Thoughts and Ruminations

It’s the death of my overly idealistic world…a violent one, I might add.

At some point, if one desires to make a difference in this world, one will find that their ideals and the practicality of applying those ideals to reality often makes a sickening crunch and a grisly wreck scene.

This I find daily…will I live in a fantasy world of constant wheels-spinning-ideals and hypocritical action, or will I honestly engage the struggle to make my ideals reality…which includes ditching some ideals as they are exposed in their inadequacy and shallowness?

I feel like a failure today. Things may feel better tomorrow.

In other news, according to Salon.com, you might want to pass on the salmon from Wal-Mart. Because, evidently it seems, you are eating salmon raised in Chile where they “are generally raised in open-net pens…There is a metal cage on the surface, with nets hanging down to a netted bottom…they grow tens of thousands of fish per net, 1 million or 1.5 million per farm. Then they all go poo. There is a huge amount of waste going into the ocean. People say, oh, that’s natural, all fish go poo in the ocean. But not in that kind of concentration. It just smothers the seabed.” One million salmon produce the same sewage…as sixty-five thousand people. The ocean pens suffer from another source of pollution — excess feed. Any food that isn’t consumed settles to the ocean floor, adding to the layer of feces. The waste itself contains residues of antibiotics and other chemicals used to keep the fish healthy during the two years it takes them to grow to harvestable size.” In the words of Jim Carrey in Ace Ventura, “Yummy.”

In more positive news, it seems there are a few diamonds in the rough these days for your kids to look up to in professional sports. I’ve had my issues with blind idolatry of celebrities before, so I’ve tempered my view of them greatly, but Brian Roberts is a solid, blue-collar, tremendous example of a young man. I’m not surprised to find kids with leukemia have changed his life more radically, possibly, that he has theirs. Now, I’m hoping the listing of Brian’s name in Jason Grimsley’s arrest affidavit as a user of HGH/steroids/amphetamines isn’t accurate. Crossing my fingers.

For my money, there’s few persons I know of doing better, more searching thinking on the kingdom of God than Brian McLaren. This video is one example of that, and he isn’t philosophizing about something from far out in left field.

A quote,”A lot of us think that the purpose Jesus came was to try to help us get to heaven after we die. Well, I’d like to raise some serious questions about that, based on the New Testament.”

Just finished Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky a couple hours ago. Whew!

And Wow! Dark, foreboding, intense, plodding yet purposeful, truthful, authentic, filled with stark reason yet surprising in emotion at the end.

Afterwards, I slept for twenty minutes, but my mind didn’t. It stewed and raged with the possibilities and the realities of Dostoevsky’s thought. He writes in 1865, yet world leaders live into the thought of Raskolnikov today; making the world simplistic, cut-and-dried, black-and-white, good-and-evil, drawing those who don’t want to think for themselves onto their coattails, stirring them to passionate action. that. is. sometimes. deadly. and. disgustingly. wrong. And yet they feel no remorse. And do not come to the brilliant realization of Raskolnikov, nor subject themselves to the great virtue of humility; their pride blinds them, destroys them, and shatters the world by extension through them.

We see this, and yet we are too lazy to emerge from the cycle. We claim certain emotions/reason/ethics/actions as “practical” and “necessary,” yet our emotions/reason/ethics/actions only perpetuate the brokenness, only maintain the darkness of a world of “necessity” without considering whether our actions driven by “necessity” are truly necessary at all. They’re often not.

Who will break the cycle? Can we break the cycle? Is God above and beyond Christianity and Judaism and Islam and Buddhism? Is the call of God transcendent? Built into every human being?

Do any systems of thought, any great persons offer a glimpse, a snapshot of the transcendent? And when they do, are we afraid? Are we too prideful to admit their honesty and their truthfulness? Do we indulge our cowardice of the truth while we hold our weapons that give us “comfort” and “safety” yet fill us with suspicion, questioning, and mistrust? Can those weapons both be physical and emotional; things we employ to give us distance from others for the sake of our own selfishness? Can we live free of this suspicion, questioning, and mistrust (short-term questioning that arises aside, can we be free over the long-term?)?

Is there nothing transcendent, with life being but a series of breathings, blinkings, eating, sleeping, copulating, and work under the thumb of a world already set, full of “laws” and “facts” already pre-determined for us by the confident assertions of those who have gone before us, those who have had “greater insight” into the machinations of our universe than us; insights that demand we knuckle under and passively follow?

Is life one damn “ought” after another, reality that which existed before us and will exist afterwards? One in which we do not matter; our lives either having no meaning, or a meaning and an effect that fades 5, 10, 50, 100 years later when our name falls from the lips and thoughts of those who remember us?

Can that suggested transcendence suggested of before enliven our human emotions/reason/ethics/thoughts/actions with something beyond us, something that ripples out into eternity whether we live five minutes or a century? Can our active role in living into that transcendent reality create deeper and more forceful ripples than passively or dispassionately living? Can my ripples( if healing) neutralize the ripples ( if destructive) of others perpetuating the cycle? Somehow provide a glimpse of the transcendent in the midst of reality that is often drudgery and brokenness? Am I capable of the opposite action, the destructive kind, the ripples of fragmentation, enslavement, and mistrust?

What if the transcendent breaks through in a shocking, miraculous, intensely physical way now…not because of my ability or giftedness but because of the transcendent working through my willingness, my fidelity, my passion? Is that what happened with Jesus? Can the transcendent be deeply transcendent, deeply “other,” yet also deeply personal and relational? Can it (or He, or She) seek me, aggressively pursue me, love me in my brokenness? Is it possible?

All these, and more, flash through my head as I must settle down to the drudgery of finishing my semester. I compartmentalize my emotions, my thoughts, and place them in the recesses of my mind for the sake of necessity. They cannot/should not disturb what “needs to be done” right now.

What if I never return to these thoughts? What if I always shove them away, trivialize them for the sake of necessity, of “what needs to be done right now”? Will I have wasted my life, salted away my minutes, my days, and years for the sake of what is “necessary” only to find the “necessary” has enslaved me?

How can I balance what “needs to be done” (the practical) with what “deserves to be thought about,” what compels me to “consider reality beyond the drudgery of daily reality”(the theoretical)? Will that balance ever be perfect? I think not. Will the pursuit of that balance send me careening either into emotionless duty or deeply emotional existential panic? I think so. Is it worth it to spit on the felt need to occupy one extreme or the other and to choose to struggle? To find myself erring on either side? To have friends honest enough to keep me accountable? Friends who will give me room to explore, to doubt, to laugh, to vent, to read, to feel ecstasy, to feel shattered?

All this, and more, rages in my mind right now. I didn’t intend to be melodramatic, and I personally don’t care if I came off that way. This was stream of consciousness; bare, raw feelings that spun off in response to this incredible book. I lay it before the world, because I’m finished hiding, finished knuckling under to what it supposedly necessary…or at least I claim I am. Until, five minutes from now, I return to segmenting sections of my life away from others because I am afraid of what they’ll think or how they’ll react…continuing to leave parts of my life in shadows…crippling myself before others can seek to listen and enter in. My life is mystifying, human existence is mystifying, and because I can sit down and in an hour experience these deep, visceral emotions and thoughts because of words printed on a page, I must consider the possibility of a reality bigger than myself that gave me the complex, creative ability to respond to another’s complex, creative ability…the hungering for life beyond the drudgery of the day-to-day, the struggle of progress, the giving-in and slow attrition of laziness, and the commitment to actions of fragmentation, calling twisted temptations “natural” and choosing to regress.

It is in that regress that the only thing that separates me and Cho-Seung Hui is a difference of degree of evil. I am a walking wounded, and my continuance in such a wounded state without the pursuit of healing wounds others by extension as we rub shoulders and they move on to rub shoulders with others, touched by me in ways they (nor I) understand. I do not have the cold metal of the Walther and the Glock in my hands, dispassionately erasing the lives of others with cold efficiency, but I do have the cold reality of self-centeredness, of cynicism, of all the “oughts” that enslave me; and they do kill (maybe physically someday). But for now they kill insidiously and incrementally, in my cold, suspicious looks, in my desire and commitment for my own way, in my self-righteous exaltation of myself over the “disgusting, inhumane, evil” acts of Cho as if I am not capable of the same, in my laughter at the failures of others, in my hatred of those who hate and/or kill those closest to me without considering that they may hate/kill because those most like me hated/killed first. Do I have the right to hold court over them, then, knowing that even if I do not carry out an evil act with my own two hands, I can be just as complicit when I stand idly by and do nothing while evil is carried out? But I have to do what is “necessary,” don’t I? I have to busy myself with what I “need” to do, love or some other transcendent emotion or action only goes so far before I must put my foot down, must assert my individuality and right to fullness of life over others?

Bleh. I’m done for now. Back to the “necessary.” I’ve already spent too much time in the theoretical, and that is dangerous, both for my academic life and the leaders who depend on my unthinking obedience to their expectations in order to maintain order in society…

As promised, here is the second part of EMU President Loren Swartzendruber’s excellent article. And in case as you read this you’re tempted to click away because Swartzendruber’s context (Mennonites) is different than yours, I think he’s making some serious points about cultural nonconformity for the sake of Christ that can be applied to all Christian traditions. It’s not as if the “historic peace churches” are the only ones given the command to be peacemakers; or Lutherans are the only ones to emphasize justification at God’s initiative, to be seized by faith; or Methodists are the only ones who should pursue sanctification. Denominational distinctives are not meant to be exclusive, and thus Swartzendruber’s words (though spoken within a distinctive context) are deeply prophetic to all Christians. What is our witness in our different cultural realities?

And I’ll put in a pre-emptive p.s. for you here. I’m not Mennonite…I do consider myself deeply influenced by Anabaptism, but I’m not just toeing denominational lines here by quoting Loren. He’s got something to say to all of us. And so he continues;

“My observation is that many of us who grew up Mennonite have struggled to come to peace with our past experiences. We remember the days when we were, in fact, very different culturally. It was embarrassing to stand out in the crowd. It is so much easier psychologically to ‘fit in’ with the multitude. And, now, particularly in the U.S. context, we fear the possibility of being ostracized by our neighbors if we dare to challenge prevailing assumptions.

What does this have to do with EMU and Mennonite education? I’ve devoted most of my adult life to this mission for one simple reason: I believe Mennonite Anabaptists have had (and still have) a unique theological perspective- and practice- that is needed in our world. I am disappointed with the headlong rush to “be like everyone else” as though our theological forebears were badly mistaken. Frankly, I think the burden of proof is on those who have embraced the majority culture. Again, the New Testament hardly promises that the followers of Jesus will enjoy majority status.

I’ve frequently said that I am ‘proud’ to be a Mennonite, though I always add with a smile, ‘I’m proud in a humble sort of way.’ That’s not because I value being Mennonite above being a follower of Christ. I do believe, however, that it’s not possible to be a generic Christian. We are all part of theological streams with historical wellsprings, whether we are charismatic, Pentecostal, Lutheran, or Anabaptist- and whether we realize it or not.

If EMU and our sister Mennonite schools and colleges are not unique and thoroughly committed to being Anabaptists as followers of Jesus, there is little reason for them- for us at EMU- to exist. There are hundreds of good, academically strong institutions that do a great job of educating young adults.

I am astounded at the number of parents around the church who aren’t aware of this simple fact: We’re different from other colleges. Even other educational and denominational leaders recognize we represent something unique. One university president from South Dakota, himself a Baptist, told me recently, ‘You Mennonites are among the few in the whole country who are making any sense right now.’

Jennifer Jag Jivan, a member of the Church of Pakistan (a merger of four Protestant denominations) and a recent MA graduate, described the difference this way in a recent letter:

‘I feel richly blessed that my life crossed the Mennonites. Like all people, of course, they experience their ups and downs, church conflicts, and others, but they are a people whose commitment to walk in the love of God in humility renews one’s spirit in the goodness of humanity. My deep appreciation for all the Mennonites, whether meeting them in the cafeteria, bookstore, or classroom- their culture of helping others and meeting others where they are, and spreading this culture of love and peace- is breath-taking indeed! But what is more, this environment is so catching that it enables others to embrace this spirit and be the miracle of this love-sharing life. This is unique and very special to EMU.’

These statements are not reasons to become prideful, but they do show that others see something distinctive, a difference worth preserving. It may seem strange for a university president to say that he doesn’t really care is his institution exists in the year 2006, 20 years from now. And I don’t, not for the sake of the university itself. But, I do care, with all my heart and soul, that the church’s witness is strong in the year 2026. I’m convinced it will only be so if a substantial number of our youth receive a Mennonite education.

To those who have stuck with me to this point in my ‘sermon’ and who are surprised at my audacity and passion, I made a similar speech to the EMU Parents’ Council one morning last spring. I made it totally off the cuff, after I had forgotten I was to join them, and then I apologized for my passion. I reflected that perhaps I’m getting old, and that I no longer feel as if I have much to lose. They were slightly stunned, I think, and then said, ‘Put it in writing. You’re preaching to the choir.’

My life would be blessed if the ‘choir’ would carry the message and deliver their young adults in large numbers to EMU and all of our Mennonite schools- and most blessed when those graduates have become the faithful members and leaders of the church tomorrow.

To those from other theological traditions reading this, I am grateful for your recognition of and appreciation for EMU’s unique role in this world. I am grateful, too, for the insights you bring to us and to this role.”

From Time Magazine’s Feb 5, 2007 issue.

“The 2008 presidential campaign may show that race, religion, and gender don’t matter, but money still talks, and more loudly than ever. In 2003, John Edwards surprised everyone by raking in $7 million in campaign donations in the the first three months of the year. That amount will be like Monopoly money after 2008. Strategists says the two eventual party nominees could well spend up to $500 million each before the general election.”

Nine words, folks.

What. in. the. world. is. wrong. with. this. picture?

1. Read Ariah Fine’s blog.

2. Find some parallel thoughts to some disquieting thoughts you’ve had recently (that make friends shake their heads and tell you to shut it).

3. Share your own disquieting thoughts on your blog…

It is my contention that the American system of capitalism, while it is the most radically profitable system of economics this world carries at this present moment, it also is the most radically inequitable system of economics this world has ever seen, short of straight despotic tyranny. I’ll simplify it down to one thought, because any attempt to make a sweeping comment about this would drain too much brain energy from my sermon-writing right now and would probably ramble like…someone who rambles a lot.

Capitalism is driven primarily by the profit motive. Thus, companies are judged to be successful or unsuccessful ultimately by their ability to make lots of bucks. In the process of the pursuit of this profit, corporations act like greedy individuals in this profit maximization pursuit, not caring about the impact of their actions on the third-parties that aren’t directly involved in the company/client business.

As a result, we have situations like East St. Louis (drawn out most powerfully by Jonathan Kozol in his book Savage Inequalities…which I highly recommend despite some big-time biased investigation on Kozol’s part), and the mercury-infested waters of the South River in Waynesboro 15 minutes away from me thanks to DuPont, etc etc.

Basically, in a vacuum, companies don’t give a rip about the ripple-effect of their actions (called externalities) if their main pursuit is the profit motive. Even principled companies find themselves pushed into this rat race of pursuit of profit if they proceed uncritically. As a result, the people in the economic system apply the same thinking to their lifestyles (most food, staple items for the least money to maximize their money, etc etc). Hence, Wal-Mart.

And in all this process, we could assume that capitalism is the best we’ve got. I say the church is a model society that tells capitalism to take its pursuit of profit (and the earth it chews up and spits out when its done with it) and shove it where the sun don’t shine. I say the church is meant to be a socialist system where the lives of individuals are NOT forgotten for the sake of the affluence of the whole. But maybe I’m stupid. You read the first five chapters of Acts and tell me what YOU see. You know, I just don’t think it’s possible as a human in our limited vision to suggest we love the whole and act for the health of the whole by ignoring or sweeping under the rug those who the system leaves behind.

I’m tired of this thinking in my life, and I will fight it. And this is longer than a short statement, but oh well.

4. a link to Ariah’s disquieting thoughts.

p.s. I just saw Ariah’s widget that suggests Savage Inequalities on his sidebar. Cool coincidence…he didn’t have that book up last I looked.

I saw the movie “Half Nelson” on Friday evening, Oct 27th, at Court Square Theater in Harrisonburg (which by the way is a sweet place), and I walked out of the theater with strong emotions. I’ve been trying to get a handle on those emotions since then, and in the process found two things:

1)It’s not often (in this age of relatively shallow Hollywood movies that have resulted from our relatively shallow culture and our willingness to chuck out large amounts of cash over a long period of time to find something (anything!) to take our minds off reality) that I walk out of a movie feeling intense emotions, and
2)I often don’t pay attention to tracing the emotions to their root, or at the very least spend some time thinking about why I was so affected, and thus walk right back into my life as if the movie and the time spent in it never existed. Given time and other priorities, the movie is often reduced to “good” or “bad” or “mediocre.” And so I place it in the unofficial movie pecking order of my life and move on.

As a result of this awareness, I am going to try to slog through what I thought I saw in this movie, how it moved me, what it exposed in me (honestly!), and how I’ll respond with my life. If there’s one thing I’m tired of in my life, it’s mediocrity and simply occupying a place in the long line of humans who have lived and died on this earth…sucking in my oxygen, exhaling my contribution to global warming, and living a life centered on Nate.

So what did Half Nelson have to say to me?

It’s the story of a middle school history teacher who carries an ideal that he wants to affect at least one person in his life for the better. That’s his goal, and in that mix he carries an unorthodox teaching style where he seeks to have his kids look deeper than just memorizing and regurgitating fill-in-the-blank and multiple choice answers that don’t help his students comprehend and make sense out of reality.

The trouble is, Teacher Dan (Gosling) doesn’t know how to make sense of reality himself. His life is full of mountains and valleys, and he copes with this unpredictable reality with cocaine, crack, and some quick booty without relational attachments. His drug problem exacerbates rather than evens out his bumpy life, and he makes the mistake of smoking crack in a spot where one of his seventh grade basketball players finds him. Instead of ratting him out, though, this girl becomes a positive influence in his life. Maybe she can be the one he impacts for the better? She seems engaged in his class, eager to learn…but in taking her home several times, he sees the lure of the drug trade and urban decay threatening to suck her in.

He tries to be the hero, and fails…continuing to exhibit a hopelessly broken life. But this girl, instead of packing it in and giving up, continues to care about and for him (maybe that’s because she’s got a teacher crush on him…very possible given the nature of emotional attraction for ignoring reality…or maybe she just genuinely cares and wants to be an influence for good in his life). In the mix of things, Dan spends some time at home, where his parents, once Vietnam agitators who had a compelling vision for their lives, have fallen into middle-class numb existence, thinking they’re living out their ideals (while their ideals carry no practical reality) and ignoring reality by medicating themselves with perpetual drunkenness.

This has to be a commentary on the sad state of the American left; pretending to care about problems like poverty and social inequity in general while doing little to nothing about it other than punching a ballot, intellectually claiming to believe that liberalism is the answer for the world’s problems, with no life-altering commitment to either. (this is where I insert my belief that the opposite extreme of conservatism is just as insidious and incompetent and elitist and sad as its polar opposite).

The movie didn’t resolve. No, “I’ve been waiting for you,” or “I’m drug-free and happy for life,” or some heart-warming basketball championship for the girl and the teacher that enables both of them to exorcize their personal demons. And I’m glad.

Running with my idea of the status quo in our society mentioned above, I wasn’t surprised in walking out of the movie theater to see all the endorsing blurbs on the movie poster having nothing to do with the substance of the movie…I don’t know if they’ll be big enough for you to read in the above picture, but the blurbs say, “Ryan Gosling gives an astonishing performance!” and “Powerful. Gosling is among the most exciting actors of his generation!” and “A near-perfect film. The acting is flat-out amazing. Epps is a major find.” Are you kidding me? A movie like this, and all you can talk about is the careers (realized or potential) of the individuals? For my money, I don’t go see a movie because you tell me the actor or actress has an “astonishing performance.” Maybe I’m supposed to; that way I can maintain some degree of separation from the raw reality that this individual movie portrayed, and deny the fact that I see strong parallels in the weaknesses of humanity I share with the teacher. If I maintain that separation, I can walk out of the theater, plunge right back into my life, and forget that I ever felt uncomfortable at certain points as the story got close to MY struggles.

My thought upon seeing the movie poster was, “Finally, a solid movie that doesn’t buy into the movie peer pressure to resolve a big problem with a neat little bow in an hour-and-a-half or less, and I gotta come out of the theater to this?”

And maybe my next thought illustrates how much my ADD mind flits around from idea to idea and situation to situation, but I immediately thought about how this applies to the church. How often, on average, would you say a pastor hears one of two things from the congregation?

1) That sermon was good. Well-delivered.
2) Thank you for what you said. Hearing it that way made me think about (this or that aspect of my life…or this or that weakness…or this or that calling)

I’d guess the average pastor hears the first 97% of the time. Because you and I are enculturated to be surface people…because we’re enculturated to be consumers…and because we’re enculturated not to pay attention to the cries of our hearts; just hop around from entertaining thing to entertaining thing; rate each thing on the 1 to 10 scale of the excitement it offered for you, and refuse to go deeper.

If there’s anything I bring away from Half Nelson, it’s two awarenesses:
1) The system is broken. We are broken. Irretrievably.
2) We need to admit we are powerless to effect any long-term change in the system by ourselves. (because the change will be short-term, and our problems cyclical)

In response to what I consider to be two truth statements, I need to be willing to ask myself and others some questions…deep, searching questions…about how that raw awareness impacts my life. Do I need to alter my life in response to this movie? What did it uncover in my heart? Will I seek to separate myself from the teacher but pointing a finger at his drug habit without pointing a finger at my weaknesses that are crippling me? Does it jog me out of the semi-numb state I exist in much of the time to be deeply invested in something?

The prevailing message screams at me daily, “Stay busy. Forget about the layers. Don’t think about or listen to your heart. Just perpetuate the status quo.” And more often than not, because I’m weak, I give in. I let myself be mediocre. But because God entered the picture, turned my life upside-down, and called me to follow Him, I don’t want to be mediocre any more; I’m tired of being an object for others to manipulate and extract resources from; I want my life to matter.

The question that remains now is if my want will turn into a physical reality. My life will give the answer.

Ok, so I’ve started “The Cost of Discipleship” (known just as “Discipleship” now, I think) by Dietrich Bonhoeffer recently, and the man is just slicing through all my layers of cynicism, self-protection, and defence mechanisms like a knife through warm butter. I’m always wary of things that sound good and get me emotionally fired up both because emotional ploys only last so long without heart change; and sometimes the “sounds good” stuff can rip the rug right out from underneath me (in a bad way)…so I try to be as objective as possible.

But just like AW Tozer, Bonhoeffer won’t let me occupy this place. Both their writings pulse with life and truth, and make me want not only to be a better man and follower of Christ, but engage and embrace the hard steps of discipleship to get there. The glaring flaw of Bonhoeffer’s life of seeking to assassinate Hitler (as well as his anguish in his decision-process leading up to and after his imprisonment) helps me to see him for who he was. A normal guy given an incredible opportunity at true life who pursued that life with all he was; who stumbled and fell, but had the guts and courage to get back up and keep running. Here’s a longish quote from the Intro that keeps striking me…

“In the last resort, what we want to know is not, what would this or that man, or this or that Church, have of us, but what Jesus Christ himself wants of us. When we go to church and listen to the sermon, what we want to hear is his Word – and that not merely for selfish reasons, but for the sake of the many for whom the Church and her message are foreign. We have a strange feeling that if Jesus himself – Jesus alone with his Word – could come into our midst at sermon time, we should find a quite different set of men hearing the Word, and quite a different set rejecting it…the real trouble is that the pure Word of Jesus has been overlaid with so much human ballast – burdensome rules and regulations, false hopes and consolations – that it has become extremely difficult to make a genuine decision for Christ. Of course it is our aim to preach Christ and Christ alone, but, when all is said and done, it is not the fault of our critics that they find our preaching so hard to understand…it is just not true that every word of criticism directed against contemporary preaching is a deliberate rejection of Christ and proceeds from the spirit of Antichrist.

So many people come to church with the genuine desire to hear what we have to say, yet they are always going home with the uncomfortable feeling that we are making it too difficult for them to come to Jesus….They are convinced that it is not the Word of Jesus himself that puts them off, but the superstructure of human, institutional, and doctrinal elements in our preaching. Of course we know all the answers to these objections, and those answers certainly make it east for us to slide out of our responsibilities. But perhaps it would be just as well to ask ourselves whether we do not in fact often act as obstacles to Jesus and his Word.“

If you took the time to read the entire quote, the end is what strikes me so directly. I can’t help but think that society for a long period of time knew they had questions and assumed they could “go to church” to find answers to those questions. However, as they pursued, they found more and more that churches often hit them with careful and well-laid-out doctrinal formulas and systematic theologies that, by hook or by crook, ended up confusing them or frustrating them. Is it possible that incrementally people have darkened the doors of churches less and less because they weren’t finding space there to investigate the longings and questions of their heart? Have our three-point self-help (or process-oriented, but just as empty) sermons and black and white answers to grey questions in fact driven people away from the very places and people they should have the space to explore?

Often the interplay between Emergent worship and more rigid structures of worship centers around preaching and worship structure. I think the heart of the issue runs much deeper than that. It’s not about candles, but candles can help. It’s not about preaching, though active-learning models help. It’s not about participatory worship, though participatory worship can help. I think it’s about strategic leaders in churches pursuing Christ first and foremost, though all else would fall away. It’s not about the financial or butts-in-seats or sermon type or worship structure bottom line. God is forming a people to stick by Him and depend on Him no matter what…

When people come to Middle River on Sundays for worship, do they see more Nate and less Jesus or more Jesus and less Nate? When the youth God has entrusted us with see me during the week, do they see more Nate and less Jesus or more Jesus and less Nate?

I weep at my inadequacy and self-centeredness that is being so ruthlessly exposed by God through men like AW Tozer and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the other young men in our Bible Study, and the crisis situations of those suffering in our church. May we the global church define our lives by the “single eye,” that whether we are busy or not, we cultivate the continual attention to God’s movement and desires for how to use our lives…that as we simplify and obey the call to love God and neighbor sacrificially, we find true life and (not so ironically) that life glowing before others.

I’ll probably have a few more comments in the future regarding thoughts this book sparks in me.

In the past few weeks, I’ve seen two movies that pushed me into a painful spot, and I’ve been struggling with my thoughts (and even convictions!) since, and they still might not be terribly coherent, but isn’t that what a blog is for? So here goes.

Both of these films revealed a world I do not know, yet painfully experienced over the course of their running. I struggle to put words to my emotions from these movies.

The first, Boyz N the Hood gave a realistic portrayal of the daily reality of living in South Central LA; drugs rampant, single mothers, a consistent sense of dis-ease (even in one’s home), and the daily reality of death. It seems easy to me after seeing this movie how those who exist in this environment simply shut down emotionally and settle for surviving from day to day. Honestly, it gave me more ammunition to get angry (usually expressed in my inner self) when I hear the tired old lines like “the poor are poor because they’re (lazy, won’t pull themselves up by their bootstraps, immoral, insert a sweeping judgment).” It’s just obvious to me that we are free to say these things when we don’t immerse ourselves in the daily experience of those facing the daunting challenge of poverty and the devaluing of life…Josh Brown (and I’m sure others) call it the “Challenge of the Suburbs”; that we should be aware that many churches that claim to be working “for the good of the city” are really largely white, middle-class, and drive Acura SUVs and that their worship and dress screams that when others who do not fit the type enter the doors (are you listening, McLean Bible Church?). I pastor a country church, and it’s just obvious to me what stands in the way of those struggling to make ends meet being a part of our community…the ethos bleeds middle-class. I mean, even when we talk about ministering to the poor or those who don’t know Christ, it’s as if we expect something immediately from them: “I gave you cash, why don’t you get off your lazy *^& and get a job and succeed, for heaven’s sake!” or “I’m investing my life in you, and you’ve got two more months of love from me before you have to make a decision to follow Christ…otherwise, I’m gone.”

It seems to me the only way out of this is for us to be willing to enter into the discomfort and gray areas of humbling ourselves before and serving the poor and needy (all kinds of needs) all around us. Because we love them. Period. A willingness to consistently be there will stretch us beyond what we consider to be mission (chucking out a little cash, along with the annual soup kitchen visit) to recognize these are lives to give our lives for. Whether they accept what we have to offer or not. Because really, did Jesus meet instant success and sweeping acclamation by all he came into contact with? No…the guy was a status-quo-wrecker in a variety of ways. Sure, the countryside got turned upside-down by the fellow, but he was splitting families, hammering the rich, and showing a near “unholy” commitment to loving the poor and sick no matter what! Derek Webb addressed the middle-class comfort of the church within the boundaries of America I think in an incredible way:

“poverty is so hard to see
when it’s only on your tv and twenty miles across town
where we’re all living so good
that we moved out of Jesus’ neighborhood
where he’s hungry and not feeling so good
from going through our trash
he says, more than just your cash and coin
i want your time, i want your voice
i want the things you just can’t give me

so what must we do
here in the west we want to follow you
we speak the language and we keep all the rules
even a few we made up
come on and follow me
but sell your house, sell your suv
sell your stocks, sell your security
and give it to the poor
what is this, hey what’s the deal
i don’t sleep around and i don’t steal
i want the things you just can’t give me“

I continue to believe that Derek Webb makes good music with INCREDIBLE lyrics that need to be heard.

I think I’ll say one thing and let this rest for a bit: The problem of poverty is not simple, and cannot be solved by uncritically toeing the lines of either the liberal or conservative position. In fact, the problem is cyclical and can only be dealt with by a group of people seizing their calling from God to live with radical love and radical generosity and radical patience and energy to simply love others the way God loves them. A willingness to carry this out will stretch us to really grow in the multi-faceted response poverty demands. A good example of such a community (not a sweeping paradigm suggestion, an example) is this one in Philly:

The Simple Way

Their website has plenty of links to other communities undertaking the same endeavour.