Help Yourself.

It's not my fault.

I think most people agree with that statement, at least through the consistency of their actions. Last night our Presidential election came to an end, re-electing President Barack Obama for a second term. As expected, social media this morning is flooded with articles and posts about their feelings on the election. For the most part what you'll see is people dissatisfied and disappointed, spewing accusation at all those who voted opposite them and "ruined our country," and it's what you would have seen from a different set of people in the case of a different result. The only aid I can offer for those who are filled with disappointment or anger is to say this: It's your fault.

After the polls were in and Romney had conceded to Obama, news anchors began to weigh in on the present failures and the future strategies of the Republican Party. They said they had failed to secure the Mexican vote. That they needed to be more sensitive to the 54% of female voters out there. They only appealed to "white working Americans." When considering who the next candidates should be in 2016, there was a lot of energy spent determining who would appeal to certain key demographics and be able to secure voters from particular states. Ironically, nothing was mentioned regarding potential candidates who have noble character, who have the capacity to lead our country out of dark days, or who champion causes of actual importance. We only need to know who is likely to get votes.

Demographics are not sinful, but in elections, they represent the word that is most synonymous to sinfulness: selfishness. Why would it bother you that campaigns can successfully target a demographic by siding on an issue that represents them, and subsequently win their votes? Well, what bothers me is that we predictably vote for what is good for us before we vote for what is good for our country, or our state, or simply some other people who are just not us. Teachers are going to vote for schools. Latinos are going to vote for immigration. Rich people are going to vote for tax brackets. It's not mere irony if you vote in a way that helps your job, your family, your wallet, and when you get a vote that can help someone and you help yourself. This is how politicians get elected not for their character, but for their appeal. We instinctively villainize them because they've taken advantage of us, when maybe they just know us.

In the words of V, "If you're looking for someone to blame, you need only look in a mirror."

When Jesus showed up as the Messiah, everyone wanted him to change their nation to give them more freedom, give them more authority; with every question and favor that asked of Jesus, they were voting to help themselves. And as a paraphrased summary to Jesus' reply, he told them "You don't need to change your nation, you need to change yourselves." We don't like that kind of advice any more than they did, but as I look at our country, fragmented and largely dissatisfied, I hope that we'll understand that we're not discontent because our country reflects our values too little, but because it reflects them too much.

It's not our nation that desperately needs to change. It's us.

Why superhero films are so serious

This weekend, The Dark Knight Rises opened in theaters, concluding a darker, more brutal, and simply more real-life rendition of the Batman saga that has ever been seen. Nolan's final film, like the sequel, depicts some pretty realistic violence, madness, and anarchy.

So, is it too brutal?

The tragic (some would say ironic) shooting in a CO theatrical premiere of The Dark Knight Rises has, not surprisingly resulted in the film industry being expected to answer for the crimes of a real-life madman. My thoughts on this must be rooted in two concepts I hold to be universally true: First, that humans are impressionable, especially to the suggestions of digital media. Second: our responses to tragedy are often too soon, too irrational, and usually crippled by paranoia.

How can the on-screen violence be explained in the wake of the actual crime? Is it culprit or coincidence?

What I find interesting is that the worlds of superheroes are merging with ours. It says a lot about us and our desires when you watch the transformation that Batman has made from Adam West's tame WHAM-POW 1960's Caped Crusader, to a crime-focused cartoon series of the early 90's, and now a thinly veiled commentary of our modern society's ills in the Dark Knight saga. Perhaps you could make a case for basing this on the degradation of American culture between now and then, or that the change has been fueled primarily by a technological revolution that has taken us from cartoonish onomatopoeia to Operation Sky Hook. But I don't think either of those things are the reason we are here.

We see the worlds of Superheroes merging with our own, not as much because we want to corrupt the digital universe, but because we want to bring heroes to our own. Perhaps it's no coincidence that movies are starting to look like our front-page headlines. At least in movies, Bruce Wayne is there to do something about all the evil and destruction. I think we make movies like this because we can create and interact in a world that is actually corrupt, quite like our own, but where people capably stand in the gap between the evil and the innocent. Even if it takes superpowers and bat-arsenals to do it.

We already know how messed up our world is. Movies help us to think that there is a brighter future to our own dark days. And the darker the days are in our films, the more real the hope seems.

It can't hurt people to start buying into this idea that they need a savior. Maybe it will help them to adapt when they realize they've got one.

Nothing New - Emergence and Ecclesiastes

After talking to my friend on the phone, I noticed a very common thread weaving its way through our conversation about church work, God's work, and work satisfaction. In three full-time years of youth ministry, I've experienced a pretty broad spectrum of the combination of those three things, and seen some significant change in my disposition as a result.

Clearly, every pastor wants God's work to be done. Every Christian wants that, and it satisfies them to see it happen. So as a pastor doing church work, seeing it divinely touched as God's work brings a great deal of work satisfaction. Of course, it is no surprise to anyone of faith that this is not always the case, and is often quite contrary to the reality of many Pastors and church workers. The "emergent church" has gorged on the plentiful bounty born out of the frustration brought on by this, and has become discontent with discontent. The church is frustrated that God isn't dropping pillars of fire out of the sky or moving their mountains. The pastor is frustrated that the church isn't picking up their Bibles or moving their feet. And so all of them in one accord decide to abandon all of the problems inherited through their tradition and their doctrine and head to greener pastures. Or greener pastors.

One thing that really excited me about going to college was outfits. Glorious, mismatching, eclectic outfits. As a high schooler, I remember seeing college students wearing a bizarre mishmash of mismatching clothes that they pulled out of their closet and put on with the confidence and abandon that just made it work. You can imagine my elation when I graduated from the shackles of prep/jock/skater cookie-cutter molds of pre-collegiate expectation and evolved into a realm of wardrobe nirvana where "unique" is in, and "conformity" is out. I could finally be cool on my own terms. It was utopia.

Then I graduated again.

As adults, we all have a fairly firm grasp (with the exception of Phil Dunphy) that we're really not cool, and there's nothing we can wear to change that. Because of this, my wardrobe has defaulted to conformity. What I wear now is no longer rooted in defiance, nor in conformity, nor in coolness. Reality has reduced me to such a man who may be found buying plain, printless t-shirts. Style is not my primary concern; I am content to be clothed. All of the textile pioneering I accomplished in college is now negated by the inevitable constraints of age.

Typical to a youth of the emergent generation, I have had my qualms with the church. I have had my dreams of change. And for the most part, as with my wardrobe, I have ended up right where I began.

Emergence has held up the apostolic church as a symbol of perfection, and even pre-emergence, it was popular to idolize Acts 2 and all the remarkable things the Holy Spirit was doing in the church in that moment. Despite having such a limited glimpse into that spectacular ecosystem, that snapshot has sparked thousands of dreams of church leaders and Jesus-followers who want "the real thing" and think they've found the formula for it. This image enlightens us that we've messed it all up, need to hit the reset button, and finally get it right like they did, (also, replacing antiquated word-ingredients like "transgression" and "born-again" and "saved" with fresh word-ingredients like "doing life" and "narrative" and "conversation" seems to help.) 

All the while, we ignore that in Acts 2, people are just about 20 years from getting it all wrong again.

About 55 AD, probably less than a decade after Jesus died and the Holy Spirit reinvented religion as the world knew it, the apostle Paul penned out some letters that are now canonized under the names Galatians and Corinthians (just to select a few.) His primary concern in these letters is to address the mess that people have made of the Gospel, and how in need of his wise leadership, and more importantly, God's Spirit and direction, they really are. Other epistles share the same theme. As it turns out, people in the celebrated churches of historic spiritual inception really messed things up and made each other unhappy. Now being past the honeymoon phase of modern "emergence," many "pioneers" are realizing the same thing. They're seeing that they left "the system" to create...a system...that is starting to become..."the system."

I distinctly noticed the real irony of my collegiate clothing adventures when I returned to a college campus a few weeks ago and noticed so many students reliving this distinct phase of wardrobe liberation just as I had done, only now being able to comprehend what is in store for them. I wanted to reach out and draw them into a fatherly embrace and peacefully whisper in their ear "you don't have to try. It's all going to be ok." (In retrospect, it's probably best that I didn't as a series of predictable misunderstandings would have required someone to post bail for me.)

So my question for the spiritually discontent is this: What is it you are trying to reinvent? No doubt some systems function better than others, but are you convinced that there is anything under the sun that is not doomed to the failure of the human touch? I had to graduate a few times in my faith before I really felt at peace with some of the scars on the face of the church that are so obvious, only a Father could love her. Yet I am certain He still does. So whether you're a part of a messed up church, or whether you're dreaming of and creating something new that is going to eventually become a messed up church, I hope the Father's love of you and your messed up self and your messed up system gives you peace. 

Even after you've graduated enough times to find that there is nothing new under the sun.

Good Enough

I've been thinking about contentment lately. I don't think it's an attitude that breeds very well in the petri dish of rich countries like ours, and as all things that are like this, it's a bad characteristic that gets ingrained into some pretty good people. But I was thinking about the passive nature of contentment, and what it would look like to do it intentionally.

Now if you're a naturally content person, I guess it wouldn't look like anything, but I think most of us passively have the desire for more gnawing on our brain stem. I'm in the process of buying a new home right now, and maybe a new(er) car. Some of the cause of that is repair bills, but I wonder how much of it is really seated in a lack of contentment. I pay a lot of lip service to what God has blessed me with in this life, and I really mean it when I acknowledge what He's given me. I would say I'm one of the more content people I know, but I can't avoid the reality that there are some forces in me that I'm still learning to control (can you relate?) But ultimately, I think God has put it within the realm of our humanity to set some of these desires under our own power, and if nothing else, under the power of the Holy Spirit in us.

So here's an idea, take it or leave it... I thought it would be an interesting personal experiment to try to be deliberately content for a month. Basically, what that means is that you stop using the phrase "I want that." You stop spending your money that way. Stop getting upset and whining about how _________ isn't good enough, or how you deserve better. A lot of it is really just about pausing before you act and asking if it needs replacing, if it's worth doing or buying, if it's constructive or just a complaint. If it's really necessary, or if it's really about me not being content. I think I'm going to try it in April. I just decided while I was typing this.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Samurai vs. Pirate

Despite the fact that I don't really love reading, I love learning. So sometimes I read.

Mostly, my shelf is filled with Christian books, as that is the subject I'm most interested in mastering–not that you can really call it that. The Bible has such unsearchable depth and nuance, it always seems like there is something amazing to be discovered. But I've been branching out lately, and learning some cool things from some cool books like these:

Bushido: the Soul of Japan
This book, by Inazo Nitobé is a gem of wisdom. I have so much reverence for samurai culture, and the more I learn about it, the more awesome it becomes. Every guy would love how hard-core it all is. At one point, Nitobé writes about samurai children being sent at night to sites of public execution with instructions to leave a marker of their presence on a freshly severed head. This was done to acquaint them with death so they would not fear it when their time came to die in battle. But accompanying this callused toughness is a gentle wisdom that builds principled men of integrity who think that honor is valued above life, and that courage is not reckless abandon, but bravery in doing justice.

Uniquely, this account of samurai culture is written by a Christian Japanese native, which adds a powerful ethical backdrop to this culture of hardened righteousness. It's free on iBooks.

Swing Your Sword: Leading the Charge in Football and Life
Texas Tech fans know the name Mike Leach well, but knowing his whole story is pretty awesome. This guy has some impressive integrity, and the most dry, matter-of-fact code of self-conduct you've ever seen. A good mix of moral insight and autobiographical storytelling, this book has a small target audience, but I'm not sure how you could read it and not be impressed with this man. The book truly transcends his sporting career because Leach is "an endlessly innovative and original character, who just happened to coach football." (foreword)  Glad he's back to coaching. Look for Washington State to start winning an unprecedented amount of games in the next few seasons.
_____
There's cool stuff out there. Feel free to share some good reads with me as well!

Great Expectations

I used Psalm 101 in my guys' Bible Study last night. Here is an excerpt of David's poem:

 I will walk in my house
   with blameless heart.
³ I will set before my eyes
   no vile thing.

   The deeds of faithless men I hate;
   they will not cling to me.
⁴ Men of perverse heart shall be far from me;
   I will have nothing to do with evil.

 ⁵ Whoever slanders his neighbor in secret,
   him will I put to silence;
whoever has haughty eyes and a proud heart,
   him will I not endure.

 ⁶ My eyes will be on the faithful in the land,
   that they may dwell with me;
he whose walk is blameless
   will minister to me. (NIV84)

This poem outlines two ideas, two promises that David is making to God.

1: This is my standard for myself

2: This is my expectation of my company

You may have noticed what is already obvious; David's standards are incredibly high. This passage resonates with me as a man not only because of how much David believes in his ability to rise to the occasion of being the man God is calling him to be, but also because of how empowered his responses are to the actions of those around him.

Think about it. The last time you heard someone talking behind someone else's back, did you put them to silence? Do you endure the presence of arrogant friends? David exercised restraint to cut himself off from evil, and he uses his influence to cut evil off from his presence. That's a righteous man.

Hold others to a standard of righteousness. Let them know. Show them how.

Simplif

I like words. Especially ironic words. For instance, have you noticed before that the word "palindrome," which describes words that are spelled the same forwards and backwards, is not a palindrome? It's kind of awesome. Another one is "Simplify." Three syllables doesn't strike me as something that is being made less complex. Someone should change that.

Anyway, this last weekend, God gave me a reminder about simplicity. The source of this is rooted in my sincere belief that all parts of the Bible are not equally important. (I can say this with confidence that God will not zap me with lightning.) I realized how much focus that I can give to the parts that are less important if I'm not focused on the ones that are crucial.

I've been a Christian for a long time, and sometimes I can forget that those who I am privileged to preach to do not share my background. They don't understand all the scriptural references I do. They don't need the same convictions of heart that I need. But they need to know the Jesus I know, and it's the saving sacrifice of this Jesus that I can forget when I get wrapped up in dogmatic debates whose outcomes of a fist pump cannot compare to a life-saving victory of the Gospel winning a heart to Jesus. It's this that calls me to simplification, editing the content of my teaching or even my beliefs, so that people don't fail to take away from my teaching or conversation the most important point of scripture: God loves us so much that he gave up the life of Jesus, so that anyone that believes in Him will be saved from death.

Sounds familiar.

St. Francis once said "Preach the Gospel at all times. When necessary, use words." Good advice. Just don't forget: sometimes it's necessary to use words.

It's a simple question. (Part 3)

Being a Christian is about sacrificing yourself to God.

Why? Well, it depends on where you want to start. For instance, if you start in the Beginning. Who makes the first sacrifice to God in the Bible? It's not Cain and Abel. Start earlier.

“You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; ¹⁷ but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die.” (Gen 2 NIV)

Have everything else you want, but sacrifice this one thing. We often think of sacrifices as things that we do have, then give up. We put it on the altar, and burn it up. But sometimes the sacrifice, like this one, is to never have what we want. If you look at it this way, then every command of God is not only demanding obedience; it is demanding some form of sacrifice. That kind of idea is a lot bigger than rams and knives and the book of Leviticus.

The next two great characters of the Old Testament are Noah and Abraham (Abram), and God's first words to each of them are a demand for sacrifice. Respectively, he tells them, "Build a giant floating zoo," and "Move your whole family from your home. I'll tell you where you're going later." (para: Gen 6:13-14; Gen 12:1)

So why is this a sacrifice?

Because I'm not a carpenter.
Because they will call me crazy.
Because the lions will eat me.
Because I'm too old.
Because I'm happier here.
Because my sandal is broken.
Because you're not giving me enough information.
Because it's in my family's best interest.
Because I don't want to.

Every excuse that didn't pass their lips was a sacrifice to God. Every feeling of confusion and doubt that they kept to themselves and gave him an offering of trust and obedience instead. That is sacrifice.

The New Testament follows the same pattern.

Sacrifice fairness; practice benevolence. (Mt 5:38-42)
Sacrifice confidence; practice faith. (Mt 6:25-34)
Sacrifice patriotism; bring bandages instead of bullets. (Lk 10:30-37)
Sacrifice doing it your way; throw your nets on the other side. (Jn 21:5-6)
Sacrifice your life; Jesus did this for you. (2 Cor 5:14-15)

If our relationship with God is not built around sacrificing ourselves for him, it is not because he hasn't required it; it's because we're afraid of it. Pride often clouds us to the point that we will not even accept the nature of such a relationship to him, but without accepting this, how can we even begin to know God?

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. ² Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Rom 12 NIV)

Sacrifice is the overarching image of man's relationship to God. It leads us to knowing his will.

It's what being a Christian is about.

It's a simple question. (Part 2)

I heard some ministers doing a segment on K-Love a few days ago about "God's will." Particularly, they were offering response to the question of some callers "How can I know God's will for me?" There were a few stutters and miscues as they fired up their engine, like "Well, you see, Scripture wants us to know... what I mean is, we are all made by God... If you'll look at Jesus' life..." Soon after, they were on track, and headed in a little more coherent direction, though it still included quite a few commas and run-on sentences as they tried to exhaustively cover every disclaimer they thought was necessary for all the foreseeable loopholes in what is a very broad theological subject.

I have no ill will towards these two guys or the station, because I think they are seeking Jesus to the best of their understanding and helping others along the Way. But I had to giggle a bit as they groped for an answer mostly because I had the privilege during Bible college to hear a very wise professor lecture on this subject, and what the radio guys outlined in three minutes, my professor summed up in eight words.

God's will is the redemption of all people.

Sometimes questions initially seem quite simple. Then we discover that they are far deeper than we had anticipated. But if we will be honest enough with ourself, our beliefs, and with the question itself, we will often return to the truth that the answer will be, like the question, quite simple even despite its depth.

So what would you say being a Christian is all about?

When the question was raised, my initial reaction was to think "oh yeah, I should definitely know the answer to this." Then I thought for a minute and came to the conclusion, "wow, I don't really know the answer to this." At least, I didn't immediately. And that feeling of disablement is somewhere between insulting and humiliating. After all, I've spent my life being a Christian, so why couldn't I answer this off the top of my head? I resolved to find a real answer.

Not unlike our radio friends, my initial thoughts were riddled with addendum's, and would have rendered listeners far more confused than they had been had they initialized the question themselves. Then it occurred to me that the answer was rather obvious and plain, just like God's will. 

Usually, our difficulties with answering these questions are self-inflicted because we are either asking or understanding the question wrongly–usually egocentrically. For instance, you will never sufficiently answer God's will for you until you recognize that his will, much like the Bible, isn't for you. And, if that's the question you're trying to answer on a radio show, your listeners are going to be in for a long drive. Only once you accept God's corporate interest in our world, can you neatly find the answers for yourself as you fit yourself into the answer, redeeming all people, instead of trying to fit the answer to your own circumstance. Similarly, a corporate perspective on Christianity will lead you to a definitive ending to a seemingly impossible question. Want to know what being a Christian is all about?

Being a Christian is about sacrificing yourself to God.

Plain and simple.

In the interest of keeping this at a readable length, I will expand the theology of sacrifice in my next post.

It's a simple question.

What is the meaning of life?

Has there ever been such a simple question that is so hard to answer? Statements like these are almost pieces of art. Childlike in innocence, yet opening the door to seemingly unlimited responses from every philosophical camp, each requiring nuanced explanation to justify their certainty.

Being a minister, these sorts of endless questions arise from time to time. And while philosophy and religion can be a fun game for the logical mind to puzzle over, you can't avoid the obvious implication that the answers being sought by questions of such depth are, even if unsearchable, pretty important. So we search.

A similarly simple/difficult question arose recently in a book I've been reading, Sticky Faith, where the author is seeking formative roots for a Christian identity during teenage years. If you're reading this, I implore you to respond, and I want you to answer it as immediately as you can, only thinking about it as long as you would think about answering me if I asked your name. So here is the question:

What would you say being a Christian is all about?

It's a simple question. In my next post, I'll tell you what it's all about ;)