecting! Therefore, I'm pleased to announce and share with you my Streetlights playlist. All these songs either talk directly about streetlights (i.e. use that specific word) or otherwise remind me of Ephesians 5:8-14, my theme verse for this blog (and life in general really-- see first entry). Here it is:
1. Work: Jars of Clay
2. Sleeping In: Nevertheless
3. Illuminate: Project 86
4. Far & Gone: Day of Fire
5. Serial Sleepers: House of Heroes
6. Oh! Gravity: Switchfoot
7. Turn On the Lights: Sanctus Real
8. Shine With Me: P.O.D.
9. Sandbox Praise: Pax217
10. Burn For You: TobyMac (feat. Double Dutch)
11. Murexa: Falling Up
12. Shine: Newsboys
13. Sleeper: Everyday Sunday
14. I Need Love: Sixpence None the Richer
15. In the Light: dc Talk
16. Broken: Lifehouse
17. Light Up Ahead: Further Seems Forever
18. This Love: Stavesacre
I'm actually listening to this playlist as I write this, and it really encourages me, so I hope it can do the same for you. As it turns out, this playlist is almost exactly one 70 minute CD worth of fantastic music. If anyone is interested in hearing it, I would be glad to burn you a CD (which, by the way, is actually legal if it has no more than one song from any album. Record labels see it as free advertising rather than a copyright violation! And trust me, once you hear this music, you'll be interested in buying more of these artists' stuff). Also, I'm sure many of these songs can be viewed/listened to on Youtube, so check some of them out!
I'll finish with one more verse that has to do with the streetlight call. This verse seems to run through all the songs here as well, and it has inspired me for many years, since even before I thought about the idea of streetlights. Matthew 5:14-16-- "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven."
So it all comes back to worship in the end. Really, that right there is who I am, and who you are. Let that be my song.
I realize that might sound a little bit crazy, but the fact of the matter is that I've spent a lot of time worrying about what everyone else thinks and what they like me to do and be. So much, in fact, that I had actually lost sight of what I myself actually like to do. I know I talked a bit about this in a previous entry, but I've been trying to figure out what I actually care about as part of discovering my identity.
See, what I'm guessing is that the things I care really deeply about are things that God has placed in me for a reason, things he wants me to do something with. The part I'm still learning about is slicing through the fallen brokenness on top of all those things in order to find what's underneath.
Anyway, one of the things God has shown me that I really like to do and care about is music. That is a pretty broad category, but I still think that's the best way for me to put it. I love listening to almost all music, and I also like making music in any possible way. I have a song in my head constantly (although I unfortunately have no control over which one it is at any given moment), and I'm always humming, whistling, singing, playing or making a beat to something! So, I think God has given me this passion to glorify him.
The most obvious expression of that passion in action would be worship, which is a great way that I can use music for God's glory. I don't think worship is limited to my own singing or playing, though, which got me thinking about my music collection. I've noticed for awhile now that the idea of streetlights is a theme in the music I like to listen to, so I started looking through my library for any song that has to do with that. I found more than I was even expecting! Therefore, I'm pleased to announce and share with you my Streetlights playlist. All these songs either talk directly about streetlights (i.e. use that specific word) or otherwise remind me of Ephesians 5:8-14, my theme verse for this blog (and life in general really-- see first entry). Here it is:
1. Work: Jars of Clay
2. Sleeping In: Nevertheless
3. Illuminate: Project 86
4. Far & Gone: Day of Fire
5. Serial Sleepers: House of Heroes
6. Oh! Gravity: Switchfoot
7. Turn On the Lights: Sanctus Real
8. Shine With Me: P.O.D.
9. Sandbox Praise: Pax217
10. Burn For You: TobyMac (feat. Double Dutch)
11. Murexa: Falling Up
12. Shine: Newsboys
13. Sleeper: Everyday Sunday
14. I Need Love: Sixpence None the Richer
15. In the Light: dc Talk
16. Broken: Lifehouse
17. Light Up Ahead: Further Seems Forever
18. This Love: Stavesacre
I'm actually listening to this playlist as I write this, and it really encourages me, so I hope it can do the same for you. As it turns out, this playlist is almost exactly one 70 minute CD worth of fantastic music. If anyone is interested in hearing it, I would be glad to burn you a CD (which, by the way, is actually legal if it has no more than one song from any album. Record labels see it as free advertising rather than a copyright violation! And trust me, once you hear this music, you'll be interested in buying more of these artists' stuff). Also, I'm sure many of these songs can be viewed/listened to on Youtube, so check some of them out!
I'll finish with one more verse that has to do with the streetlight call. This verse seems to run through all the songs here as well, and it has inspired me for many years, since even before I thought about the idea of streetlights. Matthew 5:14-16-- "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven."
So it all comes back to worship in the end. Really, that right there is who I am, and who you are. Let that be my song.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Inside Out
I'll start today's entry with a poem. It's the most recent one I've written, not old stuff like what I've posted so far. In fact, no one has ever read this poem before whichever one of you gets here first! It's the first one of its kind, a streetlights premiere. Here it is:
Inside Out
isolation underneath impressive
unknown against accomplishment
doing always more being less
hiding in the center of circles
victories full of sound alone
another world in control
politeness over perversion
impeccable outside filthy
confusion masquerading completion
pride intertwining pain
admiration in place
of love impossible
because artificial
because unknown
Don’t let me miss you.
So, this is a highly personal poem, but I share it because I think that it doesn't apply only to me. There are some lessons in it that I'd love to spare anyone else the pain of having to learn the way I did. I guess it's specifically about my ongoing journey of figuring out who I am and learning to actually be that person. I'll give a little bit of my own backstory as well as some insight into my strange poetic method in order to hopefully explain this little poem.
In terms of poetic style, this one is really kind of a personal anomaly. As most of you already know, I'm a big fan of complete sentences and good grammar, sometimes to the point of being a bit anal about it. So here we have this poem that completely resists both punctuation and normal syntax until its very last line. Guess which line of the poem I wrote first and which one is the most important to understanding the whole poem...
I made all those unusual (for me) stylistic choices for a reason though. The best way I can describe what I'm going for in this poem requires a visual aid. Unfortunately, this is the internet, so you'll have to make your own since I can't really show you. Don't worry though, it's very simple and I'll walk you through it. Ok, so to see what this poem is like, you need a sock. Any kind of sock, it doesn't matter, but it does need to be one you aren't currently wearing. I'll wait while you go get one.
...
Ready? Alright, hold the sock in front of you, so you can look straight down into the hole. That top circle of the sock is like the last line of my poem. So, grab the sock by that with one hand, and with the other push the rest of the sock up from underneath so it ends up inside out (get it?) and upside down. Notice, that hole is still in the same place, but now you can see a lot more of what used to be inside it. It's also much less pretty than the outside of the sock, and more disorderly. All that crazy fuzzy stuff you can now see, along with any accompanying dirt, sand, toenail fragments, etc., represents the rest of my poem. Wasn't that fun?
Anyway, the idea I'm going for is that in a good poem, each line that actually appears (e.g. Don't let me miss you) should have all kinds of stored up meaning underneath the surface. This poem takes that one particular cry of my heart and turns it inside out so you can see the mesh and mess that it actually consists of. I've written other poems sort of like this before, now that I think about it, with endings that encourage reinterpretation of the whole rest of the poem in their light. Maybe I can start a new genre! "Sock poems"...
On the more serious side, though, I think the underlying issue of this poem is one that everyone can identify with. All of us want so badly to be loved, and we will really do just about anything to make that happen. The problem is, who we are is not what we do. I've spent (read: wasted) so much time in my life trying to conform my image to what I thought people wanted me to be. I specifically remember in middle school looking at the "cool kids" who picked on me and my friends and analyzing what made them cool. "Oh, so cool kids wear this and act like this... I can do that!" And you know what the scary and really sad thing is? To a pretty great extent, I did.
Now, I had determined beforehand that I would use the coolness I would obtain to be nice to people those other kids would be mean to. I did end up being able to do that in some ways, but I also became in other ways just as judgmental as those people I hated. I knew all along that I was worth more than they were giving me credit for, but unfortunately I solved that problem by trying to attain what was valuable in their eyes, not by realizing their standard was twisted. So while I did eventually largely escape their judgment, I did so by buying into their bankrupt standards of coolness.
To make a long story very short, the result of my quest to remake my image was, on the surface, successful. People started to think I was cool, girls started to pay attention to me, and I was loving it. I used my sense of humor to make myself the center of attention and used my accomplishments and skills in an attempt to force people to respect me. Below the surface, though, something very different was going on. I was in the process of actively forgetting who I was.
I started getting more and more stressed out, and that led into deeper problems like depression. See, constantly managing what everyone is thinking about you is a heck of a lot of work, and it was burning me out while I was unaware. I was thinking about every single action and decision based on what it would do to the image I was portraying to everyone. In the process, I was losing touch with what I actually wanted. I became all the ugly things in my poem while looking like I was all their exact opposites. Worst of all, I wanted love, but all I got was admiration. But how could anyone have actually loved me? They didn't know who I really was! Many admired my fake front or thought it was cool and had things together, but who was underneath? I was largely unaware myself, so how could they know?
Thankfully, God still knew what was underneath. He let me get to the desperate end of my remaking of myself in my own image, and then he came at that front with a sledgehammer. He used people that knew me before my front and some that he just supernaturally told about my issues to challenge me about who I really was. I felt like huge chunks of me were falling off as what was inside was painfully brought out. He showed me through a series of very painful circumstances how broken I was (am) and gave me no other choice but to admit it.
Then the strangest things started to happen. I had thought that God (and everyone else) would reject me if they saw the brokenness I was hiding. But as I became more honest about who I was and began to take off my many masks, I felt God's love more and more. And, people started being able to actually care for me, and for some reason, they wanted to do so! There's really no other word for it but grace.
Here's the thing: if God created us, then it stands to reason that only he knows what we are really made for. Only the maker would. So I think the only way we can ever hope to love anyone else or be loved ourselves is to know God. If we know him, he can tell us who we actually are and give us strength to walk in it. This enables us to love others and be truly loved for who we are in return. It's change from the inside out.
For me, I tried to change my outside to find love, and all it brought was destruction inside. Don't waste your time with that! Jesus wants to move on the inside and let the change flow out in "streams of living water" (John 7:38). Recently a friend of mine reminded me of the prayer of St. Francis. This prayer talks about that kind of inside out change and reminds me a great deal of the streetlights' call, so I'll finish with it (slightly amended with a prayer of my own that should be quite obvious):
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
God, O God, don't let me miss you.
Amen.
Inside Out
isolation underneath impressive
unknown against accomplishment
doing always more being less
hiding in the center of circles
victories full of sound alone
another world in control
politeness over perversion
impeccable outside filthy
confusion masquerading completion
pride intertwining pain
admiration in place
of love impossible
because artificial
because unknown
Don’t let me miss you.
So, this is a highly personal poem, but I share it because I think that it doesn't apply only to me. There are some lessons in it that I'd love to spare anyone else the pain of having to learn the way I did. I guess it's specifically about my ongoing journey of figuring out who I am and learning to actually be that person. I'll give a little bit of my own backstory as well as some insight into my strange poetic method in order to hopefully explain this little poem.
In terms of poetic style, this one is really kind of a personal anomaly. As most of you already know, I'm a big fan of complete sentences and good grammar, sometimes to the point of being a bit anal about it. So here we have this poem that completely resists both punctuation and normal syntax until its very last line. Guess which line of the poem I wrote first and which one is the most important to understanding the whole poem...
I made all those unusual (for me) stylistic choices for a reason though. The best way I can describe what I'm going for in this poem requires a visual aid. Unfortunately, this is the internet, so you'll have to make your own since I can't really show you. Don't worry though, it's very simple and I'll walk you through it. Ok, so to see what this poem is like, you need a sock. Any kind of sock, it doesn't matter, but it does need to be one you aren't currently wearing. I'll wait while you go get one.
...
Ready? Alright, hold the sock in front of you, so you can look straight down into the hole. That top circle of the sock is like the last line of my poem. So, grab the sock by that with one hand, and with the other push the rest of the sock up from underneath so it ends up inside out (get it?) and upside down. Notice, that hole is still in the same place, but now you can see a lot more of what used to be inside it. It's also much less pretty than the outside of the sock, and more disorderly. All that crazy fuzzy stuff you can now see, along with any accompanying dirt, sand, toenail fragments, etc., represents the rest of my poem. Wasn't that fun?
Anyway, the idea I'm going for is that in a good poem, each line that actually appears (e.g. Don't let me miss you) should have all kinds of stored up meaning underneath the surface. This poem takes that one particular cry of my heart and turns it inside out so you can see the mesh and mess that it actually consists of. I've written other poems sort of like this before, now that I think about it, with endings that encourage reinterpretation of the whole rest of the poem in their light. Maybe I can start a new genre! "Sock poems"...
On the more serious side, though, I think the underlying issue of this poem is one that everyone can identify with. All of us want so badly to be loved, and we will really do just about anything to make that happen. The problem is, who we are is not what we do. I've spent (read: wasted) so much time in my life trying to conform my image to what I thought people wanted me to be. I specifically remember in middle school looking at the "cool kids" who picked on me and my friends and analyzing what made them cool. "Oh, so cool kids wear this and act like this... I can do that!" And you know what the scary and really sad thing is? To a pretty great extent, I did.
Now, I had determined beforehand that I would use the coolness I would obtain to be nice to people those other kids would be mean to. I did end up being able to do that in some ways, but I also became in other ways just as judgmental as those people I hated. I knew all along that I was worth more than they were giving me credit for, but unfortunately I solved that problem by trying to attain what was valuable in their eyes, not by realizing their standard was twisted. So while I did eventually largely escape their judgment, I did so by buying into their bankrupt standards of coolness.
To make a long story very short, the result of my quest to remake my image was, on the surface, successful. People started to think I was cool, girls started to pay attention to me, and I was loving it. I used my sense of humor to make myself the center of attention and used my accomplishments and skills in an attempt to force people to respect me. Below the surface, though, something very different was going on. I was in the process of actively forgetting who I was.
I started getting more and more stressed out, and that led into deeper problems like depression. See, constantly managing what everyone is thinking about you is a heck of a lot of work, and it was burning me out while I was unaware. I was thinking about every single action and decision based on what it would do to the image I was portraying to everyone. In the process, I was losing touch with what I actually wanted. I became all the ugly things in my poem while looking like I was all their exact opposites. Worst of all, I wanted love, but all I got was admiration. But how could anyone have actually loved me? They didn't know who I really was! Many admired my fake front or thought it was cool and had things together, but who was underneath? I was largely unaware myself, so how could they know?
Thankfully, God still knew what was underneath. He let me get to the desperate end of my remaking of myself in my own image, and then he came at that front with a sledgehammer. He used people that knew me before my front and some that he just supernaturally told about my issues to challenge me about who I really was. I felt like huge chunks of me were falling off as what was inside was painfully brought out. He showed me through a series of very painful circumstances how broken I was (am) and gave me no other choice but to admit it.
Then the strangest things started to happen. I had thought that God (and everyone else) would reject me if they saw the brokenness I was hiding. But as I became more honest about who I was and began to take off my many masks, I felt God's love more and more. And, people started being able to actually care for me, and for some reason, they wanted to do so! There's really no other word for it but grace.
Here's the thing: if God created us, then it stands to reason that only he knows what we are really made for. Only the maker would. So I think the only way we can ever hope to love anyone else or be loved ourselves is to know God. If we know him, he can tell us who we actually are and give us strength to walk in it. This enables us to love others and be truly loved for who we are in return. It's change from the inside out.
For me, I tried to change my outside to find love, and all it brought was destruction inside. Don't waste your time with that! Jesus wants to move on the inside and let the change flow out in "streams of living water" (John 7:38). Recently a friend of mine reminded me of the prayer of St. Francis. This prayer talks about that kind of inside out change and reminds me a great deal of the streetlights' call, so I'll finish with it (slightly amended with a prayer of my own that should be quite obvious):
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
God, O God, don't let me miss you.
Amen.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
The Bubble
These are some of Jesus' words on the challenge of being a light in the darkness, which he prayed to his Father for us in anticipation of the problems his streetlights would face:
Have you ever noticed how Christians have their own little set of catchphrases that we throw around like so many theological frisbees? You know, those little buzzwords that we've used so much that we don't even quite think about their meaning anymore but just assume that other Christians will understand? The ones that make people who aren't Christians go "I'm sorry, what now?" Well, This passage is probably the origin of the Christianese saying that we should be "in the world, but not of it."
But, before I go any further, I henceforth move that people who are trying to be streetlights avoid speaking Christianese at all costs, because of two main problems with it:
1.) It makes non-Christians, the very people we want to serve, love and share truth with the most, think we're crazy and want nothing to do with us and our elitist lingo.
2.) These trite little sayings dramatically minimize the true power and worth of the Bible, and also of our calling. This passage is a prime example of that.
Take a look at it: our little catch phrase version of this passage can only tell us that we find ourselves in this place that we don't really belong, so we should live here without letting the sins and customs of the world stain us and hinder our purposes. Not only does this shallowness not even begin to cover the heart of the passage, it also perpetuates what is probably the single biggest shortcoming of the Christian church today, a phenomenon I like to call the Christian Bubble.
This bubble mentality comes, as far as I can tell, from a line of thinking something like this: Well, we aren't supposed to be of the world, but we can't get out of it. So, maybe the best way to do that is to insulate ourselves from it. We'll form a protective shell around ourselves made out of catchphrases and exclusively "Christian" products so that no one else can relate to us. That way, we can interact only with other Christians and not be somehow tainted by the affairs of the world.
As my sarcasm should surely indicate, I think this way of living is ridiculous and completely unscriptural (although, unfortunately, all too easy to fall into). Look again and see what the scripture above actually says for us to do. Jesus could easily have prayed for God to actually take Christians out of the world, but he specifically did NOT do that. He wants us here. Why? Because of the message of good news we're supposed to be bringing (which it says two verses later than where I stopped quoting in that passage above).
Further, who is supposed to be protecting us from the world? Not us, with our walls and insulatory bubble. Jesus prays that God the Father would do the protecting! Why fear being tainted? If we go with the right heart, the protection is already provided. I don't know exactly why Christians treat people who don't believe in Jesus like they're carrying some kind of deadly contagion, but it has to stop. How can we love people if we're afraid of them?
Speaking of love, how does that passage say that we are sent? Exactly like the Father sent Jesus! First off, that's really encouraging, that we're privileged to share his message. But, it's also quite the challenge, because how did Jesus relate with the world? If you're thinking he loved it and served it, you're right because Jesus loved to get in the middle of people's lives with his radical kindness and relate to them right where they were. Still, that doesn't quite cover it. To really be sent into the world like Jesus was, as this verse commands, means we lay down our lives for it in order to bring people to God. Jesus was completely spent on this mission, and that is our call as well. Sounds a little different than just "in, not of," no?
Side tangent: Unfortunately what the Christian community has been doing instead of spending itself in love and pursuit of the people God calls them to reach is insulating itself. Heaven forbid that we listen to and like the same music as people "of the world." Why do that when we can make a lower quality, dumbed down version of the same product and then market it only to ourselves, since there's so many of us? And why stop at music! We can do this with movies, books, toys, t-shirts, etc. etc.... the possibilities are endless. Why would we need to be conversant with the mainstream culture that is all people we need to love will know?
Funny thing about that way of thinking and marketing is, it takes the world's stuff, then modifies it (usually making it worse) and takes it away to its own little protected zone. That's being of the world, but not in it, the exact opposite of what the strategy is supposed to be doing!
This is the Christian Bubble. And as it relates to Cleveland specifically, its line of thinking continues by saying, "why live in the city where the actual problems are, when we can settle in the suburbs and fence ourselves into a gated community?" See how the insulation works? Now, I'm not saying everyone has to live within the city limits to serve God, just that suburbia provides a perfect layer of insulation from the world for people looking for one. In reality, the suburbs have plenty of problems that Christians living there could address too if they were living like Jesus sent them to live. I mean, where do you think city drug dealers make their biggest sales? (If you don't know, the answer is to rich kids from the suburbs.) The suburbs just hide their problems better.
Anyway, all of that was kind of an extended sidebar to the main point. I don't mean to be a downer, even though I am a touch cynical and angry about all this. The truth is, Jesus has promised us the most fulfilling life imaginable in taking his message to the world, not in avoiding it.
Incidentally, that's the reason I like Stavesacre, my favorite band in the world (http://www.stavesacre.com/). All the members of the band are Christians, but they rebel against the Christian bubble and take their music to secular locations and just rock it out. They make a quality product that offends some Christians, but they don't seem to care. They're calling people to more than the bubble. Their song "It's Beautiful Once You're Out Here" (video available on Youtube) is about this, as is another older song, "Sundown Motel." I'll quote from that one to finish off this entry:
Turns out that the call of the streetlight is for Christians and non-Christians alike: "Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." I mean, a streetlight, by definition, brings light where? Not in some little protective covering placed around it, but in the streets.
We've been in a bubble far too long. But some of us are starting to break out...
"I have given them your word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world. My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world." (John 17:14-18)
Have you ever noticed how Christians have their own little set of catchphrases that we throw around like so many theological frisbees? You know, those little buzzwords that we've used so much that we don't even quite think about their meaning anymore but just assume that other Christians will understand? The ones that make people who aren't Christians go "I'm sorry, what now?" Well, This passage is probably the origin of the Christianese saying that we should be "in the world, but not of it."
But, before I go any further, I henceforth move that people who are trying to be streetlights avoid speaking Christianese at all costs, because of two main problems with it:
1.) It makes non-Christians, the very people we want to serve, love and share truth with the most, think we're crazy and want nothing to do with us and our elitist lingo.
2.) These trite little sayings dramatically minimize the true power and worth of the Bible, and also of our calling. This passage is a prime example of that.
Take a look at it: our little catch phrase version of this passage can only tell us that we find ourselves in this place that we don't really belong, so we should live here without letting the sins and customs of the world stain us and hinder our purposes. Not only does this shallowness not even begin to cover the heart of the passage, it also perpetuates what is probably the single biggest shortcoming of the Christian church today, a phenomenon I like to call the Christian Bubble.
This bubble mentality comes, as far as I can tell, from a line of thinking something like this: Well, we aren't supposed to be of the world, but we can't get out of it. So, maybe the best way to do that is to insulate ourselves from it. We'll form a protective shell around ourselves made out of catchphrases and exclusively "Christian" products so that no one else can relate to us. That way, we can interact only with other Christians and not be somehow tainted by the affairs of the world.
As my sarcasm should surely indicate, I think this way of living is ridiculous and completely unscriptural (although, unfortunately, all too easy to fall into). Look again and see what the scripture above actually says for us to do. Jesus could easily have prayed for God to actually take Christians out of the world, but he specifically did NOT do that. He wants us here. Why? Because of the message of good news we're supposed to be bringing (which it says two verses later than where I stopped quoting in that passage above).
Further, who is supposed to be protecting us from the world? Not us, with our walls and insulatory bubble. Jesus prays that God the Father would do the protecting! Why fear being tainted? If we go with the right heart, the protection is already provided. I don't know exactly why Christians treat people who don't believe in Jesus like they're carrying some kind of deadly contagion, but it has to stop. How can we love people if we're afraid of them?
Speaking of love, how does that passage say that we are sent? Exactly like the Father sent Jesus! First off, that's really encouraging, that we're privileged to share his message. But, it's also quite the challenge, because how did Jesus relate with the world? If you're thinking he loved it and served it, you're right because Jesus loved to get in the middle of people's lives with his radical kindness and relate to them right where they were. Still, that doesn't quite cover it. To really be sent into the world like Jesus was, as this verse commands, means we lay down our lives for it in order to bring people to God. Jesus was completely spent on this mission, and that is our call as well. Sounds a little different than just "in, not of," no?
Side tangent: Unfortunately what the Christian community has been doing instead of spending itself in love and pursuit of the people God calls them to reach is insulating itself. Heaven forbid that we listen to and like the same music as people "of the world." Why do that when we can make a lower quality, dumbed down version of the same product and then market it only to ourselves, since there's so many of us? And why stop at music! We can do this with movies, books, toys, t-shirts, etc. etc.... the possibilities are endless. Why would we need to be conversant with the mainstream culture that is all people we need to love will know?
Funny thing about that way of thinking and marketing is, it takes the world's stuff, then modifies it (usually making it worse) and takes it away to its own little protected zone. That's being of the world, but not in it, the exact opposite of what the strategy is supposed to be doing!
This is the Christian Bubble. And as it relates to Cleveland specifically, its line of thinking continues by saying, "why live in the city where the actual problems are, when we can settle in the suburbs and fence ourselves into a gated community?" See how the insulation works? Now, I'm not saying everyone has to live within the city limits to serve God, just that suburbia provides a perfect layer of insulation from the world for people looking for one. In reality, the suburbs have plenty of problems that Christians living there could address too if they were living like Jesus sent them to live. I mean, where do you think city drug dealers make their biggest sales? (If you don't know, the answer is to rich kids from the suburbs.) The suburbs just hide their problems better.
Anyway, all of that was kind of an extended sidebar to the main point. I don't mean to be a downer, even though I am a touch cynical and angry about all this. The truth is, Jesus has promised us the most fulfilling life imaginable in taking his message to the world, not in avoiding it.
Incidentally, that's the reason I like Stavesacre, my favorite band in the world (http://www.stavesacre.com/). All the members of the band are Christians, but they rebel against the Christian bubble and take their music to secular locations and just rock it out. They make a quality product that offends some Christians, but they don't seem to care. They're calling people to more than the bubble. Their song "It's Beautiful Once You're Out Here" (video available on Youtube) is about this, as is another older song, "Sundown Motel." I'll quote from that one to finish off this entry:
I don't believe this is what God ever intended, so I think it's time to go... The sun is going down, I say we follow it out of town, We've been here for far too long... and in the morning, when it rises, maybe it will shine for us...
Turns out that the call of the streetlight is for Christians and non-Christians alike: "Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." I mean, a streetlight, by definition, brings light where? Not in some little protective covering placed around it, but in the streets.
We've been in a bubble far too long. But some of us are starting to break out...
Monday, May 4, 2009
A new beginning, an old name
Today is the first school day in the past 17 years or so on which I can say that I am not a student. I mean, I guess I don't technically graduate for another two weeks, but I've turned in all my work so I'm done. I can't believe it! And may I say, it feels pretty good.
So, in some ways, the inception of this blog marks my transition into what some like to call "the real world," whatever that is. As I exit academia for the time being, though, I find that I have a lot of thoughts stirring inside me that I'd like to share, and I'm hoping that other people might find them interesting. The only way of finding out, I think, is to put them somewhere in the public view and see what happens.
I think I'll begin at what I see as the beginning. If you've known me for awhile, you recognize the name in the url for this blog. I've had that online name for I don't even know how long. So even though this time in my life is a new beginning, I chose to keep it because it really sums up what I want to be, and what I want this blog to be. I'll start, then, with the story of this old name.
I imagine that streetlights are a phenomenon with which most will be familiar, although suburbanites may not have seen one for awhile. The numbers attached, 5814, are the real story here. The reference being made by those numbers is quite literally a reference: Ephesians 5: 8-14. It says:
The connection of the verse to streetlights is fairly obvious, I suppose. The passage talks about being a light in the darkness and making things visible, which is obviously what streetlights do. To understand the more personal connection for me, you need to know three things:
1. There is a streetlight directly outside my bedroom window.
2. My house is old and doesn't have AC, so in the summer the windows are always open.
3. I am one of the world's lightest sleepers.
So, in the summertime, all it takes is one gust of wind strong enough to move the curtains for me to have a streetlight shining right on my face, which never fails to wake me up instantly. Wake up, O sleeper! Get it?
In all seriousness, though, I think that God's light has the same effect. I want to bring that kind of light that shocks people awake to my darkened city... The kind of light that makes things visible... The kind that raises the dead. God knows that Cleveland needs it, and he's looking for a generation of these kinds of lights (That's why it's not just a singular streetlight). I'm sure I'll be writing more on that topic later, but for now that's what this whole thing is all about and why I feel the impetus to do this (even though I guarantee that some of my posts will be nothing more than random and nothing short of ridiculous).
A final thought on streetlights to close for today: Recently, Christy Wimber spoke at my church, and she said something (although I don't think she's the original author of it) that I don't think I'll ever forget: "Set yourself on fire, and people will come from miles around to watch you burn." That's how I want to serve God. And it's fitting, because in the early church, Christians really were streetlights in the most literal sense: Nero would coat them in pitch, stick them on posts and light 'em up so people could see at night on the roads. So while I'm not planning to die anytime soon, that kind of radical commitment is inspiring. I'll light up this city whatever way I can.
So, in some ways, the inception of this blog marks my transition into what some like to call "the real world," whatever that is. As I exit academia for the time being, though, I find that I have a lot of thoughts stirring inside me that I'd like to share, and I'm hoping that other people might find them interesting. The only way of finding out, I think, is to put them somewhere in the public view and see what happens.
I think I'll begin at what I see as the beginning. If you've known me for awhile, you recognize the name in the url for this blog. I've had that online name for I don't even know how long. So even though this time in my life is a new beginning, I chose to keep it because it really sums up what I want to be, and what I want this blog to be. I'll start, then, with the story of this old name.
I imagine that streetlights are a phenomenon with which most will be familiar, although suburbanites may not have seen one for awhile. The numbers attached, 5814, are the real story here. The reference being made by those numbers is quite literally a reference: Ephesians 5: 8-14. It says:
"For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.
Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord. Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. For it is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret. But everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for it is light that makes everything visible. This is why it is said: 'Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.' "
The connection of the verse to streetlights is fairly obvious, I suppose. The passage talks about being a light in the darkness and making things visible, which is obviously what streetlights do. To understand the more personal connection for me, you need to know three things:
1. There is a streetlight directly outside my bedroom window.
2. My house is old and doesn't have AC, so in the summer the windows are always open.
3. I am one of the world's lightest sleepers.
So, in the summertime, all it takes is one gust of wind strong enough to move the curtains for me to have a streetlight shining right on my face, which never fails to wake me up instantly. Wake up, O sleeper! Get it?
In all seriousness, though, I think that God's light has the same effect. I want to bring that kind of light that shocks people awake to my darkened city... The kind of light that makes things visible... The kind that raises the dead. God knows that Cleveland needs it, and he's looking for a generation of these kinds of lights (That's why it's not just a singular streetlight). I'm sure I'll be writing more on that topic later, but for now that's what this whole thing is all about and why I feel the impetus to do this (even though I guarantee that some of my posts will be nothing more than random and nothing short of ridiculous).
A final thought on streetlights to close for today: Recently, Christy Wimber spoke at my church, and she said something (although I don't think she's the original author of it) that I don't think I'll ever forget: "Set yourself on fire, and people will come from miles around to watch you burn." That's how I want to serve God. And it's fitting, because in the early church, Christians really were streetlights in the most literal sense: Nero would coat them in pitch, stick them on posts and light 'em up so people could see at night on the roads. So while I'm not planning to die anytime soon, that kind of radical commitment is inspiring. I'll light up this city whatever way I can.
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