So I've been having some conversations with some of the guys in the college group I lead about why I go the church I do. The senior pastor summarizes rather than preaches and I've found out likes to 'protect the pulpit' (whatever that means). The music at my church is lackluster and disappointing, with it rarely drawing me closer to God.
But the church as a whole has great ministries. And now that I've been there for almost three years, I have deep friendships and relationships with the people there. So even though I've been honest enough to say all this to the some of the guys in my group, I also mention the good of the church. I'm trying to figure out if this is helping or harmful for these guys, who may not have gotten out as much as they could have.
This also made me wonder if there could ever be a church that hasn't whored itself out to being 'contemporary' and sacrificed good preaching that I could go to. And if there is such a church nearby me, could, should or would I pull out the roots I've built in my current church to go there?
While searching through some boxes of old stuff, I came across a little pocket book I bought a while ago as an employee of a Christian bookstore: "My Jesus Pocketbook of Nursery Rhymes". They're all kitchy, hilarious and appalling all at the same time. The illustrations are blatantly racist, as well. Here's some of the 'better' ones:
Jack be loving, Jack be kind. Let your love for Jesus shine.
Mary had a little lamb, whose name I'm sure you know. And everywhere that Jesus went, His love was sure to flow.
Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet, Eating her curds and whey. She's afraid of a spider, She needs Jesus inside her To take all her fear away.
Tom, Tom, the piper's son, Stole a pig and away he run. When you steal, and think you're neat, Jesus knows and you can't cheat.
Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town, Upstairs and downstairs in his night gown; Peeping in the window: What does he see? The children don't have time for Jesus; They're watching TV.
The Homeschool Co-op that I teach at organized a mock
presidential election this week. All those in the co-op meet Thursdays for all
the classes that their parents can’t teach them. Colorful signs and a mass
email sent out the day before the election helped to get the vote out for the
150 or so students and 15 teachers.
Two ballot boxes were placed in the study hall, one for
students and another for adults. Having let apathy get the better of me in the
real election by failing to register to vote in the state of Texas,
I felt a strong need to not miss this vote.
The votes were counted during my charge of the study hall by
a girl in the writing class I help teach. In that class, the students and
myself joked about how people would vote, namely that there might be only one
or two students who would vote Democrat. I had the pleasure to sit next to the
girl in study hall as she counted the votes. I snuck a peak at the tally sheet
and saw the predictable results: ‘O’ got one vote and ‘M’ got all the remaining
votes.
But I watched closely to see if the student counting the
votes saw one ballot where an adult had written in a candidate. The candidate
whose name was written in was written down on the tally sheet but had been
crossed out with a black pen.
I asked the tallying girl if she caught the ballot with the
write-in candidate. She said yes and then smiled. I saw that Ron Paul’s name
was placed in the student section of the tallies. I mentioned that this
scribbled out name should have been placed in the adult column of the tallies
rather than the student section.
The ballot counter smiled and laughed. “I wondered who did
that.” I asked her if that ballot would be counted. She just smiled and sealed
the ballots in a manila envelope.
I worked at a camp this past weekend and enjoyed some pretty awkward moments.
During Saturday afternoon, I raised and lowered ladders to help all shapes and sized of people down from a zip line. A young mom in her 20s rode the line down but her pants began to slip down a bit, revealing a little too much to all the onlookers. While her pants were going south, she said, "I knew I shouldn't have worn these jeans." I didn't know what to say when I raised the ladder and unhooked her from the line. So I didn't say much because I would be scooping this woman's mashed potatoes at dinner time.
While serving dinner, an emboldened middle-aged woman asked if any of my group were loud and had good personalities. Knowing how great a personality I had, I went outside with two of my college guys where we learned we were going to serve ice cream, light candles on a cake and sing Happy Birthday to a 19-year who was with a larger group of middle-aged and senior women. I thought I'd be funny and say the girl's full name (three first names, some hyphenated) which was spelled out on the cake.
Then the woman who asked us guys out to their table said, "Oh, you've got to get your picture with the birthday girl. (B-Day girl's name) go stand up there with those handsome young men." And then multiple women started taking pictures. And then the birthday girl switched spots between us guys. And more pictures.
So I got a new pair of running shoes and all seems right with the world again. I ran today and nothing hurts.
I got a six pack of Famoso, a great bear from Guatemala I first found at a random, corner liquor store in Chicago. A high-end grocery store here in Dallas began carrying it a month ago. This made my day because this beer brings back very nice memories of my time in Chicago. It's also one of the smoothest beers I've had.
I found gas for $2.79 today. I put in $25 and this nearly filled my tank up. I chuckled when the guy at the register talked just like an auctioneer. "$25atnumber23ThankyouDoyouneedareceiptHaveagoodday."
I had a new perspective on depression while running today. It came from a book excerpt on migraines by Joan Didion I read for the class I help teach. In the essay she is almost thankful for the migraines because after the paralyzing pain of a migraine, her mind clears up and becomes seriously focused. I thought depression, after it sets in, can force a person to reevaluate all that is going on in order to correct oneself. Anyone else see the similarity?
After I woke up from my three-year existential dream, there
were so many more things I needed to re-evaluate. Did I really need to be as
committed to this small group? Should I keep fighting to pursue this career
path even though it may have been so closely linked to the daydream I’ve just
woken up from? Should I continue with anything that is associated with the life
I created during my escape from reality? Is it time for another cross-country
move to ‘start over’ and see what wonderful things God has in store for me? Or
should I not jump to such dramatic and polarizing conclusions and see how the
path God put in front of me plays out?
A growing entity that built itself up during the last three
years was an online magazine which gave me a vast canvass to paint on. Besides
being the gatekeeper and decider of truth in the world of The Brew, I got to
explore and create my way through whatever was going on at the time by way of
essay. I began by railing against boring people but then backed off on writing
as frequently when I discovered how boring my own writing became.
Creating a forum that has gained a quality following is very
affirming, though it still carries with it all the insecurities of revealing
your personality, sensibilities and assertions to the rest of the world. I’ve
found the niche and know the audience who reads The Brew but the reactions to
what is posted there are always unpredictable.
A similarly unpredictable position to be in is that of being
responsible for a college group at my church. What started out as
fellowshipping with the people closest to my age incrementally turned into a
reawakening of limbs which had lost some feeling. I began by fielding questions
like “Are you in seminary?” and “Which college do you go to around here?” but
eventually started answering “Should I break up with my girlfriend?” and “Why
should I read Henri Nouwen?”
A college ministry and regular attendance by 20somethings were
relatively new to my church, which translates to nearly unfettered creation. I
was able to do lessons on Kierkegaard and watch films which might normally be
shunned in most churches because of their content. I also planned events that
could exasperate and scare the college students who might not have experienced
much of the world around them.
It’s easy to hold on to a sense of accomplishment when one
looks back on the most recent events, especially when those happenings have the
ability to put you or the mysterious plan God has for you in the spotlight.
Like the screenwriter or the executive producer of a blockbuster or, more
ideally a successful indie film, you can look at the shining finished product
of what you spent so many months on and just beam.
Yet the bright lights of positive attention were slightly
dimmed by my need to re-evaluate all that my hands had made. The negative side
effects of my created reality pushed me to wonder whether these two creations should
continue to be fought for and expanded. If I was operating inside a false
reality during this time, can the subsequent creations be veritable or valid?
I could comfort myself with some pietistic comments like
‘All truth is God’s truth’ or ‘Any creation reflects the Creator’ but I’d be
cheating myself if I accepted such easy answers. Or at least accept them too quickly.
So I put my evangelical mind to work to amalgamate my theology, my spirituality
and my creative ideals to come up with an answer that attempts to satisfy all
of these.
And what I come up with is an idea that would demonize
looking back in repentance about sins of omission or cut short mourning over
all the possibilities that didn’t happen. It is an idea that looks with favor
upon the path that I took and all that was created by taking it. It is an idea
that provides perspective on growth, failings and the creative process that God
has in mind for our maturity.
And now that I’m attempting to spell this idea out, I’m wary
of doing so for fear that seeing it in print would cheapen it. So I’ll stop
here.
