I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the fact that Jesus never started a religion. He was born a Jew, raised a Jew, lived as a Jew, and remained a Jew throughout his life. He never told anyone to stop being Jews, or any other religion for that matter. He didn't say “you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my religion.”
He also never discussed music, whether it was good or bad, or what kinds should be considered sinful. He never told anyone not to dance. He never told anyone what not to wear. And he never told anyone not to drink alcohol. In fact, as we all know, he transformed water into wine. He apparently thought this was a more appropriate beverage for a good party.
Jesus sure seemed more concerned with religious hypocrisy than legislating morality. He was concerned with people’s hearts, not their exteriors. And he encouraged his followers not to worry so much about such outward things, but rather make sure they were doing well on the inside.
In fact, those who only cared about appearances, he called “white-washed tombs” and likened them to dirty dishes that had been polished on the outside but were full of rotten remains. And who were they, again? Oh yeah. The preachers and religious teachers.
He said they didn’t practice what they preached. He claimed they did everything to draw attention to themselves. That they always wanted the most important seat in the house and loved titles. That they tithed but neglected “the more important matters of the law – justice, mercy and faithfulness.” The similarities to today’s Christian celeb list are almost shocking. And Jesus said they were full of “greed and self-indulgence,” of “hypocrisy and wickedness.”
The church pendulum has swung from open warfare against pop culture to here lately pretty much adopting every aspect of it. Only about a decade after it was “pop.” It seems really interested in packaging the Gospel in a culturally relevant wrap. And somehow, the bigger and flashier the packaging gets, the smaller the contents become. It’s just like the supermarket!
Jesus never tried to be “relevant.” He never tried to look like, act like, or sound like the pop culture of the day. I’d say he was counterculture. Did he influence his culture? Sure. But he never meddled in people’s personal lifestyle preferences, such as taste in music, clothing or beverages. He cared about the well-being of the whole person.
He was into content and left the packaging alone.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Hibernation
Yeah. I feel alive. Everything’s been better lately. I feel like a person. A real human being. Feel like I’ve been slowly waking up from a long sleep, or something. My brain started functioning again. I’ve been having ideas. Funny… didn’t know my brain was asleep, but now that it is starting to wake up, I realize it’s been hibernating for a long time. It is stretching, yawning, sniffing the air... its circulation has slowly been increasing. I don’t think it is fully awake yet, but it is getting there. It is sensing that the winter is almost gone and there’s a scent of spring in the air. (Really, fall is what it is, but spring works better with the metaphor, hehe…) It is inhaling it. Drinking it in. Filling its lungs with it. Preparing to launch into a new season.
It’s not that anything on the outside has changed. Things are really no better or worse than they were months ago. But on the inside I feel alive. I feel like a part of me that has been hidden and numb for a long, long time is starting to stick its head out there, starting to show up. It’s like the real me finally decided to come forward.
Time might have something to do with it. Looking back, always working more than one job and running ragged all the time has probably not been a great recipe for a spicy inner life. Now, I feel I finally have time to be me. I’m a slow person. I require a lot of time. It takes awhile for me to do most things. I do them well, and thoroughly, given enough time. With too little time I neglect to even try. It’s that all-or-nothing mentality that has been plaguing me all my life. But I’m realizing, even being me requires a lot of time. Time to think. Time to get in touch with my emotions, my fears, my desires, my… thoughts. They require time. Simple as that.
It’s not that anything on the outside has changed. Things are really no better or worse than they were months ago. But on the inside I feel alive. I feel like a part of me that has been hidden and numb for a long, long time is starting to stick its head out there, starting to show up. It’s like the real me finally decided to come forward.
Time might have something to do with it. Looking back, always working more than one job and running ragged all the time has probably not been a great recipe for a spicy inner life. Now, I feel I finally have time to be me. I’m a slow person. I require a lot of time. It takes awhile for me to do most things. I do them well, and thoroughly, given enough time. With too little time I neglect to even try. It’s that all-or-nothing mentality that has been plaguing me all my life. But I’m realizing, even being me requires a lot of time. Time to think. Time to get in touch with my emotions, my fears, my desires, my… thoughts. They require time. Simple as that.
Monday, August 21, 2006
This I Believe
I used to believe in the power of God and Dad.
When as a kid I implored my parents for a pet, I was persistent. Asking for smaller and smaller pets as I figured this would increase my chances. After begging for a parakeet one night, Dad told me to pray and believe God for it.
So I did.
And sure enough, God and Dad came through, and I was granted permission to get a parakeet, on the strict condition that I alone take care of it.
And I did.
I devoted myself to my new pet and the many more parakeets, hamsters, mice, a rabbit and fish to come.
As a teenager, I wanted to go on a multi-nation mission trip, and again, Dad told me to believe God for the money to go. And again, God and Dad came through. Somehow, he was able to come up with the amount needed even though we didn't have much.
God and Dad were on a pedestal in my world.
They were powerful, benevolent beings to be respected and admired. Over time, through a series of unfortunate events, involving various members of the family, Dad was shot down from his high post, and with him, went God.
Dad and I have had a civil, yet distant relationship for years, and so have God and I. Though I often longed for a warmer, closer connection, I found myself unable to speak their language, as that would involve entering their reality.
God and Dad create reality. I am familiar with both their realities, but am currently living in the world of flesh and blood, of action and reaction, choice and consequence. I can relate to God’s spiritual reality as transcendent of this world, as above and beyond that of the senses, but I have difficulty entering that reality these days.
Perhaps it is not so much difficulty as it is unwillingness. It has taken me years to realize that I have always related to God through the reality of Dad. In our home, Dad’s word was law, and to Dad, the law was God’s word.
Ergo, Dad’s word equals God’s word. Dad’s reality becomes God’s reality.
When I no longer could, or would, speak Dad’s language, as it were, I found I lost my ability to communicate with God. When I stopped traveling to that remote and distant planet of Dad’s version of reality, I also stopped entering into the realm I had come to know as the presence of God.
So I spent a bunch of years trying to untangle what was God and what was Dad.
I’m still not totally sure half the time, but so far, I’ve come up with this:
God is good and so is Dad. God, however, has omniscient perspective, and Dad does not. God’s definition of good is often what we think is bad but ends up being good anyway… What Dad means for good often ends up bad. Dad fails and God doesn’t.
Dad wanted to teach me to believe in God – to trust in God and not in people. Inadvertently, Dad taught me to believe in himself. To expect him to come through with a solution to my problems. When he fell short of my expectations, I didn’t know what to believe.
It took me a long time to learn that there’s nothing wrong in needing people. Not to fix your problems or live life for you. But it is through people God shows his love, shows his will, interacts with us. No man is an island. People are the voice by which God communicates – most of the time. God became man. He chose the human form. He made friends.
Now, I believe in the power of God.
I believe this power is everywhere in the physical reality God created. In the air, in the mountains, in the streams – God is in the flowers, the trees – and in the people I find myself surrounded with. So, go ahead, talk to me. Engage me. I want to hear from God.
When as a kid I implored my parents for a pet, I was persistent. Asking for smaller and smaller pets as I figured this would increase my chances. After begging for a parakeet one night, Dad told me to pray and believe God for it.
So I did.
And sure enough, God and Dad came through, and I was granted permission to get a parakeet, on the strict condition that I alone take care of it.
And I did.
I devoted myself to my new pet and the many more parakeets, hamsters, mice, a rabbit and fish to come.
As a teenager, I wanted to go on a multi-nation mission trip, and again, Dad told me to believe God for the money to go. And again, God and Dad came through. Somehow, he was able to come up with the amount needed even though we didn't have much.
God and Dad were on a pedestal in my world.
They were powerful, benevolent beings to be respected and admired. Over time, through a series of unfortunate events, involving various members of the family, Dad was shot down from his high post, and with him, went God.
Dad and I have had a civil, yet distant relationship for years, and so have God and I. Though I often longed for a warmer, closer connection, I found myself unable to speak their language, as that would involve entering their reality.
God and Dad create reality. I am familiar with both their realities, but am currently living in the world of flesh and blood, of action and reaction, choice and consequence. I can relate to God’s spiritual reality as transcendent of this world, as above and beyond that of the senses, but I have difficulty entering that reality these days.
Perhaps it is not so much difficulty as it is unwillingness. It has taken me years to realize that I have always related to God through the reality of Dad. In our home, Dad’s word was law, and to Dad, the law was God’s word.
Ergo, Dad’s word equals God’s word. Dad’s reality becomes God’s reality.
When I no longer could, or would, speak Dad’s language, as it were, I found I lost my ability to communicate with God. When I stopped traveling to that remote and distant planet of Dad’s version of reality, I also stopped entering into the realm I had come to know as the presence of God.
So I spent a bunch of years trying to untangle what was God and what was Dad.
I’m still not totally sure half the time, but so far, I’ve come up with this:
God is good and so is Dad. God, however, has omniscient perspective, and Dad does not. God’s definition of good is often what we think is bad but ends up being good anyway… What Dad means for good often ends up bad. Dad fails and God doesn’t.
Dad wanted to teach me to believe in God – to trust in God and not in people. Inadvertently, Dad taught me to believe in himself. To expect him to come through with a solution to my problems. When he fell short of my expectations, I didn’t know what to believe.
It took me a long time to learn that there’s nothing wrong in needing people. Not to fix your problems or live life for you. But it is through people God shows his love, shows his will, interacts with us. No man is an island. People are the voice by which God communicates – most of the time. God became man. He chose the human form. He made friends.
Now, I believe in the power of God.
I believe this power is everywhere in the physical reality God created. In the air, in the mountains, in the streams – God is in the flowers, the trees – and in the people I find myself surrounded with. So, go ahead, talk to me. Engage me. I want to hear from God.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
About Time
Time is running away.
It’s like it committed a crime or something, its running so fast. Why is time in such a rush, anyway?! I think it has something to do with watches and computers.
They say what you don’t know won’t hurt you. Once upon a time, when time was young and lazy, we didn’t know all that much, so we must not have been hurting that much either.
Today, though, it’s a different story. In this age of information, we’ve got pretty much every piece of information we might ever want, literally at our fingertips. Just type your question into the computer, and BAM! There it is. The answer. Most diseases have been cured – although new ones keep cropping up. Those damned diseases. Won’t ever quit. Anyway, my point being, we’re well on our way to taming nature and conquering the universe.
But there’s one thing we’re still trying to figure out, and that is time. How the heck does it do that?! That thing. Slow and fast, slow fast, fast slow. When you want it to stand still, it becomes a sky rocket. When you want it to go ahead and hurry the bleep up, it becomes this syyyyyyyyyyrupy substance that barely moves.
Time is rushing like water.
That is, when it is in a rush. Which is most of the time. Rush, rush, rush… new directions, new challenges, new everything. You never see the same piece of time again. Never. It changes constantly, renewing itself, becoming something different. Time heals everything, they say. Well, that may be true. It’s just how the body heals itself. It just piles layers and layers of new cells on in place of the old, broken ones, and bam! You got a scab. And bam! You got a scar. And – maybe not bam, but eventually, maybe, scar’s gone, too. At least much less visible. With time.
Time is a strange creature.
A ball that bounces around with no apparent plan or direction. I pick it up in my hand to study it, to find out what it really looks like, must try and do something with it, then, all of a sudden it is gone like the spirit in Aladdin’s lamp; unnoticed it has vanished and run out between my fingers like sand in an hour glass.
Before, when time was just a round slice that trotted along, round and round in circles at a comfortable speed, there was no problem. But then the railroad was invented and the trains had to be on time. We had to start keeping track of time. Connections and communications were developed. Time was synchronized all over the world. Then we got digital watches. And that’s when time really got in a rush.
Ever watched a stopwatch count time? All those tenths and hundredths racing, galloping, flying ahead, crumbling away at time. Nothing left behind. A burning fuse being eaten away. And then came the nano-seconds. Computerized time tracking, because we had now broken time up into such small pieces that the human brain could no longer relate to it (just read Alvin Toffler’s Time Wars described in the Antioch Group - recommended.) No wonder we get stressed out!
Time to slow down.
People have never had as much spare time as in our time. And never have people complained as much about lack of time. But we need not forget that the same industry that provides us with all our “time saving” gadgets, also gives us plenty of stuff to waste our “saved” minutes and hours on. What would we do without TV or videogames, for crying out loud! Old people probably wonder why young ones always seem so stressed when they have their entire lives ahead of them to do whatever it is that they need to do. Truth of the matter is, they are the ones with a reason to stress out, with so little time left. But then, again, they were born of a different time.
Time to be. On time.
Which I rarely am, even though I always try to be. Why is it so difficult for me to be on time?! I think it has something to do with always trying to cram too much stuff into my time space. You know, that room of time we all have at our disposal. “I don’t have time,” we say. But that’s definitely a lie. If there’s one thing that is absolutely evenly divided between every human being, it is time. Rich or poor, high or low – we all have that same size room of time to furnish as we wish. Our problem is always trying to fit too much furniture in without thinking of leaving enough living space.
Enjoy the time you have. Be. Measure out some time to live.
It’s about time.
It’s like it committed a crime or something, its running so fast. Why is time in such a rush, anyway?! I think it has something to do with watches and computers.
They say what you don’t know won’t hurt you. Once upon a time, when time was young and lazy, we didn’t know all that much, so we must not have been hurting that much either.
Today, though, it’s a different story. In this age of information, we’ve got pretty much every piece of information we might ever want, literally at our fingertips. Just type your question into the computer, and BAM! There it is. The answer. Most diseases have been cured – although new ones keep cropping up. Those damned diseases. Won’t ever quit. Anyway, my point being, we’re well on our way to taming nature and conquering the universe.
But there’s one thing we’re still trying to figure out, and that is time. How the heck does it do that?! That thing. Slow and fast, slow fast, fast slow. When you want it to stand still, it becomes a sky rocket. When you want it to go ahead and hurry the bleep up, it becomes this syyyyyyyyyyrupy substance that barely moves.
Time is rushing like water.
That is, when it is in a rush. Which is most of the time. Rush, rush, rush… new directions, new challenges, new everything. You never see the same piece of time again. Never. It changes constantly, renewing itself, becoming something different. Time heals everything, they say. Well, that may be true. It’s just how the body heals itself. It just piles layers and layers of new cells on in place of the old, broken ones, and bam! You got a scab. And bam! You got a scar. And – maybe not bam, but eventually, maybe, scar’s gone, too. At least much less visible. With time.
Time is a strange creature.
A ball that bounces around with no apparent plan or direction. I pick it up in my hand to study it, to find out what it really looks like, must try and do something with it, then, all of a sudden it is gone like the spirit in Aladdin’s lamp; unnoticed it has vanished and run out between my fingers like sand in an hour glass.
Before, when time was just a round slice that trotted along, round and round in circles at a comfortable speed, there was no problem. But then the railroad was invented and the trains had to be on time. We had to start keeping track of time. Connections and communications were developed. Time was synchronized all over the world. Then we got digital watches. And that’s when time really got in a rush.
Ever watched a stopwatch count time? All those tenths and hundredths racing, galloping, flying ahead, crumbling away at time. Nothing left behind. A burning fuse being eaten away. And then came the nano-seconds. Computerized time tracking, because we had now broken time up into such small pieces that the human brain could no longer relate to it (just read Alvin Toffler’s Time Wars described in the Antioch Group - recommended.) No wonder we get stressed out!
Time to slow down.
People have never had as much spare time as in our time. And never have people complained as much about lack of time. But we need not forget that the same industry that provides us with all our “time saving” gadgets, also gives us plenty of stuff to waste our “saved” minutes and hours on. What would we do without TV or videogames, for crying out loud! Old people probably wonder why young ones always seem so stressed when they have their entire lives ahead of them to do whatever it is that they need to do. Truth of the matter is, they are the ones with a reason to stress out, with so little time left. But then, again, they were born of a different time.
Time to be. On time.
Which I rarely am, even though I always try to be. Why is it so difficult for me to be on time?! I think it has something to do with always trying to cram too much stuff into my time space. You know, that room of time we all have at our disposal. “I don’t have time,” we say. But that’s definitely a lie. If there’s one thing that is absolutely evenly divided between every human being, it is time. Rich or poor, high or low – we all have that same size room of time to furnish as we wish. Our problem is always trying to fit too much furniture in without thinking of leaving enough living space.
Enjoy the time you have. Be. Measure out some time to live.
It’s about time.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Miracle-Gambling and the Cult of Quick-Fix Christianity
Why is it that some Christians are so obsessed with miracles? Jesus did say that certain "signs" and "wonders" should follow those who believe - yet it sure seems these days, too many believers follow these so-called miracles and not the other way around. The Benny Hinns of the world seem to thrive on the expectation in their followers that something miraculous will happen and in an instant fix all their ailments - often caused by decades of poor diet and unhealthy lifestyles.
People speculate in financial miracles, too. They spend years mismanaging their money, all the while praying for a miracle to wipe out their debt and fix their problems. The problem, however, is plain and simple irresponsibility.
When a relative or friend finally steps in and bails them out, they chuck it up to a “miracle” – “God” came through in a powerful way.
Sure, I believe God is full of grace and we all could use a second chance from time to time - hey, we're all human, so we're going to screw up now and then.
But waiting around for a miracle instead of doing your part to fix your own situation - or better yet - listening to those around you who warned you not to make the stupid decisions that got you into the mess in the first place - is the ultimate form of laziness.
Always wanting God to come through with a quick-fix solution is nothing other than a gambling habit.
Put your coin in the slot machine and expect a big win in return!
Christians seem especially prone to be caught in pyramid schemes and multi-level marketing ploys that promise quick profits with minimal effort. Always the sucker for a quick fix, they pay the required fees and setup charges, all the while feeding their “sponsors.”
The next step is pestering those in their own circle of friends and relatives, to the point of alienating them all – if they weren’t already alienated by these people’s constant expectancy that someone else (read: “God” in the form of the people in their lives) will pay off their debts, pick up when they crash, and basically take care of them since they refuse to do so themselves.
Don’t get me wrong. I believe in miracles. I believe that in rare and extreme circumstances, God chooses to break his own natural laws and overstep nature – make something supernatural happen. But mostly, he trusts us to play by the rules he established - to sow and reap, work with our hands, and to use our God-given brains to develop medicine, make money, and create a future for ourselves and our offspring.
How about putting your money on that horse.
People speculate in financial miracles, too. They spend years mismanaging their money, all the while praying for a miracle to wipe out their debt and fix their problems. The problem, however, is plain and simple irresponsibility.
When a relative or friend finally steps in and bails them out, they chuck it up to a “miracle” – “God” came through in a powerful way.
Sure, I believe God is full of grace and we all could use a second chance from time to time - hey, we're all human, so we're going to screw up now and then.
But waiting around for a miracle instead of doing your part to fix your own situation - or better yet - listening to those around you who warned you not to make the stupid decisions that got you into the mess in the first place - is the ultimate form of laziness.
Always wanting God to come through with a quick-fix solution is nothing other than a gambling habit.
Put your coin in the slot machine and expect a big win in return!
Christians seem especially prone to be caught in pyramid schemes and multi-level marketing ploys that promise quick profits with minimal effort. Always the sucker for a quick fix, they pay the required fees and setup charges, all the while feeding their “sponsors.”
The next step is pestering those in their own circle of friends and relatives, to the point of alienating them all – if they weren’t already alienated by these people’s constant expectancy that someone else (read: “God” in the form of the people in their lives) will pay off their debts, pick up when they crash, and basically take care of them since they refuse to do so themselves.
Don’t get me wrong. I believe in miracles. I believe that in rare and extreme circumstances, God chooses to break his own natural laws and overstep nature – make something supernatural happen. But mostly, he trusts us to play by the rules he established - to sow and reap, work with our hands, and to use our God-given brains to develop medicine, make money, and create a future for ourselves and our offspring.
How about putting your money on that horse.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Marriage
Been married 7 years today to a wonderfully complex, highly creative and deeply feeling person, a man I love more today than the day I met him, a man I respect and admire more the longer I live life with him. Who ever said marriage is easy? It isn't. But when you're with the right person, and you look at your relationship as something of value to be constantly maintained and developed, and you put in the time and effort it takes to make it work, the rewards are undeniable. I love you deeply and truly, my One and Only Love.
Scribbles
I am going to attempt to scribble some legible thoughts and random musings... As I'm not the most consistent person in the world when it comes to following through on personal projects and ideas, bear with me if my postings end up being infrequent and scattered. It'll be an experiment. Hear hear. What?
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