shadows of the divine

a christian defense of limited competition: part three

2010-06-16T10:37:00.001-05:00

Superficial and Arbitrary versus Pure and Arbitrary Competition: Thoughts on Sports and Fanaticism

To my own surprise, I have come to believe that playing sports—and to a lesser degree, watching sports—can aid in Christian discipleship. However, to make sports a useful tool it must always be kept within the confines of superficial and arbitrary competition. Whenever games and sports are played or vicariously enjoyed for the primary purpose of finding a winner over a loser—pure and arbitrary competition—they forfeit the good that competitive activities have to offer discipleship.

There are plenty of examples of how competitive activities have benefited followers of Jesus. First of all, it takes incredible discipline to accomplish some of the feats in sports. As a high school teacher, I had the opportunity to watch students work with unmatched resolve to accomplish the goals they had set for themselves or their teams. Usually, though not always, that discipline carried over into other areas of their lives.

Also, sports or games can teach us the art of building community—collaborative hard work aimed towards a common goal is incredibly effective to this end. Teams learning to work together, to appreciate the role of every individual, to compensate for the weaknesses of some and make room for the strengths of others, all of this is training in the kind of body that Jesus instructs us to be.

Finally, competitive activities can create a new avenue for us to acquire particular goods that would otherwise be very difficult to attain. For example, some may find it difficult to incorporate healthy physical activity into their lives, but find that playing racquetball with a friend is both easier to gain motivation and still allows time for fellowship. Thus, competitive games can generate a more interesting and structured way to accomplish a good.

There are many more examples, I am sure, but one thing must be kept in mind—when competition is ultimately about finding a single victor, these goods are polluted. Community, self-discipline, joy, health—these goods, and others like them, can be shared by all who participate and must always be the primary purpose for which one engages in games or sports. When these goods are eclipsed by the desire to win, that competitive activity has ceased to be an instrument for discipleship and becomes an indulgence in pride. When establishing a winner over a loser becomes the primary reason for sports or games, one discovers that fellowship becomes rivalry, virtuous discipline becomes vicious conceit, health is turned to injury, and love becomes a strange concept that has no context.

Keeping competitive activities within the confines of superficial arbitrary competition and making sure everyone wins at the end of the day is incredibly difficult. There are very strong currents that move against this task. Cultural pressure says that winning must be the point, anything else is absurd. Personally we feel our pride resisting the humility of seeking the good of others first. But this is precisely why competitive activities like sports can be such a good tool for discipleship. These forces, in society and in ourselves, are exposed. They can be resisted and they can be overcome. Yet, we must not neglect the responsibility to resist them, for many have already justified their surrender to social norms and human nature.

Can we say, “It is just a game” without our insides aching? We need to be rid of the desires that well up and resist that possibility. We must be able to set aside pride, selfish ambition, and conceit. We must let it be just a game, just a tool for the goods that we all can share. And it is hard to do this when playing a competitive game, but surprisingly, it seems our culture has made it even more difficult to say “it is just a game” when watching it.

Fanaticism versus Spectatorship

In this section I want to consider what it means to be both a follower of Jesus and one who enjoys sports vicariously through sports teams in which they do not directly participate. To be a fan, shortened from the word fanatic, is to have an uncritical, arbitrary enthusiasm or zeal for something. In our current context, I assume that thing to be a sports team. While location or some other arbitrary personal connection, like a childhood memory or alma mater, seems to be the most common reason for allegiance, there is generally no principled reason for one’s fanaticism. Thus, the most common expression of sports fanaticism is a vicarious form of pure and arbitrary competition. Again, I believe that pure and arbitrary competition is the least likely kind of competition to resemble the way of Jesus and, therefore, believe that there must be an alternative to sports fanaticism if Christians are going to continue to vicariously engage in sports. I believe the alternative is spectatorship, allowing sports to be superficial and arbitrary, allowing all who watch to be edified.

In defense of sports fanaticism—swearing allegiance to one team—one might say that fanaticism serves the purpose of fellowship, or unity building. That is, the purpose for choosing one team is to deepen the connection one has to fellow fanatics. While unity and fellowship are definitely goods to be desired, and fanaticism has historically proven to offer this, building unity by choosing an arbitrary opponent or enemy is the worst kind of unity. Creating fellowship by arbitrarily alienating others is certainly not the way of Jesus. Unfortunately, my experience verifies the dangers of this kind of behavior. It is much too often the case that friendships and marriages, brotherhood and communities, are strained because of an arbitrary allegiance to teams. I wish this were an overstatement.

Still another objection might be that fanaticism is fun, it is the most pleasurable way to vicariously engage in sports. Even if that were true, though I am certain it is not, fun and pleasure alone can never serve as a justification. If we allow the fact that something is simply more pleasurable to justify our behavior, we can justify any indulgent and despicable action. However, I believe the alternative to fanaticism, what I am calling spectatorship, will open up a deeper level of enjoyment in vicariously engaging in sports.

One of the flaws of fanaticism is that it undermines the virtue of the game. By virtue of the game I mean the best possible expression of the rules, best use of strategy within those rules, and highest potential of the specific skills needed in the players (for example, the virtue of a knife is sharpness, durability, etc.; the virtue of a baseball is roundness, proper density and size, etc.). The most obvious reason for cheering during a game is when it is virtuous—when a player makes a skillful maneuver, when an effective strategy is employed, when rules are accurately enforced, and so on. Rather, fanatics prefer to demonize every action of the “opposing” team, refusing to acknowledge the virtue that has been displayed. Thus, one who truly loves the game, as opposed to a team, and is willing to cheer for virtue is even “worse” than the opposition, deserving of the most violent derision. To be a team fanatic means one must swear an uncritical allegiance to a team, even when the team lacks all the virtues of the game, undermining the very thing that the players have trained to accomplish. (It should not surprise us then, given this kind of conditioning from childhood, that people find it so natural, and so necessary, to swear uncritical allegiance to a nation or a political party or a religious group, no matter how virtuous.)

I do not mean to say that one cannot follow a team, have a preferred winner, or feel a connection to a particular team or player. Rather, I want to make a case for a slightly more detached, more critical approach than fanaticism, what I have been calling spectatorship. To cheer for the virtuous elements of the game, to appreciate excellence no matter who displays it, to be critical of even one’s preferred team would create a unity in spectatorship that fanaticism could never offer. Kansas and Missouri fanatics should let go of their arbitrary allegiances and find unity in an appreciation of the game. This would completely disarm the vicarious pure and arbitrary competition that is dissonant with discipleship and turn it into something mutually beneficial to all who engage in it. Even though the preferred team lost, everyone still wins—a good and virtuous game was played and enjoyed.

Recently, a friend of mine invited me to watch a basketball game with him. This man was older and wiser than me, so I decided that, though I saw little value in the game, I might benefit from the time spent with him. It turns out I learned quite a bit. I was pleasantly surprised to see that, though he had a preference that one team win over the other, he was equally impressed by the skill of each and every player, regardless of the team. Many times throughout the game he reminded me of the hours of hard work that must be invested into the few seconds it took to execute a play. He spoke critically about the character of the players, appreciating the patience and concentration of some, but disappointed in the egotistical, rash, or hostile behavior of others. When the game had concluded, the team that he preferred lost, but he was not angry or sad, rather he expressed gratitude that he had the opportunity to see such skill and hard work portrayed on his television—he said it was a good game. I suppose true fanatics will cringe, but this is how I imagine a follower of Jesus would enjoy a sports game.

This experience opened my mind to a possibility that I had unfairly ruled out early on in life—watching sports can be beneficial. I believe if fanaticism can be transformed into spectatorship, then watching sports is much like engaging good music, paintings, literature, or film. A friend of mine once told me that Michael Jordan was “poetry in motion”—I am not quite the romantic he is, but I think I am closer to understanding his statement. The skill and discipline of an athlete, the excellent strategy of a coach, the flawless unity of a team, can inspire a person in the same way great works of literature can inspire a person.

Of course, we have kept this discussion somewhat romanticized, pretending that sports and spectatorship are always purely about the game, though we know that it is—or has become—something much less attractive. It is not always only a game, but often it is also a business, bringing with it a much deeper complexity of competition. To support a group of athletes is one thing, but to support the business practices of administrative sports millionaires requires a very different critical approach.

a christian defense of limited competition: part two

2010-01-17T16:34:00.001-06:00

A Working Definition

First, let us get clear about what is meant by competition and form a working definition for this essay: competition is the rivalry between two or more people or communities for an end that cannot be shared equally. By this definition, I mean to say that competition is a struggle for first place, for a victory over the opponent, for the higher grade, for the desired job, for a piece of land, and so on. Beyond this, we will find that competition can be either pure or superficial, and that it can be either arbitrary or principled. That is what I would like to sort out now.

Pure Competition and Superficial Competition

The first of our sorting to be made is between pure and superficial competition. Pure competition is a strict adherence to the definition above and, at the core, is a struggle for the sake of victory over an opponent. That is, the purpose of the struggle is to be distinguished as a winner over the loser.

In contrast, superficial competition is a struggle that is undertaken, not ultimately for victory, but for an end that can be equally shared. Playing Wii Tennis with a group of friends, either because one wants to increase hand-eye coordination or because one wants to have a good time, would be an example of a struggle aimed at an end that can be shared equally among all participants. I call this superficial because, in the end, everyone gets what they set out for--everyone is a winner--which seems to contradict the very definition of competition. It is only competition at the surface.

In short, superficial competition means winning the struggle or game is secondary to the primary goal of having fun or developing certain skills or so on. And conversely, pure competition means the primary goal is always victory, no matter the secondary benefits, and the loser is primarily a loser, no matter the secondary benefits.

To distinguish between the two one can simply ask whether the struggle would be stopped if a goal other than victory were not being accomplished. That is, would one turn off the Wii if people are no longer enjoying one another's company? If so, it is superficial because the primary goal is having fun not finding a winner. However, if one persists in Wii Tennis, despite the fact that one or all have ceased to enjoy the game, then it is pure because the primary goal is to find a winner.

Arbitrary Competition and Principled Competition

Now we turn to the distinction between arbitrary and principled competition. Arbitrary competition describes the situations where the opposing sides have no objective or principled reason why they should be engaged in a struggle or why one opponent should win over the other; there are only relative gains or personal interests. For example, it is arbitrary whether the Boys beat the Girls in a game of Catch Phrase. While there may be a desirable gain for the Boys, such as bragging rights or vindication, there is no objective reason to believe that the Boys should subdue the Girls. That is, the Boys are certainly invested in a victory, but the Girls are equally invested; deciding which one ought to win is completely relative to the interests of the individuals involved.

This may make more sense when contrasted with its opposite, principled competition. In this case, the struggle is undertaken on the basis of a principle and there is an objectively desirable victor; it is a matter of principle that one side win over the other. For example, we can imagine a scenario where a greedy landlord has manipulated the law, taking advantage of a family and driving them out of their home, all the while making significant financial gain in the process. It is an objective matter of justice that one engages in a struggle—in this case, a legal battle—to be victorious over the other. This does not mean that there are not relative gains and personal preferences involved. Indeed, the landlord, and likely his attorney as well, have an interest in being victorious, protecting the money he has acquired unjustly. Yet, I would argue that there is a principled, objective reason why the family should be victorious--it is a matter of right and wrong, justice and injustice, truth and falsity, good and evil.

One can judge between these two by asking the question, "Will the world truly be better off if one side is victorious over the other?" In the case of arbitrary competition, the answer would be no—at least, from an objective point of view. I do not want to get ahead of myself, but in the case of sports, one might feel as though the world will be better if their team wins, but one must finally admit that this is completely arbitrary. However, in the case of principled competition, the world does objectively benefit from one side winning over the other, as in the example of the landlord and the family. If the family wins in the legal struggle, the world has objectively become a more just place is better off because of it.

Of course, one could complicate this distinction by raising a question about the nature of objectivity. However, the purpose of this essay is to give a Christian defense of limited competition, and therefore I take for granted some basic Christian presuppositions. Namely, that there is objective truth and morality; that this morality is revealed through scripture; and that while there may be conflicting views on the interpretation of scripture, Christians are committed to each other in love, resulting in a humble community that seeks to find truth in and through their disagreements. All that is to say, while there may not be an easy way to parse out an agreeable distinction between principled and arbitrary competition, we can certainly agree that there is a right answer to the question.

To take our definition of competition yet one step further, we may combine these distinctions in order to more accurately describe just what kind of competition we are discussing. So, we may talk about a pure and principled competition such as a debate about legalizing incest. Or we can talk about a superficial and arbitrary competition such as a little league baseball game. Or finally, we may talk about pure and arbitrary competition such as most business in a capitalist economy. (As for a superficial and principled competition, there can be no such thing—or at least I cannot think of an example.) In the following parts I would like to consider these combined distinctions even further and then draw some conclusions about a Biblical perspective on competition.

a christian defense of limited competition: part one

2010-01-07T14:59:00.004-06:00

To be completely honest, competition is one of the most difficult subjects for me to address without a bias. I have never stood up well in highly competitive situations, and thus, have grown to despise them. So there may be some underlying prejudices that I am not aware of that influence the conclusions that I make. But, to my credit in this endeavor, I have ended with a conclusion that I had not held when I started. That is, I have discovered some of those biases, thought through them critically, and then finding them unfounded, have chucked them out the window. This has allowed me to see competition in a new, and hopefully more accurate, light. I suppose I would like to challenge everyone to that same end. I am certain there are many biases on this subject--let us be rid of them and submit ourselves to the discipleship of Jesus.

My goal in writing this essay has become an effort to isolate a particular kind of competition that is consistent with the guiding principles of Christian morality laid out in the life of Jesus and revealed through scripture. After a lot of discussion and study, I have come to the conclusion that there is a form of competition that can be positive for discipleship, though I think the parameters are narrow.

The Guiding Principles

What are the relevant principles by which a Christian should judge whether competition is good for a person or society? That is the question that I would like to answer at the outset; I would like to adjust the focus on our critical eye so that we may clearly see the parts that are in harmony or conflict with the worldview given to us by Jesus through scripture.

First, I would like to consider humility. Humility is one of those traits in Jesus that the secular world has a difficult time understanding or respecting, and therefore, has been something that the Church has tried to excuse or even deny. Yet, the second chapter of Philippians gives a vivid, undeniable example of the kind of humility that Jesus models. The chapter opens with this admonition: “Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” Whatever we conclude about competition, we should agree that forfeiting our humble concern for the well-being of others would be a violation of our discipleship.

Along the same lines of humility, James 3:13-18 tells us to put off selfish ambition, an important thing to evaluate in a discussion about competition, and instead take up a more Jesus-like wisdom: “Who is wise and understanding among you? Let him show it by his good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom. But if you harbor bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast about it or deny the truth. Such 'wisdom' does not come down from heaven but is earthly, unspiritual, of the devil. For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice. But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace raise a harvest of righteousness.”

Again, not straying too far from what we have already laid out, Paul says in Colossians 3, “Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” These particular “articles of clothing” can be summed up in the principle that Jesus, in his Sermon on the Mount, calls meekness. We should certainly maintain a meek character, even in competition, if we want to follow Jesus and “inherit the earth”.

Of course, all of these things are bound up in the essential principle of love. Paul gives a description of this love, what he calls the most excellent way, in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

What is interesting, and incredibly challenging, about Jesus’ call to love is that he is radically liberal with it. That is to say, he offers it to everyone, and to a shockingly painful degree. He not only commands his followers to love each other, but also their enemies. He makes it clear what he means by this by allowing his enemies to execute him, and then prays for God to forgive them for it. This is the kind of radical love that Jesus expects of his followers, and it is the kind of love that we should not violate in our concept of competition.

Now our critical eye should be in focus with these guiding principles as we consider how competition might benefit the ongoing discipleship of a follower of Jesus. Once again, to prepare our minds, here is the list of the relevant principles we have found in scripture: meekness, compassion, kindness, gentleness, patience, mercy, submission, humility, righteousness, peace, being considerate of others’ well-being, impartiality, sincerity, and finally, love. Is there a form of competition that we can participate in without losing these virtues? And if so, is there a compelling reason to employ such competition? These are the questions I will seek to answer in the next three parts that will follow.

goodness... it is cold

2009-12-14T17:26:00.000-06:00

I remember walking to class in the winter when I lived in Manhattan. I would bounce my eyes between the sidewalk and the poor souls around me, not wanting to fall on my ass but not wanting to miss them falling on their asses. So many winter afternoons were brightened in the Blue House with hilarious stories of the cartoon-like slips we had seen that day.

I also remember walking in the freezing weather when, usually in front Wefald's house, I would begin praying... Was winter your idea? It is so painful, so deadly. How did California get off the hook?

I would also begin to recognize the blessing that the bitter cold brought. As I regularly tell Sara, it is invigorating! Somehow, I remember those walks very fondly.

Suffering tends to have this pattern for me. I remember being a cabin leader at a summer camp and feeling totally spent the final weeks of the summer... the last weeks when I was constantly on the verge of tears because I hadn't really slept for two months. These are the weeks that I cherish the most.

I grew up in a home that wasn't always welcoming. I remember sitting in my friends living room after leaving an ugly fight at my house... my closest friends were sitting there with me, feeling my pain with me, and struggling to find some reason to laugh with me. This is one of my favorite memories.

I know I am saying nothing new... I guess I am reminding myslef that there can be goodness in...through...after... the cold and the pain. More than that, I am calling myself out. If so much of my life is a testimony of how suffering can bear such beautiful fruit, why do I sit in all of these warm places?

dancing is still unchristian

2009-09-07T14:06:00.000-05:00

I do not dance. Most people who know me at least know that. Unfortunately, the little girls at Love in Action did not know this about me when I suggested that we celebrate one of our last evenings together. They innocently insisted that I join them on the roof-top where they intended to teach me some traditional Indian dancing. I explained that my body is not capable of such things... that someone might get hurt... that dancing is not Christian... that no human should ever be so undignified.

Thankfully, it was late enough at night that there was very little light shed on my complete loss of dignity. I could not turn down twenty orphan girls. It was humiliating, it was ugly, and it was dangerous for those who got too close. The girls were overtaken by laughter as they watched me hop and stumble and bow and twirl and kick and... hell... I don't know what I was doing. We all stopped to catch our breath after each song--the girls were laughing too hard, I was simply out of shape.

But ultimately, I believe this experience was one of the more beautiful of my many lovely experiences in India. The beauty was in forgetting myself; it was a rare moment when I was totally free from my pride.

That night we celebrated God: the One who saves us from evil, hunger, poverty, and ourselves.

the sights

2009-08-19T01:56:00.016-05:00

a tea leaf

lots of tea leaves

breakfast on a banana leaf

villains at rest

wild elephant

divine elephant

chennai beach cart

gandhi in chennai

healthcare

after school snack

lost appetite

working from home

capitalism

simplicity

fashion

two-wheelers

a modern indian

an old indian

a long ride

a family ride

Meet the children from Love in Action:

making faces

creating a distraction

preparing for dinner

the smile

the story-teller

the baby

shyness

bubbles

the sass

the sweetest

Indian faces with dignity:

selling guavas

emotional pose one

emotional pose two

emotional pose three

emotional pose four

from india

2009-07-05T10:45:00.000-05:00

Hello friends…

I hope the summer has been treating you well. The weather is so beautiful here in India. It is monsoon season, which means it is a lovely seventy degrees, sometimes a little cooler… definitely not what I expected. Besides enjoying the weather and the food, I have been helping out at an orphanage in Bangalore and will spend the last week in July visiting another very famous orphanage near the southern tip of India. Somewhere in between, on my way to the south, I think I am going to go on a safari. I am pretty excited about the detour. I have also had plenty of time to think here… and after a mere three weeks in India I have come to three unrelated conclusions. If you have the time to read a lengthy post, I would like to share them with you.

One of the few conclusions that I have made is about my friends at home, the few great people I have had the privilege of living my life with these last few years—they are of the rarest kind. I have often boasted of the quality of people that God has placed in my life, though I secretly wondered whether this was exaggerated because of my lack of experience. I am happy to say, after traveling to the opposite side of the planet, I have a new confidence on this matter and intend to boast even more in God’s provision. My brothers and sisters in Christ are truly something special and I am humbled that God would allow me to have such a fellowship. I miss them very much.

Perhaps my second conclusion is a bit bold for only a few weeks, but it seems safe to say it: I will not be the same after this visit to India. I have been staying at an orphanage in Bangalore that is filled to capacity with about twenty children. It is a very humble space, about the size of a typical two-story house in America… but lacking many of the luxuries. However, I can say with confidence, that the children here have a wealth unmatched in the prosperous homes of America. They possess true freedom through discipline, daily prayer, regular labor, and most importantly, loving fellowship. The name of the orphanage—Love in Action—describes this place as precisely as words are able. The family that started this ministry, and who has welcomed me into their home (which is the orphanage itself), is truly the most loving group of people I have met. Please allow me to take a moment to introduce them:

Enoch, the patriarch I suppose, is an elderly but vibrant man who is full of wisdom and humility, someone I already deeply respect. His wife, who I call Auntie, is a frail old woman in her frame, but her strength as a mother and wife over the years is astonishing. And finally, their daughter, Nancy, displays such tenderness to both her extensive collection of animals as well as to all twenty children—she is the essence of motherhood.

There are many ways God is using this orphanage in my life, but I will share just one of the experiences here that will likely change me forever. Shortly after I arrived, I had the privilege of seeing the children celebrate Father’s Day. I felt a little awkward honestly… Father’s Day in an orphanage… I did not know what to expect. After breakfast, the children announced that they would be hosting an event that evening and would like for us to attend… upstairs. Of course we went, arriving upstairs at the specified time. The children put together an elaborate performance of song and traditional dance, praising their Heavenly Father. At the end, the children also honored Enoch for providing for them and protecting them. I cried the entire time. I kept remembering all the verses I have read about justice—many of which are related to orphans—and felt as though all my recent clumsy efforts to grasp a Biblical vision for social justice were radically challenged by the simplicity and humility of love in action.

Another less personal conclusion I have made is that Americans have a lot to learn from India, particularly about democracy and social justice. In a sense, there are more social injustices—at least more obvious ones—in India than there are in America. However, there is a strong voice for the poor and the oppressed which is a great victory for both democracy and justice. In the words of an Indian economist, Amartya Sen, “Silence is a powerful enemy of social justice.” Democracy is tangible here, whereas, in America, it is like a faint memory that we now look on with skepticism. Just one example: I have seen street-side demonstrations from the Communist Party, the Hindu Fundamentalists, and the dozen political parties in between. People join together to make their variety of concerns heard and are not limited by the narrowness of our two-party system.

Indian politics have also raised many questions I am eager to explore. For instance, secularism here has a totally different connotation. It is, in fact, promoted by all the Christians that I have met. This is partly due to a different understanding of the concept. For the Indian, secularism more or less means religious freedom, as opposed to the Western sense of the absence of religion in the public sphere. In other words, Indian secularism emphasizes religious ‘neutrality’ while Western secularism emphasizes religious ‘prohibition’. Could this kind of secularism be better for America? More importantly, is this secularism, with great irony, advancing the Kingdom of God in India? I am still asking these questions.

I look forward to returning and sharing our summer experiences with one another. I miss everyone so much.

Sincerely…

taste and see

2009-05-26T14:15:00.002-05:00

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel described the challenge of celebration as reconciling God's view of creation with our experience of it. That is, God created the world and called it good... celebration is the task of engaging in the world as it ought to be... as God sees it. Of course, this is difficult given our regular encounters with evil, ugliness, and brokenness. And we find this is even more difficult when we recognize our own broken desire for ugliness rather than goodness and beauty. Indeed, celebration is a challenge.

The good life, as the Bible reveals it, is not so far from what has been intuitive to most cultures. Many worldviews will suggest that happiness, enjoyment, or mere pleasure are necessary elements of a good life. Humanism, for instance, tries to measure the quality of life using precisely these characteristics. I do not think they have misunderstood what makes a life good, but rather how one might attain these things. From this naturalistic viewpoint, it is a matter of equations, of experimentation and medication. By fully investing in the science of pleasure, the good life could eventually be patented and sold at your local pharmacy.

In Psalm 34 King David sings, "Taste and see that the Lord is good..." suggesting that we must experience the good Lord with our senses; goodness is something our taste buds and eyes and hands and ears can discover. This kind of experience, when we are attentive to the uniqueness of the moment, sensing the divine gift of goodness, recognizing the personal Creator through his masterpiece... when we engage in the world as it was created to be... this is celebration, this is worship. We are required to live a life of celebration, a life of goodness. The life that is attentive to the good Lord, while it may require sacrifice, can only be described as good. David says that, "Those who look to the Lord are radiant." The good life is certainly one filled with joy and beauty, for, "Those who seek the Lord lack no good thing."

But the Biblical approach to the good life is different than that of the Humanist. David continues in his song, "Whoever of you loves life and desires to see many good days... turn from evil and do good..." Goodness is found in obedience. We must do good if we want to experience it. For King David, to "taste and see" meant to live by God's statutes, by His law, by His revealed word: Psalm 119 says, "How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!" A good life is a life of good action. It is a moral life. But this is not in opposition to the other intuitive qualities of a good life. Rather, to live a morally good life is to simultaneously live a life of pleasure. What is sweeter than a good deed? What meal does not taste better when it is shared? And because worship is a moral action, all aesthetic qualities are enhanced when we engage them with God. That is, a daisy is brighter and more fragrant when we see it with God. It is a matter of obedience to engage in creation as God created it to be... to reconcile God's view of the world with our experience of it.

Only the Creator, the One who defines goodness by his being, can reveal to us what is good. If we are to experience a good life by doing goodness, we must learn what it is to do good. The good life is revealed in the Word made flesh. Jesus lives life as it is meant to be lived, experiencing the world with God, perfectly obedient. Jesus' obedience to God was radical, unprecedented; no one in in human history had lived a life of such obedience. The essence of this obedience is love. To say that Jesus was perfectly obedient is to also say that Jesus loved perfectly. Thus, doing goodness, as revealed through Jesus, is to engage all of creation with love. To smell a flower,to chew a meal, to heal a wound... all of these things must be done with love if we want to experience goodness. Everything Jesus did was with love, and when we follow Jesus, we are choosing goodness... the honey-sweet life of love.

But this is curious... his perfect obedience, or love, led to suffering, not pleasure. It is because as the Suffering Servant, Jesus not only models the good life, he redeems it and all the ugliness around him. It is our ugliness and brokenness that killed Jesus, yet somehow God overcomes it and writes the most beautiful story in the universe through the love of Jesus. That is redemption. Making ugly things good and beautiful again. Our lives, no matter how ugly we have made them, can be beautiful again, for "love covers a multitude of sins." God is rewriting and redeeming and restoring through the powerful turning-point in humanity's story when the love of Jesus makes beauty possible again. The long, lonely life of a man who has been destroyed by alcoholism is made into a beautiful story of love and redemption because he chooses to follow the way of Jesus. This is the joy that was set before Jesus as he endured Calvary, and it gave his suffering a profound sense of true goodness. The good life has been redeemed and opened to us. Our choosing to follow Jesus, to do goodness, will transform any life from ugly to beautiful and good.

To say it as concisely as I can, the good life is life as it was intended to be, and therefore it is a life guided by an obligation to its Creator. Yet, this is obligation does not rob us of beauty and pleasure, but the very opposite. By doing goodness as God has revealed it through Jesus, by engaging the the world with Love himself, we can "taste and see that the Lord is good."

jesus and history.

2009-02-13T17:19:00.014-06:00

Jesus may be one of the most misconceived historical figures of all time. For too long in America the study of the gospels was done with a total lack of historical context. Now, however, there is an abundance of scholarship on the historical Jesus, so that even if a careful student of the gospels does their homework, he (or she) finds the conflicting information overwhelming. I found myself in the midst of this crisis about two or three years ago. It brought me to the office of the famous (at least, famous in my little world) professor of history, Dr. Linder, with a desperate plea for some guidance. Since then, I have found that the study of the gospels, in their historical context, is not only absolutely essential to being a disciple, but refreshingly possible.

... ... ...

Jesus was a Jew. Jesus lived within the culture of first-century Judaism. Jesus spoke the language of his culture, used imagery from his culture, and made historical and geographical references that were specific to his culture. Jesus never rode a carnivorous dinosaur that was preserved by Noah on his ark. I don't expect any of this is a surprise.

Though, just a little over sixty or seventy years ago, much of this could have been seen as a scandal. Due to the liberal, naturalistic work of several late nineteenth-century German scholars, American fundamentalists became extremely skeptical of any talk of a historical perspective of Jesus. These German scholars stripped Jesus of all of his supernatural qualities--healing, prophecy, Godhood. It was definitely cause for alarm. Yet it should not have led to the kind of skepticism that would reject any historical supplement to the reading of the gospels. It should not have swung the pendulum to the extreme conclusion that Jesus transcended time and culture completely--that Jesus should only be understood through a simple reading of the biblical text.

This pendulum swing forced us to cram our western, enlightenment culture into a first-century Jewish text. This left Jesus with incomprehensible comments and uncomfortably strange behavior. This pendulum swing forced us to gloss over all of Jesus' ministry and emphasize the stuff we could make sense of... Jesus was born in a manger, died for our sins, and was raised from the dead. Never mind all the stuff in between... the words about the Jewish law handed down for centuries, the prophets and their hope for a messiah, the rabbinical debates of the day, the oppressive Roman empire, the misguided violent revolutions, the disgraceful temple built by Herod, the economic injustices that haunted the land, and most confusing of all, the reoccuring theme of the Kingdom of God.

But perhaps we have moved past this strict fundamentalism and are prepared for a serious study of the gospels within their historical context. Unfortunately, we move forward only to find a new block in the road. Which books do we read? Which scholars do we trust? Where do we start in this massive sea of conflicting information?

This is precisely where I found myself a few years ago. I had read any and every thing I could find on the historical Jesus (my first mistake) and entered into a minor crisis of faith. On one hand, I found what I had considered heroes of the Christian faith offering flimsy, uninformed defenses of Jesus as the son of God (the Bible says it, I believe it--cause if you don't you will have hell to pay). And on the other hand, I found very academic presentations of a historical Jesus that looked nothing like the one I found in the Bible.

This latter group, the seemingly academic presentations of a historical Jesus, turned out to be scholars with heavy agendas. Of course, any study of Jesus is motivated by an agenda from the start, but this group claims to be the untainted, honest look at the whole subject. I am talking about the Jesus Seminar--a closed group of authors and scholars who get together and vote on what is true about Jesus (John Dominic Crossan and Marcus Borg are just couple of names you might find at Borders). They vote on which documents suit their perspective of Jesus and which documents are contaminated with the power-hungry, mind-controlling church hierarchy. These men have set out to liberate humanity from the evils of the oppressive 'Christian Jesus' by revealing the true, historical Jesus. This is, of course, a Jesus who is anything but biblical. If it is contrary to scripture, it seems to have an automatic credibility.

I do not mean to say that everything they publish is wrong, it simply means they do not have the right to claim an objective study of the historical Jesus that overrules any biblical conclusions one makes about Jesus. Much can be learned from the Jesus Seminar if one accurately understands their approach to history from the start--they begin with the naturalistic assumption that Jesus cannot possibly be God. They continue the tradition of those nineteenth-century German scholars with new energy.

The lack of scholarship in my life, followed by the abundance of it, finally shook me enough to seek some help on this essential part of my faith. I went to my professor in desperation, "How can I make sense of this historical perspective of Jesus?" He handed me a book by N.T. Wright called, "Jesus and the Victory of God." It was massive, intimidating, and promising... so I read it. It explained all of the approaches to the historical Jesus, made sense of the books I read, and lead me to books I should read. It laid out a historical approach to Jesus that also respected scripture... in fact, it gave tremendous credibility to the bible as a historical document, not just a book of religion. It began to make some sense out of all the stuff in between the birth and the death of Jesus. It gave a profound explanation to the core of Jesus' teaching, the Kingdom of God (a subject I had already become curious about). It opened up a door for me to begin a relationship with Jesus that I had not been able to grasp with the stripped-down, fundamentalist approach that I had grown up with. It gave me courage in my studies--I finally felt like there is more to my faith than flimsy apologetics, tight-fisted dogmatism, and a hearty fear of Hell.

So the point of all of this babbling is to say this: my personal experience as a disciple of Jesus has led me to the conclusion that I must maintain the posture of a student--a student of Judaism, a student of the gospel, a student of theology, a student of history, a student of science, and a humble student of Jesus himself--if I want to understand the message that has already been transforming the world.

enemies.

2009-02-03T19:47:00.013-06:00

"Can you love your enemies and still kill them?"

I asked my students this question today and their brains melted. Nevertheless, the overwhelming majority of them said yes. They had one reason: we have to win wars.

... ... ...

I know this a tired subject, but when I look at these students, who I thoroughly love by now, and see this wretched kind of confusion, my heart hurts. All of their heros are murderers, not martyrs. You can see why following a Messiah that peacefully died at the hands of his enemies is a brain-melter. If you do not murder, than you are a coward, a hippie... you are unamerican.

... ... ...

Recently, I have been trying to work out the connection between hope and imagination. I still have a ways to go, but for now, I will simply state that war is hopeless because it totally lacks imagination. This is not only to say that war shows a lack of creative energy to find alternatives to violence, though that is true, but I mean to say more than that. I think war is hopeless because it shows that we do not have the will or ability to imagine life after resurrection.

... ... ...

If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' lend to 'sinners,' expecting to be repaid in full. But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. ~ Luke 6:32-36

... ... ...

It is tough to imagine nonviolence as a practical way of life. There are numerous situations that we can dream up where we would intuitively use violence to solve the problem: to save our own lives... to rescue the ones we love... to defend the helpless child... and so on. The latest Rambo movie was all about that intuition. I certainly have those same intuitions. But what if we really believed death was not the end of the story? What if Christians really believed that all the pain and suffering they currently endure would be erased in a flash. Perhaps loving enemies makes more sense when we consider the end of the story.

... ... ...

This is the message you heard from the beginning: We should love one another. Do not be like Cain, who belonged to the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Because his own actions were evil and his brother's were righteous. Do not be surprised, my brothers, if the world hates you. We know that we have passed from death to life, because we love our brothers. Anyone who does not love remains in death. Anyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life in him. This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. ~ 1 John 3:11-18

merely three of many.

2009-01-17T14:57:00.016-06:00

This semester I am teaching my students about the Life and Ministry of Jesus. We just recently discussed the various ways Jesus is perceived and the problems that they present. These pictures represent just three of the things that have confused our understanding of Jesus: Historical Ignorance (this picture is from a "beginner's bible coloring book" and distorts history on so many levels), Nationalism (it is impossible for patriots, both then and now, to reconcile their view of victory with Jesus' true victory by dying peacefully at the hands of his "enemies"), and Gnosticism (I may post something later to explore this more... but for now, I simply want to point out that Jesus is a ghost, which reveals the total lack of care we have taken to fully understand the resurrection).

giving thanks for flesh.

2008-11-29T15:03:00.006-06:00

Flesh. All sorts of things come to mind when we hear this word: ham and giant turkey legs, naked bodies, evil inclinations and internal spiritual struggles.

The ancient Greek philosophers tell us that the body is a prison, and that our soul must finally escape this flesh and return to the spiritual realm from which it came. The body is a source of pollution, corruption, and evil to the soul. This world, where physical things like bodies run around, is an alien place to the soul and its only salvation from this evil place is found in freeing the mind from bodily and worldly evil. If this freeing of the mind is accomplished, these disembodied souls will return to their home in the heavenly realm. If the mind is not sufficiently purged of these evil worldly things, then the souls will fall back to the earth, into another flesh-prison, for yet another go at the whole process.

The ancient rabbis, in their many commentaries on the Hebrew scriptures, make a great effort to remind us that we will not only be held accountable to things such as greed, indulgence, and lust... but we will also be held accountable for those things that we were able to enjoy but did not. That is, they believe God has given us beauty and the ability to receive it, and it is equally offensive to ignore it as it is to worship it.

They come to this conclusion because they see God as a creator of both mankind and the world in which they inhabit. All of it, once it was completed, God said was very good. God made men and women, and their purpose was to enjoy and have dominion over the rest of creation. So, a fundamental part of being a human is participating in the rest of the created realm--mankind was never meant to exist outside of the created world. When the humans refused their place as mere creatures, and instead insisted on godhood, God placed the curse of death and decay upon the whole world. Thus, redemption and salvation is not to avail one's soul of the evil flesh-prison, but to restore all of creation to its intended, non-decaying, state and to destroy death. Humanity's redemption cannot be separated from the entire world's redemption.

I say all of this because I want to make it clear that when I say I am thankful for turkey stuffing and a stuffed belly, I am only expressing my God-given humanity. And I want it to be understood that I am not straying from my Judeao-Christian roots when I say that my mom's new sweet potato recipe, featuring pecans and oranges, is part of all of our redemption.

This thanksgiving, I am giving thanks for the flesh that God has created.

a question.

2008-11-24T13:21:00.004-06:00

Is it always wrong to tell a lie?

I have asked my seniors to either defend or critique 'situational ethics' and it has turned out to be very beneficial for both me and my students. So... I thought I would pass it on.

Let me know what you think.

dying.

2008-10-05T17:26:00.025-05:00

I have heard that at about twenty-five years old the human body undergoes a major change. The body begins to lose cells faster than it reproduces them. That is, there are more cells that are dying than there are cells being born. Essentially, I am withering like the plant that sat beside my toilet, until its extremities curled and the lively green receded back to the soil, leaving a brown, crusty shell. I should have watered it more, I admit, but the problem of death remains in the biology, not my lack of attention to thirsty organisms.

I am dying. I cannot do a darned thing about it.

I bring this up partly because I am a withering twenty-five year old and that scares me. But I also think I am beginning to understand the hope that is wrapped up in resurrection. Every Sunday I affirm my belief in a bodily resurrection and I generally marginalize that confusing concept. I would not be surprised if that is how it is treated by most people, most of the time. Yet, from one dying person to another, I think the topic is quite relevant.

Last week I asked my students if they were going to be raptured. They said yes. I asked them if they would go to heaven. They said yes. I asked if heaven was a spiritual realm, outside of this physical world. They said yes. I asked them if they were going to take their physical body with them...to this non-physical, spiritual realm. They looked at me. I told them that there is no such thing as a rapture.

I told them that in the nineteenth century a pastor named John Nelson Darby was distressed by the corrupt society all around him. Even more discouraging, there was a serious decline in church attendance. Darwin's idea of evolutionary progress and the healing powers of science were becoming the new secular hope and it seemed to threaten the foundations of Christianity. From Darby's point of view, the world seemed to be falling apart. Out of this mess, and the alleged vision of an Irish peasant girl, Darby came up with the novel idea of a secret rapture. He thought that the world would crumble into pieces and that God would come and rescue his chosen ones from the worst part. I told my students that this was the first time the doctrine of the rapture was presented in the history of the Christian faith.

They were shocked, skeptical, concerned.

After recovering their senses, they angrily insisted that it doesn't matter. Why do we argue about things that do not have anything to do with how we live? Jesus loves us, we love him, and we are going to heaven. End of story. The details do not change a thing.

I then told them that in the history of the Church, eschatology (what happens at the resolution of the big story) has been one of the most important factors in defining how one lives as a follower of Christ. If one believes that God is only interested in saving souls, and then rescuing us out of this evil place, why should we feed hungry bodies, build orphanages, dig wells, stop oppressive governments? Wouldn't it be more Christian to have a revival... to tell people they are sinners but Jesus still loves them... to invite them down to the altar to accept the free ticket to heaven, bought with the blood of Jesus? If the rapture could happen tomorrow, tonight, before I finish this sentence, shouldn't we focus our energy on the only eternal thing, the soul? Jesus told us to live as though he would come back at any moment. It would be seen as antithetical to God's purposes if we wasted our time investing in the temporal world. The Church should not be influenced by secular philosophies that tell us to seek things like peace on earth, the cure for poverty, the end of oppression. In fact, if the world gets worse, it just means Jesus' return is getting closer.

However, if we believe that when Christ returns, instead of beaming us up, he comes down and establishes his Kingdom for eternity, we will have a different perspective of what it means to seek his Kingdom. It is not about longing to leave this world, but to see this world made different. We would pray, like Jesus, that God's Kingdom come, His will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.

If we believe that Jesus is coming back to this earth as a judge... and that he hates oppression and injustice... that he expects empty stomachs to be filled and fat wallets to be emptied... then we will work towards peace on earth, the cure for poverty, and the end of oppression. We will labor for the coming Kingdom, knowing that when our Savior returns, he will demand to know why we did not feed him when he was hungry, clothe him when he was naked, or visit him when he was in prison.

If this is the resolution of the story, that the earth is transformed into what God intended it to be, we begin to see that we get to participate in this coming Kingdom. We have the privilege to work towards justice and peace... we get the honor of doing the work of our Lord. We feed hungry bellies and heal broken bodies because this is what God is up to in his Kingdom. Jesus said that this is the gospel that he brings--the good news to the poor--that God's Kingdom is coming. It is here even now, but it will be here in its fullness soon.

This brings me back to withering twenty-five year olds. See, we do not consider death our friend; it will not deliver us from this hell on earth. Instead, we consider it our enemy; it corrupts the world that God called very good. We believe that when Jesus shows up, bodies will be resurrected, transformed, made new with a biology that knows no decay and cells that do not die. Bodies that do not wither. Because, when Jesus returns to this earth, he will finally defeat our last enemy... death. And it is not only the soul that is eternal, but the body as well.

We are dying. We cannot do a darned thing about it... but... Jesus will.

"Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

'Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?'" -I Corinthians 15:51-55

with hands over our hearts.

2008-08-18T10:13:00.032-05:00

Every morning, at the school in which I work, the students that surround me stand to their feet, set their hands to a posture of sincere devotion, and pledge their allegiance to a national symbol, and to the nation that it represents. Nothing shocking really. I would not have thought twice about it a few years ago. But now I find myself standing in front of the classroom, silently staring at this very familiar symbol, and nervously fidgeting with my tie to avoid placing my hand across my heart. I look out of the corner of my eye... hoping that they will not notice... hoping they will not ask... hoping they will not tell their parents.

A pastor, who I deeply respect, recently accused my generation of viewing patriotism as unchristian. I wrote to tell him that, as far as I am concerned, there may be some truth to that statement. I certainly do not presume to speak for my generation. And I do not want to give the impression that I am organizing rallies and burning flags. I just mean that I won't be draping an American flag over a cross in my lawn, or decorating my car with God Bless America stickers while I blast Lee Greenwood for all to hear. This is not arbitrary rebellion or a misdirected discontent that really should be aimed at my parents. This skepticism towards American ideals, this hesitancy to pledge my allegiance to a nation, comes from serious deliberation about the responsibility of a follower of Christ living in the most powerful nation in the world. Swearing allegiance to anything other than the Kingdom of God—the Kingdom that Jesus announced and initiated—is problematic to say the least. I believe that the Kingdom of God is radically different than the Roman Empire, which the early Christians struggled against, as well as the American empire, which contemporary Christians seem to embrace.

Currently, and there are more I am sure, I see two points of tension between an allegiance to both the American way and the way of Jesus. For one, America’s glorified corporatism and its disproportionate gain in wealth is radically different from the early church’s concern for distributive justice and Jesus’ warnings about wealth. As with all earthly kingdoms, nations, or empires, some people must be oppressed and exploited in order to retain the wealth of others. The Kingdom of God does not work in this way. Jesus initiated the Kingdom with a counter-cultural community that was modeled after the Jewish family. This community called each other brothers and sisters, they shared everything they had and took care of the poor. They were committed to distributive justice... they sold their possessions, did not consider anything their own, and held everything in common. To the pious Romans this was absurd and blasphemous; to Americans this undermines the holy institution of capitalism and reeks of sinister, godless socialism. Either way, both empires reject this way of life.

Secondly, America’s devastating militarism, held in contrast to Jesus’ initiation of a nonviolent Kingdom, creates serious dissonance. Jesus' peaceful death on the cross, the Empire's tool for executing revolutionaries, is a symbol which all the martyrs looked to as a model for nonviolent resistance to injustice… a way to have victory over evil. Jesus initiated a nonviolent revolution that is built on martyrs—men, women, and children who loved their enemies so much that they never lifted a weapon. They refused to participate in the Roman military, and they refused to participate in the violent Jewish revolutions. From the perspectives of the Romans and the revolutionary Jews, both militaristic efforts were ways to secure peace, freedom and justice. America also insists that these things must be secured through violent means. Many Christians today, at least in America, set their hands on their hearts and pledge their allegiance to a kind of freedom and justice that is obtained through weapons and war. God's liberation, as revealed in Jesus, is not anything like the liberation of militant Judaism, Rome, or America. It is the way of the cross... the way that the martyrs understood but many Americans are far from.

I explained to this pastor, the one that I respect, that while there are many things to be thankful for in the nation in which I live, it simply is not enough for me to pledge my allegiance to an earthly kingdom that is not wholly committed to the way of Jesus. Frankly, the American way, so far as it resists evil with bombs and rifles, and gains wealth to store up in banks, all at the expense of others around the world... is not Christian. And it never will be.

I was reading about the history of the Pledge of Allegiance and discovered that there were many tweaks throughout the years. The stiff-armed salute was once the standard posture, but was changed to the more compassionate posture of placing one's hand over their heart because the rigid gesture looked too much like Nazi Germany. Later, the phrase about God was included so that America could be distinct from the godless communists in Russia. These minor adjustments have made people feel better about swearing their allegiance to a nation. But does changing the posture through which one pledges their life to a nation really make a military less destructive? Does including the name of an ambiguous god make an economy more just? Or do these little tweaks blind us to the continuation of a deeper problem? Aren't we still pledging allegiance, with our hands over our hearts, to an entity that has expanding borders, human enemies, monstrous weapons, selfish economic interests, and power-corrupted leaders?

Nationalism has been a force that has set itself against the purposes of God throughout the scriptures, throughout history. Nations, and the forces behind them, are the antagonist. There has never been a kingdom, nation, or empire on earth that has been just or worthy of humanity's allegiance. America is not an exception. So why do those who belong to God's Kingdom pledge their allegiance to anything other than God's Kingdom?

love, hope, and rock n' roll.

2008-07-10T14:17:00.005-05:00

I'm water, you're the dry wood
equal parts misguided and misunderstood
but all the neighborhood
watched a fire burn from where they stood
as the smoke said
'we're not half as bad as G-d is good'
still there's a whisper in my ear,
the voice of loneliness and fear, so I say:
'devil, disappear!
I'm still (ehh...technically...) a virgin
after 27 years -
which never bothered me before,
what's maybe 50 more?'

open wide my door, my Lord, my Lord
open wide my door, to whatever makes me love You more

--mewithoutYou

MewithoutYou played at the Bottleneck last Tuesday night. At one point in the show, the lead singer asked for forgiveness for his harsh words towards the church in the last years. He apologized for strongly insisting that the church was hypocritical, for lashing out at the flaws he saw, for joining in the chorus of negativity. He told the humbled crowd of cynics that he has begun to see his own hypocrisy, that the change really needed to be within him, with his eyes--the problem was that he could not see God's goodness all around him.

When we take in the long history of the church, its many ups and downs, its failure to represent Christ in the world as well as the powerful times when the body of believers were the very hands and feet of Jesus. When we look hard at each passing generation of both optimists and pessimists, of preachers and prophets, of martyrs and heretics, one thing is evident: God's Kingdom will advance... it is already among us... and it will finally come in its fullness. We can either be faithful to this coming Kingdom, always looking for the signs of our coming Savior with the hope of a resurrection and a new creation, or we can keep our eyes on the enemy, looking for all his temporary triumphs, his last desperate attacks upon the already victorious Kingdom of God.

Do not misunderstand me. We must know who our enemy is, we must beware of the prowling lion seeking to devour. We must not drop our guard... we should not mistake our confidence in victory as an excuse for passivity. Every generation needs its prophets, those who speak on God's behalf to stir up hope for the oppressed while demanding justice and truth from the oppressors. Prophets are the mouthpieces for God's will on earth as it is in heaven. But Christ, the cross, and the hope of resurrection, should be our song, our strength, our joy.

The defeatism that has been popularized... the weak, devastating eschatology that claims we must abandon ship and let the world sink into a lake of fire... the chorus of cynicism that deconstructs every attempt to manifest the good news... will only steal us away from what God is already doing.

The hungry world, the wealthy church, the man-made institutions, the republicans vs. democrats, the capitalist greed, the divisive denominations, the brain-washing sitcoms, the sex, the violence, the lies... we're not half as bad as God is good.

May God give us the eyes to see, the ears to hear, what is already at hand.

a meditation on the changing world.

2008-06-29T09:57:00.010-05:00

Truth without love is irrelevant...

Love without truth is insincere...

The gospel is not just a proposition, nor is it mere optimism...

The Kingdom is the perfect synthesis, not balance, of truth and love.

Repentance is a radical rethinking...

Baptism is a deep cleansing...

Resurrection is the hope in a martyr's singing...

Jubilee is a trumpet blasting news of our sabbath everlasting.

Shalom.

the early christians.

2008-06-10T13:31:00.008-05:00

Shane Claiborne's bibliography is perhaps the most exciting portion of his new book, Jesus for President. Though, I must say, the whole thing is pretty awesome. He quotes the book, The Early Christians in Their Own Words, several times and everytime I was blown away. So I went and found it at the library. Even though I have not finished it...I have a collection of my favorite quotes.

It is interesting, and difficult, as American citizens, to think about these words spoken by the Early Christians:

“...We ourselves were well conversant with war, murder, and everything evil, but all of us throughout the whole wide earth have traded in our weapons of war. We have exchanged our swords for plowshares, our spears for farm tools....” Justin Martyr, born c. A.D. 100 - died c. A.D. 165.

“We must then offer no resistance. He never wanted us to imitate the wicked. Rather, he challenged us to lead everyone away from shamefulness and pleasure in evil by patience and kindness. We can in fact show that many who were once among you have been transformed in this way. They gave up their violent and domineering ways. Either they were conquered by the sight of their neighbors' patient life, or they were convinced by noticing the extraordinary kindness and patience of some defrauded traveling companions, or they were overcome by encountering and testing this attitude in people with whom they had business dealings. Anyone who is not found living in accordance with his teachings should not be regarded as a Christian even if he confesses to Christ's teaching with his lips. For he said that only those shall be saved who do not just talk, but who also do the corresponding deeds.” Justin Martyr, born c. A.D. 100 - died c. A.D. 165.

“I do not wish to be a ruler. I do not strive for wealth. I refuse offices connected with military command. Fornication I detest. No insatiable hunger for gold drives me to the sea. I do not fight for a victor's laurels. I am free from the mad thirst for fame. I despise death. I stand above illness. No grief consumes my soul.” Tatian, c. A.D. 150.

"'If everyone were to act as you [Christians], the national government would soon be left utterly deserted and without any help, and affairs on earth would soon pass into the hands of the most savage and wretched barbarians....' Celsus next exhorts us to help the Emperor and be his fellow soldiers. To this we reply, "You cannot demand military service of Christians any more than you can of priests." We do not go forth as soldiers with the Emperor even if he demands this, but we do fight for him by forming our own army, an army of faith through our prayers to God." Origen, Against Celsus, born A.D. 185 - died A.D. 232.

The portraits and self-portrayals of the Early Christians show us that a major priority of the Church was taking care of those in need:

“...Even though we have a kind of cash box, the money does not come from admission fees, as when one buys membership or position in a society. That would be like 'buying religion.' Rather, every man contributes something once a month, or whenever he wishes to, and only if he wishes to, and if he can; for no one is forced, but everyone gives his share freewillingly. These contributions might be called the deposit funds of fellowship with God as they are not spent on banquets or drinking parties or on gluttony. Rather they are used to feed and to bury the poor; for boys and girls without means and without parents to help them...for shipwrecked sailors; and for those doing forced labor in the mines, or banished on islands, or in prison, provided they suffer for the sake of God's fellowship...." Tertullian, A.D. 198.

“...They live in the awareness of their smallness. Kindliness is their nature...They love one another. They do not neglect widows. Orphans they rescue from those who are cruel to them. Every one of them who has anything gives ungrudgingly to the one who has nothing. If they see a traveling stranger they bring him under their roof. They rejoice over him as a real brother, for they do not call one another brothers after the flesh, but they know they are brothers in the Spirit and in God...If anyone among them is poor or comes into want while they themselves have nothing to spare, they fast two or three days for him. In this way they can supply any poor man with the food he needs." Aristides, c. A.D. 137.

"...Furthermore, they get excited because we [Christians] are called by the name of 'brothers.'...How much more does it express the truth to call and look upon those as brothers who have recognized their one father, God, and who have come, startled and amazed, from the womb of ignorance to the one light of truth. But maybe we are not considered quite legitimate because our brotherliness is not loudly declaimed in a tragedy, or because we are brothers with regard to our family possessions too, at which point [their] brotherliness ceases to exist as a rule. We who are inwardly bound together in spirit and in soul can have no hesitation in surrendering our property. We hold everything in common except our wives. At this point we dissolve our community, and this is precisely the one point in which the rest of humanity practices community...." Tertullian, A.D. 198.

"Among us you can find uneducated people, artisans, and dear old mothers who would not be able to put into words the usefulness of their teaching, but by their deeds they demonstrate the usefulness of their principles. They do not repeat words learned by heart, but they show good deeds: when hit they do not hit back, when robbed they do not go to court, they give to those who ask, and they love their fellowmen as themselves." Athenagoras, c. A.D. 175.

The gathering of the Early Christians stands in stark contrast to the big, production-style, Sunday worship we experience today:

"The nature of our meal and its purpose are explained by its very name. It is called Agape, as the Greeks call love in its purest sense. However much it may cost, it is always a gain to be extravagant in the name of fellowship with what is God's, since the food brought is used for the benefit of all who are in need. To respect the lowly is all-important with God...The participants do not go to the table until they have first tasted of prayer to God. As much is eaten as is necessary to satisfy the hungry; as much is drunk as is good for those who live a disciplined life. When satisfying themselves they are aware that even during the night they should worship God. They converse as those who are aware that God is listening. After the hands are washed and the lights are lit, all are asked to stand forth and to praise God as well as each is able, be it from the Holy Scriptures or from his own heart. From this it will be recognized "how he drank." In like manner the Meal is closed with a prayer. After this we part from one another, not to gang together to brawl or to roam about in bands, or to go in secret byways of licentiousness, but always pursuing the same self-control and purity as befits those who have taken in a truth rather than a meal. This is the way Christians meet." Tertullian, A.D. 198.

a virtuous child, a human being.

2008-05-31T13:53:00.018-05:00

Not too long ago I heard a story about a small child, a neon pink '57 Chevy, and a sand pile that, though simple and common-place, struck me as full of insight. Before I share the story, though, I must give this disproportionate preface. I sometimes cannot help myself... If I ever attempted to write a book, I surely would not make it past the preface.

The Disproportionate Preface...

While I do believe children can, and often do, display the raw depravity of humanity, I also believe there are moments when their newness in this world allows them to give us a beautiful glimpse of real innocence--authentic, pre-fall, garden purity. Thus, because I wish to recognize the innate goodness in mankind as placed there by the source of all good things, I do not share this story to the merit of the child, but rather as evidence of the possible virtue in all human beings as designed by the Creator.

By virtue I mean the quality of a person that reflects the purpose for which they were created; for example, the greatest virtue of a knife is its sharpness, or the greatest virtue of bacon is its incomparable tastiness. (Crispiness is virtuous only in the case that it contributes to the overall tastiness of the bacon. Healthiness, however, is not a virtue at all, but often a vice, as in the case of turkey bacon--the tastiness is diminished for the sake of something bacon was never meant to do...make humans healthy.)

Jonathan Edwards summed up the virtue of man as "the love of all being," meaning that men and women were created to love, and thus, we are living as we were created to live when we direct our love at our self-being, at all other human-beings, and at the perfect Being in which all other beings were modeled after, the triune God (where animals, plants, and the created natural world fit in this scheme, I am not sure, but I think good stewardship, built on a foundation of our love for God and man, seems to be the most reasonable). Humans are at their highest potential when they love God, people, and their self--it turns out that Jesus and Paul agree with Edwards on this...or...I suppose it is the other way around.

I think that it is obvious that every human being naturally directs love at something--they cannot help it, it is what they were created to do. Louie Giglio explains this in terms of worship--we were created to worship and thus we all worship something. Bob Dylan puts in more concrete terms: "Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord, but you're gonna have to serve somebody." But I think "love" is a more precise way of getting at the virtue of mankind.

Some may direct their love at a narrower scope of being, like only towards friends and family--but Jesus says that this is not enough. Some may be romantics, directing all of their love at a single being, letting this one being eclipse all other being. Some may not direct their love at a being at all, but instead at ideas or material things like a nation, money, power, success, carnal pleasure, or even love itself. But the virtue of man, with his predisposition to love, is to love being--God, people, and self. This love is not contingent on whether those beings have lovable qualities such as money in their pocket, good skin, or a friendly disposition, but rather the love is based solely on the fact that they are a being. It seems tough, but it is what we were created to do, it is our virtue.

The Story...

Benjamin, not even in kindergarten yet, was playing with his neon pink '57 Chevy in a sand pile that sat between his home and the home beside him where Christopher lived. Christopher was his very best friend in the whole world because he lived next door. They shared an interest in cars, particularly the kind that rolled smoothly and had exciting colors on them. Christopher liked most of the cars that Benjamin played with and often stored them in his own toy-box--for safe keeping.

Christopher had joined Benjamin in the sand pile after his mother finished scolding him for storing the remainder of his pudding snack in the seemingly bottomless crack between the couch cushions. Christopher was grumpy, and after only a few minutes in the sand pile, the tiny little rocks had worked themselves into several uncomfortable locations. Without any warning, Christopher filled his right hand with sand and launched it at Benjamin who had just looked up from burying his '57 Chevy, wanting to include his friend in the exciting possibilities of the sand pile.

The discomfort Christopher had been suffering was now shared by Benjamin, though the severity of this discomfort was not equal. Benjamin could no longer open his eyes, but instead could only release large amounts of tears. Panic filled Benjamin's bones and he instinctively stood to find refuge in his mother. He made his way towards the house screaming but did not have to travel far before his mother scooped him up.

She took him to the bathroom sink where she rinsed his eyes. She tenderly, but resolutely, asked her distressed son what happened. Benjamin explained between his sobs that Christopher had thrown sand and it landed in his eyeballs. The mother, tired of losing all the toys she bought to Christopher's ever-expanding toy-box, had very little patience with Benjamin's so-called best friend. She suggested to Benjamin that he seek justice, that he go back outside and throw sand in Christopher's eyes.

Benjamin, still blurry-eyed, looked at his mother's stern face and replied, "But... that would hurt his eyeballs. Christopher is my friend." The mother, suddenly unable to control her facial expression, filled her hand with cool water and continued to rinse her son's eyes as she deliberately stored these words, this moment, in the part of her brain that would not quickly forget.

thomas merton on nonviolence.

2008-05-26T17:12:00.003-05:00

...Peace demands greater heroism than war. It demands greater fidelity to the truth and a much more perfect purity of conscience. The Christian fight for peace is not to be confused with defeatism...

...The Christian is and must be by his very adoption as a son of God, in Christ, a peacemaker. He is bound to imitate the Savior who, instead of defending Himself with twelve legions of angels, allowed Himself to be nailed to the cross and died praying for his executioners...

...The Christian is one whose life sprung from a particular spiritual seed: the blood of the martyrs who, without offering forcible resistance, laid down their lives rather than submit to the unjust laws that demanded an official religious cult of the emperor as God...

...Christian nonviolence is not built on a presupposed division, but on the unity of man. It is not out for the conversion of the wicked to the ideas of the good, but for the healing and reconciliation of man with himself, man the person and man the human family...

...If it does happen to be impossible for some of us to love our enemies, there must be a reason for it. The reason is that we love money and possessions more than we love our fellow man, and so when he seems to threaten our material interests, we are compelled to hate him...

...The human race today is like an alcoholic who knows that drink will destroy him and yet always has "good reasons" why he must continue drinking. Such is man in his fatal addiction to war. He is not really capable of seeing a constructive alternative to war...

church and capitalism.

2008-05-13T17:36:00.022-05:00

Man continually standing in need of the assistance of others, must fall upon some means to procure their help. This he does not merely by coaxing and courting; he does not expect it unless he can turn it to your advantage or make it appear to be so. Mere love is not sufficient for it, till he applies in some way to your self-love. A bargain does this in the easiest manner. When you apply to a brewer or butcher for beer or for beef, you do not explain to him how much you stand in need of these, but how much it would be to his interest to allow you to have them for a certain price. You do not address his humanity, but his selflove….

-Words from the champion of Capitalism, Adam Smith, in Lectures on Jurisprudence, 1896.

Capitalism turns us inward, telling us to focus on our self-interest. It teaches us to relate to one another at the most instinctual level--how can you serve my interests. And this is perhaps the best argument for capitalism: it claims to generate a common good by utilizing the natural desire in all men for self-preservation. On these terms, capitalism appears to be the most reasonable, most practical of all economic relations. But we know from experience that this is not the case. Where does self-preservation stop and gluttony begin? What divides the instincts of survival from the vices of greed and pride? These boundaries are so broken in our society that the common good is lost in the ever widening gap between the rich and the poor. Yet, I do not wish to criticize capitalism as a national economic system (at least, not within the scope of this post), but instead, the relation it has to the church in the United States and the influence it has had upon it.

Capitalism, as part of the American milieu--as part of the freedom-crazed atmosphere in which we breathe--has stuck to the church like the thick smell of smoke upon soft clothing. This synthesis of church and capitalism has created an odd creature, marked by consumerism, a devastating competitive spirit, and radical individualism slyly masked as freedom. This is all demonstrated in what we have come to call the business-model church, a frame of mind and practice that is so prevalent in the churches across the United States that is nearly impossible for many to think outside of this box. We have all seen it: the prefabricated sanctuaries and the neutralized liturgy, ensuring the consistency and comfort of a Starbucks. Anything radical or challenging that might disturb the coziness of sub-urban bliss is over-taken by VBS campaigns and social outings. Even as you enter this holy super-market, you are greeted with long welcome-stations covered in glossy brochures, all advertising what the church has to offer in order to best serve your interests. All of this is to entice individuals to "join" the church (ultimately resulting in your "buy-in", that is, your energy and especially your money). The whole Sunday morning experience is an advertisement screaming out for your "investment": If you come to our church we will provide you with the loudest worship team in town; the most colorful children's program you can find; the cleanest conscience your tithing can buy. The result is a congregation made up of critical and demanding consumers, constantly threatening to take their business elsewhere if things get too sloppy, too edgy, too difficult to maintain their luke-warm lives. Isn't it Paul who said that, in Christ, there is free-market?

The Scottish philosopher, Adam Smith--possibly the most important proponent of capitalism--says that man cannot be motivated by a love for his fellow men, but only by his inclination to serve his own self-interest. So the church, under the spell of capitalism, does not appeal to our ability and calling to serve and love one another, but to our self-love. The average American does not go to church where they have the greatest opportunity to serve (i.e. the churches in neighborhoods that have the greatest need of their resources), but rather chooses the church that best reflects their interests. Bishop Zac said that this condition is a product of capitalistic consumerism, and it creates an individualistic church that, rather than forming a solid wall, becomes a useless pile of bricks. People choose the church that can serve as an extension of their self, making Americans even more narcissistic and self-seeking instead of what they are called to be by Jesus: "Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." This is a part of the good news that the business-model church will continually undermine. Its adoption of a capitalistic autonomy encourages us to seek ourselves in order to find life. Jesus preached about the kind of freedom that is found in losing yourself in the service of the Kingdom. It is in becoming like Christ--it is in serving others in need--that we break the enslaving, unquenchable devotion to our self-interest and find the profound freedom of the gospel. Thus, the best argument for capitalism--that it makes use of our self-centered nature--is the very thing that sets it in opposition to the work of the Kingdom of God and the gospel Jesus demonstrated. For the Kingdom seeks to eliminate this human inclination of self-seeking and to make us servants to all, dying to self daily.

The church has become a competitive contradiction. While businesses that operate in the capitalistic climate can say politely (but nevertheless misleadingly and problematically), "Don't take it personally, it's only business," the Church must always claim to act on a personal, human level. But the American Church, the body of Christ, models itself after this inhuman entity--this impersonal, cut-throat machine that sees "success" in terms of numbers, charts, projections, and quotas. The programs on the glossy brochures are not only to entice individuals, but to compete with the alternatives for the allegiance of these individuals. After all, in a business-model church, more people, no matter where they come from, means more income, more tithing, more stuff; it ensures better programs to better compete in this dog-eat-dog world of... well... loving Jesus and loving people. And here lies the contradiction. The more churches set themselves up with marketing schemes and flashy logos, the more they pit themselves against one another. Christ said that they will know us (the church) by the way we love one another... this is not possible in the competitive business mentality. That is why Jesus' model for church was a family, not a corporation: "Then [Jesus] looked at those seated in a circle around him and said, 'Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does God's will is my brother and sister and mother. '" This is why the early church continually referred to each other as brother and sister, to the point of criticism from outsiders; critics would say with disgust, "They indiscriminately refer to anyone among them as brother and sister." A church that sees growth as a bigger building with a bigger budget because it has a bigger congregation, will never be free to live as a family. A church cannot not claim growth because it draws in people with its competitive programs and attractive pastors with competitive salaries. Perhaps the first step towards growth should be to finally see the church as Jesus did--as a family made up of all those who do the will of God. This one change would grow our church to millions, with a congregation that wraps around the globe.

As for the validity of capitalism as an economic system, I will hold my tongue; but, as a paradigm from which the church addresses society--as a mode of evangelism, discipleship, and restoration--I must speak loudly in opposition. This path will only continue to devastate the already dying church in the West--it will continue to undermine the love, freedom, and community found in the gospel and it will continue to mock the life and teachings of Jesus.

on the excrement of a noble creature.

2008-05-10T12:26:00.013-05:00

In my last year of high school I was certain I would become a pastor. I had decided to attend Manhattan Christian College, study Pastoral Ministry, and learn to preach like Tony Evans (a popular African-American pastor who had some sweet southern soul). My pastor at that time had some words of wisdom for me before I went off to college. "Adam," he said, "if you want to be the pastor of a church, this is what you need to do..." and he looked at me straight in the face and said, "...study business."

Horse shit.

epistemology.

2008-05-05T18:01:00.015-05:00

The Greeks learned in order to comprehend. The Hebrews learned in order to revere. The modern man learns in order to use...Knowledge means success. We do not know any more how to justify any value except in terms of expediency...

We teach our children how to measure, how to weigh. We fail to teach them how to revere, how to see wonder and awe. The sense of the sublime, the sign of the inward greatness of the human soul and something which is potentially given to all men, is now a rare gift...

Awe enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine, to sense in small things the beginning of significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and the simple; to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal.
~Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel

This is a tough place to live. There may be no lack of physical resources here, but there is a gaping hole in one of the fundamental necessities of being human. America seems to have lost sight of what it is that truly has value. But not only that—this is only a symptom of a larger problem. We do not know how to go about finding value; we are not even sure such a pursuit could ever take us anywhere. It is the underlying naturalistic philosophy that has depleted our resources for accurately and confidently judging what can be considered valuable. Indeed, on some level, every American has been influenced to think that in order to hold any beliefs about what has worth in their life they must also hold some empirical justification. This assumption about empirical justification has caused us to rely on defining the value of life in purely utilitarian terms. That is, we have come to view a truly good life as one that consists of mostly pleasure and as little pain as possible.

Not too long ago I took part in a discussion about euthanasia. In this discussion I quickly realized that it was nearly unanimous among the participants that a life was no longer worth living if there was no more pleasure, or at least very little pleasure to be experienced. At first glance, this seems like it makes sense; our Western upbringing confirms this view and we are inclined to agree. But can we really accept that the only thing that should compel us to live our lives is the pleasure we experience; should we really buy into this shallow and consumer-friendly philosophy? Perhaps. But I believe that this yeilds an incomplete explanation of the human experience. I am not ready to ignore the wisdom of so many humans in history that have found a higher purpose for life. I am not ready to abandon the eternal because it does not fit into naturalism's tiny box. Rabbi Heschel was so kind to remind us that we should break free from this philosophical restraint—this false foundation that suppresses the awe we ought to have for the world outside us and the spirit within us. If we are to have any success in giving a more complete assessment, we must move beyond the demand for empirical justification and onto the human—even divine—affirmations of what makes life worth living. What are these affirmations? They need not seem so strange to us.

Consider the grand view of the Pacific Northwest that floods your senses as you sit, perched in the rocky heights of the mountains. Consider that feeling; how you shrink into the landscape; how the thin air and big sky makes you suddenly aware of your breathing and sends a jolt of adrenaline through the body. Now you consciously take in the oxygen, all the while made to feel small, short-breathed and short-lived. In comparison to the enormous and enduring Mount Hood you are only a fraction. Here, on this mountain, you begin to make sense of sunsets and the eyes with which you see them; in these kinds of moments—when you know you have a heart and lungs because you feel them working for your existence—you begin to wrestle with the reasons for even getting down off this mountain.

Think of the conclusions you make during the late-night episodes of Seinfeld with your girlfriend; when you happen to look over as she sits on the sofa beside you, her eyes fastened to the screen; you look as the television casts a flickering blue hue over the whole room and the sight of her dimly lit face sends a mysterious warmth into your gut. She laughs at the loopy comedy and leans into your chest—her sweet scented conditioner makes your lips smile but your head swim. You begin to question: Is it worth it—becoming so attached to this person, this temporal thing that must eventually whither away? Must this dread of pain be a part of a life well-lived? Could I live without her? But could I really be a family man? Her gentle hand, as it reaches and embraces yours, brings you back to the blue-washed room of sitcoms and simple answers; your conclusion becomes so clear and you softly tell her you love her.

Finally, think of the compelling rhetoric of the black day when you bury your loved one. When the repetitious offering of empty condolences turns your face to the clouds; you search for some higher sympathy in the silent sky. You are embittered by the betrayal; life leads you on to believe in love only to lose it and here you are, left as the laughing-stock. Like Mike Corleone, when betrayed by his brother, you wrap your hands around God’s skull, his hair between your fingers, and you force his forehead to your lips for the kiss. "You broke my heart" are the only words you find when looking into the eyes of God. You leave the funeral and find yourself in the stiff and now lonely bed, finally tucked away in the house that has lost its home. You lie there with grinding teeth, daring God to prove his mercy. But somewhere, in the course of the night or in the course of life, you begin to understand hope. You understand because you have seen despair, and through it, you have seen the face of God.

You see, at some point, our symbol for wisdom has been altered; we have exchanged the gray crown worn by our elders for the white lab coat worn by vibrant scholars. The aged and tattered are marginalized while the heathy and inexperienced are exalted. This shift is a sign. Truth has been entrusted to the weak, wobbly legs of science.

Can these human experiences justify our judgments about the value of life, love, and the eternal? Or should we forfeit them to a philosophy that defines them as mere physiological fuzzies?

prayer.

2007-03-16T00:05:00.002-05:00

Father,

Look at me, please. Tell me what you see.

Let Your words define me, giving me a name that you may claim me.

Look at me, please. Let me sense Your seeing gaze.

Let me feel the love that turns Your face.

May I see your eyes glaze, filling with grace, as my self-hatred withers and fades.

Look at me, please. Oh Love, look on me, that I may learn to love us, these beings you created from dust.

you can't live without them.

2006-04-28T10:56:00.006-05:00

Clichés are interesting things: you can't have your cake and eat it too; hindsight is twenty-twenty; the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. These are all phrases that at one time were profound; I guess when they were first uttered. But then, probably because of the novelty of the new phrase, they were endlessly repeated until people forgot that they were profound at all. They are statements that were once spoken with passion because they described the world as it was experienced. Then, with the excitement that usually follows true articulations of the world, they were eagerly spoken again and again and again. But, somehow, with each time the statement was conjured, it lost a little of its power, its novelty, its profundity. Perhaps this happened because truth just grows dull in reptition, but more likely it is because people began to speak the words insincerely and without any reverence for its truth. Thus, for some, it became a default expression for the given situation and the authentic passion that should accompany these accurate articulations was diminished. The words are now spoken with a sense of sarcasm and the world laughs at them as though they are out-grown. But it is my submission that it is the cliché phrases that often have to be grown into. Let me give you an example:

It was a typical late-night discussion with one of my roommates in The Blue House. We talked about our usual stuff: politics, theology, and especially women. It was about the time in the conversation that we would get up from our worn-out bachelor-pad sofas and go to Dara’s for slushies and Laffy Taffy when a particular cliché ran through my head: "Women. You can’t live with them, and you can’t live without them." This particular package of words had been heard plenty of times prior to this evening, yet this time it was different. I felt the pull between the sheer pain of maintaining a relationship and the aching hole left in a life lived alone. The words had finally taken root in their original context and they hit my chest as if I had just discovered the New World. I turned to my friend and looked at him with squinted eyes, letting him know I had something profound to say. I tried to let him in on this new discovery. "Dude!" I half yelled, half whispered, "Women, you know? It's like you can't live with them, but you can't live without them." The words fell on him as they had me so often in the past. He was uninterested in the cliché—the washed out expression that time and repetition had belittled. I do not blame my friend, for as I said, these clichés must be grown into. They must find their context in our experience before they can ever speak to us. I say this because I want to restore a respect for these clichés whose meanings have been lost in the years of repetition. They should be viewed as words that have endured the test of time; they have proved themselves as important pieces of our language and essential articulations of our shared experience as humans. In short, their over-exposure should not negate their profundity, it should attest to it.

In this way, I think clichés are a lot like Christianity in America. You see, people feel the same way about Christianity as they do about these clichés, and for good reason. It is played-out, unoriginal, and often lacking in depth. They have heard it before, in fact, they have heard it too many times. And even though its history of martyrdom shows that it was a powerful articulation of the way things are, the dispassionate repetition of it today makes it seem empty, shrill, and grating on the ears. In America, it is not the religion that people sing about as they are being burned alive; instead, it is the religion that is on bumper stickers, t-shirts, and Wal-Mart check-out lines. Christianity in America has become the most obnoxious cliché. But it is here that I want to remind you that the over-exposure does not negate its profundity. Christianity continues to endure simply because there are people who one day just get it. The washed-out phrases like, “Jesus loves me,” all of a sudden take root in the human experience and they smack the chest with the weight of their significance. Christianity continues because people who had been searching for the right words all their life one day find that it is the obnoxious cliché that says it best.

home: finding the one to spend your life with.

2005-09-09T00:25:00.001-05:00

She is sitting in the passenger seat, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, pulling them close to her chest. Her eyes are set on the peaceful afternoon outside but her mind is storming with the events that led to this moment. Little has been said since she and her husband entered the vehicle and drove away, leaving behind the red-brick realtor’s office. The couple had spent months pursuing a house that had seemed to be the one. There had been many arguments between the two of them. But now, neither cared to figure out who had been right or wrong, for they had both hoped for, and lost, the same thing--a home. They had argued more recently than ever before, and this unified search for the same end had only brought out the drastic differences between them. It is as though passion and reason themselves had been wed and sought to become one.

No, nothing has been said since they drove away from the red-brick building, but nothing needs to be said; the thoughts and emotions are simply shared by the mutual silence, and to speak the feelings would be too difficult. Instead, the husband takes a detour from the reality that waits at their destination, and draws out the ride with the long way home. Together they reflect, in their silent conversation, on the disappointment of not getting the house they counted on; together they feel the dread and anxiety of starting over after months were lost in this rejection. They watch through the car windows all the passing houses and cars and kids in the yard; all the little kids playing with their toys. Her eyes begin to well up and blur as they catch the mail boxes streaming by: a red barn with white trim; a rainbow trout with a movable fin that tells the mailman that there is mail inside; a simple black cylinder mailbox with white flowers and, “The Denham Home,” painted on the side . . . home. Finally, the tears start to roll down her cheek. The husband, hearing her cry, places his hand on her shoulder, seeking to relieve whatever pain he can. He calmly says, "It will all work out. As they say, there are plenty of fish in the sea." He tries to grin at the use of the cliché but it only makes her whimpers worse; his words were like cold hands reaching out to a warm heart.

“Stop the car!” She quickly twists her body to look at the sign they just passed, “Honey, turn around…go back.”

After parking the car, they get out and meet at the end of the sidewalk, instinctively clasping hands. Their eyes move from the “For Sale” sign to each other and smile as their eyes meet. This house is a familiar one; five years ago, when they were only dating, they had spent a few weekends caring for an old woman that lived here. She had recently lost her husband and mostly just needed company. She died only a couple months after her husband.

They reach the door and ring the bell. No answer. The husband looks through the window. “The house is empty,” he says and begins to turn, as if to go back to the car. The wife, filled with some impassioned call to action, grabs the door knob and turns it. The door swings open and they both stare at each other with startled grins. She steps across the threshold, carefully watching her husband’s face; his grin fades as he realizes the inevitable. She grabs his hand and pulls him from his planted stance. Suddenly, as if logic and consequence no longer exist, they both enter the house.

They are standing in the entry, facing a large open staircase, framed with a dark mahogany banister and covered with a plush white carpet. Their eyes follow the steps to the upstairs balcony; the beauty and overwhelming size of the home forces their eyes to open wider. At first she pauses, taking in the smell, her eyes steadily browsing the vacant house. But there is little time before she is running her fingers through the dust on the oak mantle in the living room and skimming the titles of the old ragged books left on the shelves in the den. Her pace quickens as she wanders through the large, elegant white kitchen, illuminated by the afternoon light coming from the window above the sink. By the time she returns to her husband at the foot of the stairs, she is nearly running. He watches her dash up the stairs with childish excitement. As a sort of response to her irrational display, he calmly follows behind and yet forced to smile at his wife's elation. Reaching the top of the stairs, he looks down the second-story hallway and sees his wife darting from room to room and calling out various ideas she has about where her parents could stay when they visit for the holidays, and how, when they have children, the kids can share their own bathroom. Thoughts of infants and in-laws swirl in his mind as he desperately tries to keep up. Abruptly, the spinning madness comes to a still calm, and his once frantic wife stands before him with a tranquil gaze. She gently takes his hands in hers and smiles. She leans in very close, so that her breath touches his ear as she whispers. "Honey," she says, "I want this to be our home."

With a sobering, matter-of-fact tone, he replies, "This would make a beautiful home. I will call the realtor tomorrow and see if we can afford it."

They both returned to the vehicle straight-faced and fully exhausted. The day had finally drained them of everything. In the car there was silence again but not of the same sort. Their eyes were glazed and gave the appearance of deep thought. But the blank stare into the distance did not focus on anything, for the effort to see what lies ahead required energy they did not have. Instead, they rested in resolute surrender and there was peace in their sleep that night.

Irony.

2005-08-27T12:07:00.000-05:00

The followers of the Way are taken advantage of, persecuted and mocked--all kinds of evil spoken against them. Yet, these faithful ones earnestly love through their suffering and they tenderly show mercy to the merciless. They are crucified and humbly cry out, "Father forgive them!" The Christ-Followers, carriers of the cross, find true love by loving those who hate them, they receive their blessing in the cursing. You see, this is the beautiful irony that God has written into the lives of the Faithful: that in the end, only these beaten and broken ones bear a smile.

Haiku.

2005-08-01T16:05:00.000-05:00

THE NATIONAL RELIGION
Christians and cliches,
Manifested much the same,
True and yet unknown.

Sky.

2005-07-21T00:35:00.000-05:00

It is nothing short of ironic that to clearly and accurately see the world around me I must thrust my head into the clouds. For it seems that when I forget to notice the sky I lose perspective on this life below; it is precisely because my eyes are stayed on the path that I cannot continue the course. You see, there is something about the contrast of blue and white that sucks the air out of me and forces the effortless breaths of habit to turn to intentional struggles for life. Again, there is something about the still, suspended clouds across the unbound blue that makes my mind rapidly zoom out like the lens of a camera. I quickly gain perspective and know that I am small yet significant. When I notice the sky, I know that I am alive in this frail and fleeting present.