The Unlikely Disciple

The Unlikely Disciple by Kevin Roose. If you have the funds and the time, I recommend it. And really, it doesn't take that much time to read- I just swallowed it whole for my evangelicalism class in a total of maybe 5 hours. It's about a student from Brown University who transfers to Liberty University for his second semester freshman year in 2007. He was raised by non-religious Quaker parents, so definitely in the non-evangelical camp, but decided to spend a semester at Liberty to debunk some stereotypes, stuff like that.

It's been really interesting to read a book like this and to place it in the context of my class (The Evangelical Tradition: America and Beyond) and then to put my class into the context of my life. I never realized how weird it is to hear a professor talk about Jesus. Separation of church and state is so ingrained in me, I guess, that I almost flinched the first time my professor said Christ in class, like it was blasphemy or something. At the same time, it was super weird to read this book and see the two halves of myself staring back at me. Roose writes about all the good little Christian girls that go to Liberty and the prayer groups and the Bible studies and things like that and he also writes about the doubters and the rebels and his own struggles with loving the saint and hating the religion.

I never really took the time to reconcile the kid who could be a counselor at a Christian camp and the kid who can go to college and analytically study the Bible. I mean, they're not irreconcilable, it's not like I'm going to live in two halves the rest of my life, but it does take some thinking to take the devotion of the first, the prayer and the bible study and the wholeness and add it to the reason and skepticism of the second. Not that you're unreasonable if you're an evangelical. Ugh. See what I mean?

Anyway, one point I really wanted to take away from the book was Roose's comments on Jerry Falwell, who founded Liberty and was the chancellor until his death. The first impression I ever had of Jerry Falwell is one that Roose references many times (because everyone does)- he's the guy who made the 9/11 comments, saying it was God's punishment on America because of abortionists and gays. Not exactly what you want representing your faith. But, as Roose says,
"Over the course of the semester, as my thought about faith and people of faith became more nuanced, so did my opinion of Dr. Falwell. I could appreciate his love for his flock in large part because I had learned to love them myself. And at the beginning of the semester, when all I saw in Dr. Falwell was hatred, I may have been saying more about my own heart than his."

I think the last line is really important. It struck me. I'd put it in italics, but I think they're cheesy.

No matter which side of the aisle you're on in the Christian faith, I think you have a lot to learn from the Bible, either by reading its spirit or reading it in the Spirit. We need to work on mending the Church. I've never heard this passage applied to that kind of work, but I like it, for this and for general life application, so I leave you with Ecclesiastes 3: 9-14:

 What does the worker gain from his toil?  I have seen the burden God has laid on men.  He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.  I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil—this is the gift of God.  I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere him.

Of Blessings and Light Poles

So I was walking down Franklin Street this morning and I got stopped at the light waiting for the little walking man to appear. I decided to take a look around at my surroundings. The gum spots on Franklin Street and I have a pretty close relationship- I stare at them intently while I'm studiously avoiding looking anyone in the eye because I don't want that awkward eye contact and because it's much easier to avoid a conversation if you don't see the person that you should, in theory, have a conversation with. Much easier than ducking into a store to avoid talking to Washburn. If you've taken Mechanics, you know what I mean.

But as close as I am with the gum spots, I've never had the chance to notice the light pole on the corner, where the signs for Franklin and Columbia were dismantled that eventful April Sunday. The pole has some history. It's covered in staples interspersed with nails and spotted with a few pieces of paper that have been separated from the fliers that previously decorated the dark wood of the pole. Hundreds of people, maybe, have stuck their slogans on this former tree and left them there for the world to see. Stoically it stands, surveying the street and the sidewalk, never commenting on its abuse as it remains there, unwavering, a faithful spokesperson for anyone with a staple gun and a printer to the good people of Chapel Hill and the hordes of visitors to campus.

Sometimes I feel like the light pole. I feel like anything and everything tries to stick itself to me, tries to make me represent whatever it is that they're proclaiming to the world. All those fliers for church events and the programs for concerts and the schedules for things and the clubs and the organizations and the opinions and the books and the movies and the pictures and the ideas, all these things are just stapled onto me, covering me up, wrapping me like some gag gift of a person.

And why wouldn't they? I mean, let's face it, humility out the door, I'm not a bad spokesperson. In the grand scheme of things, I'm pretty much always someone you wouldn't mind representing your cause or your organization. I'm pretty middle class and with a little bit of work, I can look much better. I might not be the best looking kid on the block, but I'm not terribly ugly, and there's nothing that airbrushing won't fix these days. I go to a great university, I make good (read decent) grades, I smile, I'm responsible, I have a diverse interest in things, I'm knowledgeable and I'm nice to talk to most days. I come from a pretty good place in society. My life has been wonderful and it's easy to see the ways I've been blessed. I'm pretty much a walking testimony of what God can do when He's feeling generous. Or, for those of you who don't really go for the whole deity aspect of things, I'm a product of what middle class suburbia and a couple of strokes of wonderful luck can do for a person. I have some prospects. I can be successful. Parents wouldn't mind it if their kids grew up to be me and that's just on potential. I can fit in in most groups and levels of society and even though I feel like an awkward bridge on the inside most times, I'm OK on the outside. So plaster your signs away. I'll be happy to carry your logos for you.

But see, that's the problem, I think. I have so much. No matter how much I highlight what I don't have in my mind, no matter how many nights I spend thinking about how much I wish for things in life to start happening to me again, I know that I have been uniquely blessed and looked after. I know that there is a future in my life and that everything, good and bad, will make me into a better person if I use it the right way. I can explain away my tiny little pains with elaborate dogmatic turns because life has been good to me and I try to ignore the thoughts of what I'll become when life isn't so good to me anymore. I can smile because God has always provided for me and when I chance it, I can see His hand in my life.

And why is that a problem? you may ask. The problem comes not in what I have, but in what others don't have. What makes me so special that I deserve these wonderful things? What's so great about me that I can have these wonderful people in my life to encourage me and make me better, to be my friends and help me see the world? Why should the money always be there for me? Why should it always work for the best for me? Why am I the one reading about the floods and the fires and the violence? I can tell you right now that I'm not any better than those people, people whose situation is so different from mine. They are still beautiful human beings and they deserve as much as I have, even more. So why am I so blessed? And why can't they be too?

No, this is a really big issue for me. Like, maybe they're blessed in different ways, like blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of God kind of blessed. Or maybe they're really blessed through their trials and they're better and stronger people. Maybe they'll be given wisdom and courage so they can help someone else who's going through the same thing. You know, maybe they'll have a testimony about it. And anyway, it's all going to even out in the end, you know, the rough places will be made plain and every valley shall be exalted for the mouth of the LORD hath spoken it. And when all of those explanations don't seem good enough anymore, when I don't want to just trust that it's going to be fair one day, that grace is going to pour down on everyone, not just the ridiculously blessed, when I actually want to go make it fair, what then? Because I despair when I think about this.This haunts me when I let myself think about it. Do you trust that the kingdom's going to come or do you bring the kingdom to you? And if you bring the kingdom to you, why don't we do it more? Why is the kingdom so perpetually far away when we've had 2,000 years of history to bring it here, to the people who really need it?

Why are all the posters on Franklin Street? It's not like the light pole is going to go spread Your words to the people who need to hear it most.

But then, maybe it should.

Gravity: A Comparison

Listen, for me, faith right now is like Newtonian gravity and general relativity. I've learned the version everyone learns, I know what you're going to say and I know it's applicable in most circumstances. But I also know there are small things that don't work with that basic understanding that can be brushed away, and bigger things that are denied existence because that simpler version, which works admirably most of the time and fits into simple lessons, just can't explain it.

But the whole time I'm sitting here listening to you, and I'm frustrated because I know there's something bigger that people aren't telling me and I know that the simple version isn't working anymore. It's profound, yes, and it can get you places. But there's something deeper, something richer, something harder to understand, something more elegant, something more real that I'm just not being taught. I want that depth, not to wave it around in your face and pretend like I'm smarter than you, but because I want to understand everything. Maybe you don't need to, maybe this desire isn't pent up in your heart the way it is in mine, but I can't be satisfied with anything less. And it can help people, I know it can.

So please don't be offended if I only smile tight-lipped at your help. I know what you've said. And it's helpful, I swear. It's just not helpful enough anymore. And I'm sorry for that.

First

So I am eternally jealous of people who make connections with other people. I watch other people care about each other and I wonder why that's never me. One of my friends was talking about her insecurities and she said, "I wonder why I'm never the first in anyone's life." It was so perfectly me that I had to say it again.

I hate being made a liar even more than I hate being a liar. I went over to camp on Monday and helped out with the swim test (and swam more than I have in a year, darn you, UNC pools) and ran away to work. I went to camp on Tuesday and helped out at the pool and ran away to class. Just as I was leaving, one of my campers from two years ago came over and said, "Where are you going? I only came over here because you were here." I laughed it off and said, "Well, I'll be here tomorrow, so you can come over here tomorrow."

I wasn't there tomorrow.

My older brother came back from China on Thursday. He made it back to North Carolina on Friday. I spent Wednesday cleaning out his room in the basement, discovering a new telescope (yes!), and inhaling loads and loads of dust. And making friends with spiders. I'm going soft in my old age- I almost felt bad tearing down their homes and shooing them out of the basement. So I didn't go to camp on Wednesday. I didn't go to camp on Thursday. I'm trying to decide what I actually did this week. I worked. I threw ice cream. I made tips. I deck brushed that entire backroom floor and my shoulder still hurts. I wallowed in self-pity, I think.

I went to camp on Friday. Friday mornings are the opposite of Sunday mornings, in my book. They're the last chance I have to see these wonderful people who have come into my life and the day that I have to decide whether they get to come into mine. Other counselors would give away their phone numbers and their addresses. It took me four years to give away my address and my phone number, and even then, it was to the kids who I trusted enough, the ones I wanted to know outside of the five days a year I saw them. So I guess the reason I'm not first in anyone's life is because no one's first in mine.

I really came on Friday morning to see this one camper again. It's her last year and she wants to go to UNC and she smiled and hugged me when I showed up at lunch on Monday and she was one of the hardest campers I ever had to deal with, which makes her one of the best. She left and I hugged her goodbye and that was that. And then she friended me on Facebook and that makes me smile immensely.

But I was watching a group of kids after everyone else had gotten picked up and while the staff was having their meeting. I really wanted to sit in on the meeting, to tell the counselors that morning devotions really do help, because you're putting something in at the beginning of the day. I mean, I love to sleep and even I would recommend that half an hour. And I recommend sleeping and praying and talking with your campers, getting to know them, loving them, caring for them, working with them because that's what you're here for. I wanted to share four summers' worth of rather hard-won wisdom. I watched kids instead, so I guess I was really meant to learn instead of teach on Friday.

Israel has been coming to camp for four summers. I remember him. He can do awesome flips on the trampoline, I found out, but he alternates between wanting you to love him and shutting off. For instance, I did a flip on the trampoline (OK, it's half a flip, I land on my butt, but it's the best I can do) and while the girls were trying to reenact the weird sideways twist I did (darn bulging disk), Israel said, over and over again, "No, that was tight. That was awesome." Here's this kid who gets big and tries to push everyone around the second anyone even thinks of making less of him, and he's complimenting my pathetic little flip. These are the best kids, you know that? They are wonderful, I don't care what you say. They will never be high risk as long as there's someone there to love them like they deserve to be loved. But you will label them and you will talk about them in the staff room and you will pass them on the street and shake your head. Are they first in anyone's life? Because that top place is sitting there open in theirs. Someone has to love them.

One of my campers called me today. My freshman year of high school (I swear, five and half years is penance enough) two guys called me, within half an hour of each other, to ask me out. The first one said that he loved me and I think I laughed. Hopefully internally. You don't love someone when you're a freshman in high school. I've since convinced myself that you don't love someone when you're a freshman in college either. I told him that I must be first in a long list of girls and I said something else. First in a list. So that ended that one. The next one called me and i said that I couldn't go out with him because I was in love with someone else. And you know, I think I was, but that is a long long story, but that ended that call. And ever since, I always tend to wonder where I am on someone's list when they're calling to ask for something.

I didn't wonder when Hannah called because it doesn't matter. I'm in her life, no matter how failingly,and all I want to do is help. She told me to pray because her cousin, she's been praying, and she feels like He's not listening. I mean, what do you tell someone who says that God's not listening? "Oh, what a coincidence, He's not listening to me either"? "Oh, you just need to pray harder"? I will never say that. "You just gotta have faith." I wish they didn't sound so empty. It was weird, the second I hung up, I prayed. And I had no clue what to pray for and I had no clue if it's going to work or what it's going to do, but these words came to me and I said them to the great powers in the sky. And why on earth would God listen to me? There are so many more qualified, more faithful people for Him to listen to, better people who are honest and true and less stubborn and obedient and unquestioning. There are people who don't have reasons to list for why God shouldn't listen to them. Why should He listen to me?

Because He loves me. And you. Everyone. And in some cases, it's this love that would be pathetic coming from anyone else, because it's never going to be returned. They don't even know He exists. Some people get confused, some don't care, some don't need it, some don't want it, some have somebody else. Some love Him, some don't and that's your business. Mine is to be amazed. Amazed, because, no matter what happens, He listens. You and I and six billion other people break His heart daily and He listens and He loves and He never lets go. That doesn't have to change your world and I'll never understand why it doesn't change His, but it stops mine from spinning.

Great thing is, He doesn't want to be first. He only wants to be everything.

Wikiquote Is Awesome

My brother comes back from China and brings me Firefly. Love this show. It's cowboys+space=awesomeness. Anyways. There's this girl who's been experimented on by the government, so she's a little out of it, but she's a genius and her name is River. The preachers in this little made up world are called Shepherds. It's always interesting, profundity in sci-fi shows.

[Shepherd Book prepares a meal as he absentmindedly addresses River.]

Book:: What are we up to, sweetheart?

River: Fixing your Bible.

Book: I, um... What?

[Pan over to River, who works on a book with pens, brushes, and loose pages.]

River: Bible's broken. Contradictions, false logistics... doesn't make sense.

Book: No, no. You—you can't...

River: So we'll integrate non-progressional evolution theory with God's creation of Eden. Eleven inherent metaphoric parallels already there. Eleven. Important number. Prime number. One goes into the house of eleven eleven times, but always comes out one. Noah's ark is a problem.

Book: Really?

River: We'll have to call it "early quantum state phenomenon". Only way to fit 5,000 species of mammals on the same boat.. . .

Book: River, you don't... fix the Bible.

River: It's broken. It doesn't make sense.

Book: It's not about... making sense. It's about believing in something. And letting that belief be real enough to change your life. It's about faith. You don't fix faith, River. It fixes you.

Shoes (Or, Sometimes I Think God Cheats)

So Saturday morning me and two of my awesome friends decided to watch the sunrise in the mountains and spend the rest of the day in silent meditation. Yup, that's what I said. Silent meditation. Well, we got to watch the sunrise  (great story- pictures soon?) and we did have a good morning of silence, which deserves its own blog post. After one friend almost rolled down the mountain and suffered a severe flesh wound or two, we called off the silence, ate lunch and shopped before returning home. I came back to homework and another long, long story and didn't sleep until late, which was not cool because, as you all know, the sun rises rather early and Blowing Rock isn't particularly close to Hickory and friends make four hours of sleep dwindle down to three at best. Totally worth the lack of sleep, but I paid for it last night going into this morning.

I had to work at Cold Stone today (note the video of the Cinnamon Challenge on BookFace- it might really be the best thing I've done while working at that store; that and the fact that I caught and ice cream and threw and ice cream and didn't fail [!] today) so I was driving myself to church, which means not waking up at 7:30 to leave at 8... 15 to go with my mother but rather that I could leave whenever I wanted to. I could leave at 9:45, like I intended, to be at church in time for Sunday School, or I could leave at 10:15, like my second plan was, to be able to be down at church in time to learn the anthem to sing in the choir, or I could leave, last ditch effort, at 10:45 and be at church in time for the 11 o'clock service. Sleep is powerful. I left around 10:52, wearing my new purchase and a pair of brown flip flops that I picked out specifically to wear to church.

Ironic, you might say, if you knew me, because then you would know that I don't wear shoes at church. The story behind the lack of shoes in my church life is this: I live in the choir loft. One of the top ten weirdest feelings in my world is when I sit out in the congregation at my home church. I mostly sit back and think, "Oh! So that's what the choir loft looks like from the other side. Huh." So, naturally, I adapted to life in the choir loft. Most of my church shoes in high school were heel-ish things that made little clonking noises when I walked. I spent a lot of time walking from where the brass players sat up two rows to where I stood to sing. It is not, in my opinion, good manners to be clonking all over the place during prayers or when a pastor is talking, so I'd take off my shoes in the choir loft so I could pretend to be a ninja... in a white, flowy yet constricting choir robe... when I walked from place to place. One Christmas-y service, I'm sitting with my french horn in my lap and there's an awkward pause in the service. It's a service of lessons and carols and the awkward pause is not because we're supposed to be singing a carol, because I have a list in front of me and I'm playing on the next one so we are definitely not starting it yet. So Ron looks down and hands me a piece of paper and says, "Will you read this?" and I take it and say sure and he says, "Now?" The reader for the lesson had mixed up the service times and wasn't there to read the lesson. So, in my choir robe and without shoes, I walked up to the pulpit and read the lesson and walked back and played my french horn. Apparently feet are very visible in that space in between the choir loft and the pulpit. And so a legend was born.

I brought my shoes to wear to sit in the congregation this morning because everyone else in the congregation would have them on and I'd be walking in late and blah blah blah. I left them in the car. Explanation? None. I then snuck into the service late and realized it was a communion service, but (tragic organ chord) it was too late. I became engrossed in the hymn and the sermon and then it's too late to retrieve the shoes because it's communion time. It was the offering that did it- they moved the offering up before everything and I got confused and then I was stuck in the service. So I walked up to get communion barefoot, which isn't that bad- people don't point out your feet if you look up and act like you've got shoes on like everyone else- and I make it back to my seat without criticism. I dunno why I'm always nervous about being barefoot in the congregation. I guess I think they know what's up in the world of propriety and that the choir members love me enough to ignore it, but I'm always iffy about the congregation.

I intended to sneak out of the service as well, because, due to my oversleep and then that long story that kept me up later than was necessary, I wasn't in a super talkative mood. We have a new associate pastor and she was at the back shaking hands on the way out. I felt bad, because I got out of wearing a name tag because I was late. Well, no, I didn't feel bad because I got out of wearing a name tag- I hate those. I felt bad because now the new associate pastor won't know my name. But I smile and she shakes my hand and then points to my feet and says, "Barefoot. That's the best way to go to church. I used to go barefoot all the time until my mother yelled at me from the choir to put my shoes on." And I smile and say something like "Sweet!" or "Awesome!" or "Good call!" because those are my approving exclamations and walk away to the nursery to say hey to my mother (who stopped fighting the where-are-your-shoes battle long ago [PS she doesn't wear them either]) and then abscond some animal crackers before speeding away to my current place of employment.

See, but the point is, the new associate pastor will now know me as The Girl Without Shoes. I fully intend to take advantage of this. She doesn't think I'm going to be a teacher, so I'm not going to leave a conversation with her convinced I'm going to be a teacher. She doesn't think I'm going to be a pastor, so I'm less likely than usual to leave a conversation with her thinking I'm going to be a pastor. She doesn't read what I write, so she won't make me feel like I could really do this writing thing. She hasn't known me since high school, so she has no preconceptions about astrophysics (PPS- I bought a particle physics book and am super excited about it! Because me and physics is like that Jackson 5 song- "When I had you to myself, I didn't want you around..."). She doesn't know that I'm going to be a senior in the fall, that I really need to get on this decision-making thing, no matter how much I want to ignore it. She doesn't know that her comment and the sky tonight have swayed me back in one direction. She just knows that I appreciate bare feet on holy ground.

I think she knows the most important thing about me.

Quotes

I'm practicing for my day of silent meditation on Saturday which I am surprisingly pumped for. I know you're probably waiting for words that are from me and not from anybody else, but as I just realized, every other word of mine currently is the word awesome, so I clearly need a break to stop the chaos. But. Quotations abound in my life and a friend of a friend of mine (Ah Facebook!) had several wonderful quotes that I figured I'd share. And, since I'm revamping my quote section of that book of faces (hahah did anyone see that episode of The Office where Jim wrote book on his face and Darryl didn't get it so he said, "Yes, I am popular social networking site, known as BookFace"? ... And that's why I suck at telling jokes) I'm going to put mine on here as well, with the open invitation for anyone to share other awesome ones. The end. Well, except not really. But you know what I mean. And cut.

________________________________________________

“I love UNC. I love the quad in the spring and the arboretum in the fall. I love the Pit on a sunny day and Graham Memorial Lounge on a rainy one. I love Roy [Williams] all the time. But what makes UNC truly special is not our beautiful campus, our distinguished reputation or even our basketball team. It’s us—the student body—who make UNC what it is.”
- Eve Carson

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
-Marianne Williamson

I believe in Christianity as i believe that the sun has risen, not because i see, but by it I see everything else. - C.S. Lewis

Don't be wishing you were somplace else or with someone else. Where you are right now is God's place for you, live and love and obey and believe right there. - 1 Corinthians 7:17

“No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be true.
-scarlet letter


“There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.” -Einstein

“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes up short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly …”
Theodore Roosevelt
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Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments,
and his paths beyond tracing out!
Romans 11:33

And this life sentence that I'm serving,
I admit that I'm every bit deserving
But the beauty of Grace
Is that it makes life not fair.
-Relient K

Everybody has a secret world inside of them. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside. They've all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands maybe.
-Neil Gaiman

In essentials we have unity, in nonessentials liberty and in all things we have charity (love).
-John Wesley

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit around it and pluck blackberries.
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning

George: I don’t think I’m supposed to be doing this.
Rube: Well, if somebody else were supposed to be doing this, I’d be sitting here talking to somebody else.
George: But I don’t know anything. About anything!
Rube: You think I know anything? When I’m supposed to know something, I’ll know it. When you’re supposed to know something, you’ll know it. Be patient, you’re learning. Just smell some roses already.
-Dead Like Me

Maybe it's easier to like someone else's life, and live vicariously through it, than take some responsibility to change our lives into lives we might like.-Tish Grier

A phrase of great power, and wisdom, and consolation to the soul in times of need. Allons-y! -the Tenth Doctor

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.
-Moulin Rouge!

When life gives you lemons, make grape juice and let the world wonder how you did it.

When life kicks you, let it kick you forward.
-Kay Yow (1942-2009)

Me: I think my Prince Charming fell off a cliff, so I'm not expecting much.
Nick: Eh... you've still got one... he's just slightly
deformed

Come on, we're gonna take on the world today!
-Sarah Henson
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Nauseous

Did you know that most of us use the word nauseous wrong? Nauseous is actually an adjective. The word you should use when trying to say that you feel sick is nauseated. So, when an EMT asks you why you puked all over the ground, you can say that you felt nauseated. And then you can talk about how nauseous (having the quality of making someone nauseated) this distinction is. Hopefully the hypothetical EMT is sympathetic and not bad looking and that will make this a winning situation.

I learned this from someone who also was adamant that a lot was two words, not one as is common use in the world today. I made the comment that other things had changed over time and become acceptable as words in the English language simply because of their common use. Like Klingon. Or ain't. Which is in the dictionary. This person did not approve of this attitude toward grammar or language development; clearly, she was a prescriptive grammarian. In her eyes, things should not become acceptable over time.

Alot shouldn't be added in the dictionary, she said. It would be making something that was intrinsically wrong socially correct. It's like saying that one day homosexuality will be right, because it will have become socially acceptable.

At this point in time, my politeness and my wit failed me. She sat turned around backwards in the bus seat as we pulled into the church and smiled at me, like this was a point that clearly we all agreed on. I sat there for a few long seconds and then said, "Your reasoning is absolutely right."

It's a good thing God didn't write the dictionary. We'd have a whole lot more people unfairly banned from churches and ordination than we do today.

I Had the Theme Song for The Office in My Head While I Wrote This (and I can play it on the piano)

So today I went to the church to make copies of the lyrics for the songs for Crossflame tour (expect daily updates over tour- I'm going to hang out with the cool kids who stay up late and do bed checks at 12 [also, apparently I'm lame because I never left my room after the chaperons had gone to bed when I was on tour back in the day...] so I'm going to need something to keep me conscious after a full day of high school drama [so. bad. How did I stand myself when I was a high schooler? How does anyone stand kids who are in high school? Ugh] and other exciting times and I figure keeping up with my weblog is a choice way of doing that) which really entails at least an hour of standing at the copier in the church office and stapling.

My mom is the Childcare Coordinator at my church, so I know pretty much everyone in the office. They're some of my favorite people. I routinely lost everything from shoes to glasses when I was a kid, so I know exactly where the lost and found is and still check it every time I walk into the office. I know where the first aid kit is and I know where the janitor's closet is. In every building. I don't spend a lot of time in the Family Life Center where the kitchen and Fellowship hall are, or the youth building anymore. Really, I spend most of my time at church between the choir room, the sanctuary and the children's building and I normally just run in and out of the office. It was a little weird to just be chilling in there.

I printed up the 14 pages of lyrics and started copying them back to front. I was on page two, I think, when this guy came up with a paper in his hand and just kinda stood in front of the front desk. I smiled and went back to my copier (it was still on copy 27 of 50) and then walked over to the table where I was sorting the copies and picked up one of the books that was there waiting to be picked up for a bible study group. 23 copies later I picked up my original and asked if he needed the copier, since he was looking super expectant and rather impatient, and he said no, thanks. It was superbly civil. A page and a half later, he walked into the secretary's office and dropped off his resume for some position at the church. Darn copier lid. The only thing I heard was, "Are you still taking applications for [slam]?" Not helpful. And I probably could have just asked the secretary since she's probably the most awesome person ever, but I think I'll just do some detective work later.

Next exciting happenstance: One of the ladies in the church came up with the idea of sending handmade dolls to kids in Haiti after the earthquake. They just finished another batch and they're going down with a missionary group tomorrow, I think, so we had a blessing for them today. I was on page six when I got invited to go to the blessing which was being held in the sanctuary. So four of us and one of the pastors walk over to the sanctuary and there are the dolls, lined up on the steps to the chancel, right in front of the altar. They're mostly brown and black, but there's a red one, a yellow one, and, my personal favorite, a purple one with blonde hair. Best. Doll. Ever. There were also a couple with rainbow colored hair and a pair of twins, made by the pastor's wife, right on the front row. Our church likes giving away stuffed things for kids to play with- our youth director makes Build-A-Bears to give to kids in hospitals that we're taking on tour with us this next week. Spreading joy one snuggly face at a time. Or 79 at time. Whichever. So we blessed the dolls and prayed them a safe journey and I walked back over to the office.

One of the real chaperones for tour came in to get a form notarized and I failingly pitched my idea of getting reusable water bottles for the kids in choir so we could save the environment from the tons of plastic water bottles that we're going to drink over the next week (most of which aren't even going to be empty by the time they're thrown away... Chapel Hill has given me a recycling eye twitch). Hydration is important. So is having a planet for my epic and awesome grandkids. (I know they're going to be awesome. Hello. They're my grandkids) Anyway. I got all the pages copied and was working on stapling them together (maybe about 20 out of the 50) when Sunshine came in.

Thursday, and I always forget this, is Christian Aid day at the church. People bring in whatever they need help with and we see what we can do. I hate being the object of someone's generosity, but one day I'm going to grow a soul and I'm going to treat everyone like a normal person and not look at my feet when I walk down the hall past people who have the sense to ask for help when they need it. Anyway, Sunshine, who is a recently-hired waitress at IHOP (and now I can never tell my IHOP joke again... darn) is having some medical problems so she asked us to pray for her. One of our pastors was on his way out (annual conference is this weekend- party at Lake Junaluska! Goodness, I love my conference) but he stopped and pulled everyone in the office together in a circle to pray for Sunshine. She stayed and talked a little more with us after the prayer and said that her goal was to put some more positive back in the world, since there's so much negative out there. That is one of my problems. I can totally see the negative, but I never put any positive back in. So I'll be praying for Sunshine.

And Pastor Bill walked in to pick up something he had printed out earlier and his wife talked to the lady at the front desk while other conversations went on and I hummed the tunes to the lyrics I was looking at over and over again. It was a chill, sociable moment where I rehearsed again the back from college speech: "Oh, school's great, it's out for the semester!"; or "Yeah, it's nice to be home and take a break from classes. I'm a physics major, you know." "Oh, really? Wow." and small talk about physics; or "Yeah, I'm at Carolina. Oh, your son/daughter went there? Small world! I love it!" Those are the main variations. I avoid the "what are you going to do with that?" question like the plague. Free advice from one pastor: Go work for a while. Get out in the real world, see some things, do some things. You'll be better off for it. The plot thickens. And then people left to head out to the conference and I stopped humming because there wasn't anybody to cover up my voice.

I finished the copies and decided that the nicer thing to do would be to put them in the choir room because 1) we wouldn't leave them if I put them in an already packed crate and 2) I don't think they'd actually fit in the choir director's box in the office. So I borrowed keys (one of the goals of my life is make it so that the doors of a church don't have to be locked. Really? It's a church. Are you trying to keep Jesus out or in? I'm thinking locked cabinets for sound/ AV equipment and a locked closet for musical things that don't need to be stolen. Like pastor's offices and the sacristy, OK, sure, lock that mess up when no one's around, but I think we'd be OK if someone stole a pew bible. Geeze. *looks guilty but feels much better*) and I walked over to the choir room. Two cool points for Ron- he already has the sheet music packed up. So I put the lyrics in the sheet music crate and decided to cut back through the sanctuary to return the keys and get back to my bag.

Now, the sanctuary we have now is not the old sanctuary, it's the new sanctuary. The old sanctuary had the ugliest green carpet you've seen in your life, no middle aisle and these awesome stained glass windows. I loved it. I'm getting to love the new one, but I honestly probably liked it better when it was under construction and me and my little brother could go play around in it when we were supposed to be in big church... oops. Anyway, the new sanctuary is super super tall, with this ginormous cross up behind the choir back behind the chancel and this large dove stained glass window up above the balcony that only the choir and the pastors get to see on a Sunday morning. Why do you think I'm in the choir? Lord knows I can't sing and they don't need a flute/french horn player every Sunday.

I walked around the chancel and came to the first pew and leaned up against the little wall we have between the congregation and the rest of the church and looked up at the ginormous cross. Now, some people see God in nature, some in the stars, some in the faces of other people. I see God in buildings. Corners of buildings, actually. High corners of buildings, so I love me some cathedrals. I can't explain it, I don't know why, so don't ask me. It's not like God isn't in the other things, it's just that if you asked me what God looked like, I wouldn't say a sunset, I would say the ceiling of the cathedral in Dunblane. Anyway, me and God haven't been particularly tight because all I can ever think to pray about is what I'm going to do with my life and that's a touchy subject, so I really just end up walking away angrily. So I'm looking up at the cross and I notice that there's this little gap of white wall between where the brown behind the cross starts and the ceiling. I guess all that houses the pipes of the organ because the bigger, more impressive pipes are up by the cross and you can kinda see through it. They won't let me up there. Anyway, I found God and started talking about my future, but it quickly transitioned to Crossflame. I was pleasantly surprised.

And then it kinda hit me that the reason that I couldn't pray about anything other than my future is because I hadn't been caring enough about anything else to pray for it. Since November. It's amazing how God's got your back even when you're one of the bigger jerks in recent history. Sometimes, I don't think you need to pray for God's blessings, because He's already given it. Then sometimes I think that you should probably ask anyway.

And it's kinda crazy how the things that are driving you insane are the things that stop you from being insane. It's going to be a great tour.

Lord, remember not only the men of good will, but also those of ill will. But do not remember all the suffering they have inflicted upon us. Remember rather the fruits we have brought, thanks to this suffering: our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility, the courage, the generosity, the greatness of heart that has grown out of this. And when they come to judgment, let all the fruits we have bourne be their forgiveness.

—found on a scrap of wrapping paper
at the liberation of Ravensbruck Concentration Camp

This Is My Father's World

I have friends who classify other friends of my with a single adjective on the front of their name, like, say, "Happy Pam". Well, I'd call this "Happy Hymn." We sang it this morning and it makes my heart happy, so I figured I'd share it with you.

This is my Father's world,
and to my listening ears
all nature sings, and round me rings
the music of the spheres.
This is my Father's world:
I rest me in the thought
of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;
his hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father's world,
the birds their carols raise,
the morning light, the lily white,
declare their maker's praise.
This is my Father's world:
he shines in all that's fair;
in the rustling grass I hear him pass;
he speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father's world.
O let me ne'er forget
that though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father's world:
why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King; let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let the earth be glad!

-Maltbie D. Babcock

Missing Meteors

It's funny how easily conversation in college turns to what you're going to do. I'm going to fail this exam. This summer, I'm going to New York, on a mission trip, to work, to save, to party, to sleep, to visit grad schools. Next year, I'm going to apply to grad schools, to have an easy semester, to have a terrible semester, to do better, to focus more on my studies, to audition, to not audition, to study abroad, to stay in Chapel Hill, to be a leader, to be a follower. After college, I'm going to get married (!), go to med school, grad school, law school, to teach, to be unemployed, to move back in with my parents, to take a year off. To do what?

Now, this isn't a post about doing something now, though it is another tragedy of our time that so much potential is locked away in institutions and dowsed with alcohol while the world outside suffers and we learn how to think, make mistakes, describe the Hydrogen atom mathematically, start a business, get inside people's heads, understand the meaning of the actions of various Romans over the course of the Republic and Empire. It's a wonderful mixed bag that you get in college, but for a good example of someone rightly fed up with the negatives of this bag and willing to be something different, I recommend the words of this friend. For the wonderful and blessing thoughts of a good friend doing what she has been called to do, prayerfully, lovingly and in full remembrance of the awesomeness of God, I recommend her words.

I had a good conversation with a friend about what I wanted to do. It came out of talking about classes and, in particular, my teaching class. Guys, I don't want to teach physics. I could go the whole "I hate kids" route, but that would be another lie. I go the "I hate high school route" but that wouldn't be any more true. I don't have an aversion to teaching and I'd love having my own classroom, but it would be my classroom. It wouldn't belong to the kids and I wouldn't be focused on the people I was teaching. I would be teaching. I would hop into their lives as necessary and I would take advantage of every situation to be a positive influence, but it would be me, teaching. Does that make any kind of sense? I'd go home at the end of the day full of myself and miserable.

Now, I could make a conscious effort not to do that, but I fear that I would end up being that anyway because I'm not called to teach high school. You know that fear that you're made for something bigger? Now, there is nothing bigger than teaching, than changing a life, than making a generation prepared to meet the world around them, so I should probably change bigger to different. Can I get an amen from someone who has felt the Spirit move but has been entirely unsure of the direction that it's moving in? We are blessed, we are anointed... to do what?

Same good conversation, we talked about what it's like to be "called". Oh. my. lanta. Being called. What does that even mean? (I feel like a Juno reference is inappropriate here... yeah, you know what I'm talking about.) Like, a mystical voice called you out of heaven and said, "Insert name here, I call you stop world hunger because you've finally all gotten the resources and it disgusts Me to see that you waste so much food without a thought to millions of my children who are starving." Does that happen?

Because, for me, being called is this sinking feeling in my stomach that comes from disobedience (or at least the intention of disobedience). I think about things I said I'd never be, things that I know that I could be, things that I think that I should be, and my stomach just sinks because I know what I'm supposed to do and I don't want to do it. I'm supposed to actually listen to God and obey what He says. I'm supposed to put myself aside. I'm supposed to follow Him anywhere, and in the Easter happiness that has lived in my life, I never remember where anywhere can lead. And all these people have all of these stories about life and how they weren't doing the right thing and then they finally figured it out and I don't want to be that. I mean, I kinda do, because then I'd have a story to tell someone, but if I hear these things, I feel like I should fix my life, learn from their mistakes, improve the human race instead of continuing to make the same mistakes that the ancient Israelites made. So I could go where I'm supposed to and find a way to make it seem like something other than taking people with potential who care immensely about God and the world He made and locking them away in a tower for another three years learning how to think, how to pray, what this dead ancient white guy said, how to deal with what this person is saying now, how to run a church, how to preach a sermon, how to serve God in this wonderfully organized, easily dying system.

Don't believe me when I say I've got it down.

I want to share a lesson with you.

Every year, the Earth, flying through space, with go through clouds of debris- maybe the tail end of comets, what have you- and this cloud of debris will cause this thing that we call a meteor shower. I love the beauty in the idea that a cloud of space dirt comes down to Earth as something worth staying up all night to see, but maybe that's just me. We have no control when this happens. We have people who call the planetarium demanding to know why we scheduled a meteor shower on a school night. Oh sorry, we say. We'll just change Earth's position in her orbit around the sun so your child can stay up on a Friday night instead of a Thursday night. Makes total sense.

If you know your astronomy, or if you listen to the weather report, you know that meteor showers get their names, like the Leonids or the Perseids or the Geminids because of the constellation they appear to originate from. The Leonids look like they're raining down from Leo, etc. But they don't really. Once again, they're just pieces of space dirt falling to put on a show for us. Some people wish on them, so for them, a meteor shower is like driving through town and hitting every single light yellow. It's just a great opportunity. But opportunities come from a lot of places. And if you're staring at Leo, hoping to catch all the meteors, you going to miss some.

Funny how you can be looking where you're told to look, the entire time, and miss the best part of the meteor shower.

Sisters, Stars and Smiles

This was one of those exhausting weeks that you're glad to see gone, but hate to see leave and given the chance, would live all over again. I might tweak some things, but I'd live it over again.

I worked twice this week at each job (and should have picked up tests to grade as well... hmmm...) and left the planetarium and Cold Stone tired but happy. You know, that tired that you get when you've accomplished something and that good feeling in your stomach when you know that you've done something right? It's a wonderful feeling to counter the tired feet and aching head.

I had a midterm and a problem set due on Monday. I got a different midterm back today and got an A- (can we please talk about this for a second? I'm so delighted- the only A's I've seen in my recent life have been the ones that start my name). For Monday, though, I felt semi-confident about the midterm (though if someone wants to correct my argument about Pompey's eastern tour and its military and constitutional implications, I'm happy to listen) and I know I did terribly on the problem set, but I finished it and I knew what was going on and that is something. I might have been completely lost in class after that, and the rest of the semester before that, but I can work with the Schrodinger Equation in spherical coordinates, I finally know what the Hamiltonian really stands for and I am getting to be a beast at angular momentum quantum mechanically, so take that, physics!

We polished handbells on Monday, and I played handbells on Wednesday and felt better about a lot of the things we're doing for the concert. We're playing Pictures at an Exhibition (love love love!) but the part for the bass bells is intense. I'm quite proud of myself (though Patrick worked out how most of the hard stuff would work) and my left arm is getting semi-buff because of it.

High point of the week? Tuesday night. Why Tuesday night, you may ask. Well, on Tuesday night, we at the Iota Tau chapter of Sigma Alpha Iota initiated twenty new sisters. If you've been listening to my life, you've probably heard that number before, because I say it often. I am so proud of my sisters in the chapter for forming a group of people that someone on the outside would want to be associated with, and I am so proud of the former members-in-training for having the guts to stick through all of this, to have the sisterly love required to change their schedules when necessary and just for being awesome in general. They are such a great addition to the chapter. You cannot believe how excited I am for next year. In addition to that, they played the Alma Mater on kazoos at their musicale. You don't get much more epic than that.



Speaking of my awesome sisters, we had formal at the planetarium tonight. So. Much. Fun. Before, my wonderful roommate/mermaid fixed my hair and did my makeup and we watched You've Got Mail and picked up the chocolates that littered the floor from the battle the night before. After attempting to exude confidence as I had been taught, walking in my heels up to the planetairum, I had the amazing privilege of being able to do a show in the theater for my sisters and their dates (holler praise for people who laughed at my jokes) and I loved the response. I mean, maybe it's feeding my ego, but I love it when people appreciate what you do, you know? And my boss was a fan of it as well, and very positive, and this bodes well for my future employment as a rambler in the theater at the planetarium. This makes me quite happy. You know what also makes me quite happy? Dancing to the Electric Slide (oh, camp days :D), belting out N*Sync, waking up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy (judge away, please) and attempting to remember the marching band Thriller dance and failing. Such good times.

I also had a chance to do something I've always wanted to do- conduct the marching band. It was once, for less than five minutes, but I had quiet cheers from my friends and sisters before I even climbed up on the ladder and more from my section and friends when I introduced myself. I loved being up there. I loved listening to the band playing to the beat that I was laying out (let's forget that it was absurdly slow, that I botched the transitions [thank goodness for drummers who can recover] and that my ending cutoff was a slight mess) and I loved standing on the ladder, looking out over the band. You might not be as excited as I am, but you're probably not in marching band and it probably doesn't matter much to you. And if you are and if it does, then you know what I mean. It's such a great feeling. I wish I had been a better candidate so I'd have another chance to conduct the band, but as it is, I'm perfectly happy to preserve my memory and leave the real life conducting to someone more suited.

So it's one in the morning on a Friday night and I am exhausted three ways from Sunday. The spring football game is tomorrow, I've got to have a problem set done by Monday, the new exec board is meeting on Sunday (dear sweet baby Jesus in A major, I've got a leadership position), there are books to be read and papers to be written. But I figured I'd sit back for a second and write it all down, because if you don't, you forget that life is for the alive and you'll spend your entire memory wasting away and wondering when that boy will wake up and see you as the answer to his questions. If you don't stop to think about the things you've been given, you will never have the chance to thank the Giver.

Happy resurrection life, my friends.

Lenten Devotion 2

So, once again, awesome Wesley devotions for Lent. (To check out more, see the Wesley blog: http://uncwesleyfootprints.wordpress.com/
.) But this one kinda grabbed me- I like the way old things are said in new-ish ways. It's a conglomeration of a lot of good phrases. Enjoy!


Romans 5:1-2
Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him, we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.

This passage reminds us of the sheer magnitude of the impact of Christ’s sacrifice on our lives. We remember, as we prepare for the celebration of the Resurrection, the new life we have been given in the Spirit through Jesus. We remember God’s unconditional love, that no matter what we may do, no matter how far we may try to stray from the path that God has set before us, God is with us, always. We remember the example Christ has set before us, when He said, “Yet not my will be done, but Yours,” as we recognize that our justification through faith is not a license to stray but an invitation to stay, a call to relationship with God. Through Christ, we find that we are indeed able to be at peace, and it is a gift freely given, but it is a gift that we must strive to accept each and every moment of our lives. Finding our way in the world, how we relate to the world and how we live our lives while focusing on something beyond ourselves, is a real challenge, and I hope that we can find it in ourselves to live that challenge. It is difficult, it is perhaps the hardest thing we’ll ever have to do, to live counter-culturally in a society that encourages conformation, but the reward is greater than we can imagine...a life of joy and peace in God.
Gracious God, we thank you for the amazing gift you’ve given us, for the fact that, despite the enormity of our debt, you have forgiven us, and you still seek us out even when we run from you. Lord, we pray for the wisdom to seek you with as much fervor as you seek us, and for the strength and patience to return to you even when we stray. Amen

BWAlmostThere!L,
Jake

Rock

Happy almost Easter.

Sorry about the lack of enthusiasm there. In addition to trying to remove the exclamation point from my life (because I am developing a sincere dislike for people, especially former speakers, who use exclamation points in a book) I'm just not excited. You see, for me, Easter last year was a big deal. Big. Huge. It was the end of a terrible season in my life. I want to say that Easter Sunday that Sunday was an epic experience, where light flooded back into my life and all the past wrongs that had ever happened were set right. That'd be a lie, so I'll try to avoid it.

But the point was that I could talk to God again. I could pray, and not in the angry, despairing, fearful, useless words that had defined my life before. I always get a little creeped out by mystics- I'm not really sure what to do with people who love God that much and in that way- but the easiest analogy is like getting back together with someone after you've had a fight. You know, you can talk again and each person forgives and forgets enough to function together. You put away the things that you argued about in the first place and focus on the reasons why you like being around the person. It's not a lie, per se, you're just willing to love the other person while they work on fixing the things that made you angry.

Well, God's not going to change, so guess who needs to fix themselves in this argument?

The really frustrating thing is that a year later, I'm still the same. Well, I'm a little different. The outside pain that I wouldn't let myself feel is creeping in. And I can't sit down in front of God and say that I've failed to hear the cry of the needy, because I have. I think I've been under the impression that hearing is enough. Goodness knows it's not. Imagine if God had only heard the cry of the Israelites in Egypt.

But doing is difficult. It's this rock in between me and God right now, because I'm not willing to do. But what do you do about the things that stab your heart? How do I do anything to help the more than 4. million. Palestinian refugees? Crying over their stories is not enough, but inviting them to live in my dorm room that has seceded from the residence hall isn't particularly reasonable. What do you do about abusive parents? Abusive boyfriends? You can't catch them all. How do you get a world that can feed every one of its citizens to wake up and realize that global hunger needs to be something in our shameful past? My heart breaks over the big things, the things that I have minimal control over. What are you going to do? You gonna beat up everybody?

But there must be something I can do, something beyond the small things I do.

And I'm really afraid there is.

You see, I don't want to go to the cross. I don't want to follow Christ to the cross on Friday, because I know that I've got my own cross that I have to pick up, my own mission for the redemption of humanity that no one else is going to do. And I don't know what it is yet, but the potential scale of it scares me to death. I can see the cross. And I don't want it.

See, I'm one of those people who said a long time ago that I'd follow You, Lord, wherever you lead. And I'm one of those people that says now, not there. I'll follow you anywhere but there. And there. OK, and maybe there too. Oh, and there's definitely out. Here, I've got this sharpie, how about I just mark off sections of the world that we won't go to, people we won't talk to, things we won't do, because I don't want to go there, no matter who's leading me there. And I know that I'm doing this. And I don't want to fix it.

Give me a church. Stick me in tower for another three years of education. Keep me in middle class America. Surely there's enough of a field there for me. And there is, I don't mean to knock anyone's calling, but there's also many other places that I am unwilling to go. I can't resolve this with God. One of us has to change. I'm pretty sure I know which one of us it'll be too. So I'm waiting on something to break, because I know it's coming. I'm sure it'll come at probably the most inopportune moment, but how do I fix this? How do you break your own arm? Because that's what bending on this is like for me. It's a beat down of a vital part of my pride, my fear and my humanity.

It's hard to see how far you've grown when you've shrunk.

Lenten Devotion

I've kinda been skipping reading the awesome devos that my friends at the UNC Wesley foundation have been sending out, but I was going through my email and this one made me feel better, so I hope it does the same for you.
PS BWL= Big Wesley Love


Matthew 26:59
“Now the chief priests and the whole council were looking for false testimony against Jesus so that they might put him to death.”

Not to point out the obvious here, but it’s kind of unfair that the good guy gets put to death just because the powers-that-be had a certain mindset that would not allow them to see what was right in front of their faces...namely, that Jesus was the Son of God. It’s kind of a symptom of the human condition thus far, isn’t it, though? The self-righteousness, the immobile worldview, the rush to condemnation...it’s all been a rather consistent short-coming of our kind throughout history. As much as it affects our relationships with the world at large, though, I’d like to talk about how we bring those same symptoms to bear when we pass judgment on ourselves. Lent is far too often a time of beating ourselves up—we focus on what we’re not doing well enough, try to “fix” it, and then pound our heads against the wall in frustration when we inevitably slip back into old habits. I’d like to take this moment to remind you that you are God’s creation, and you are loved. You are loved in totality, not just that which you consider good. This is not to say that we shouldn’t try to be the best possible versions of ourselves. On the contrary, I’ve found that there’s no greater motivating factor than the fact of such a great love. The point is, though, that we should be who we are created to be. We all have our limitations and our flaws. Figure out how to function and thrive in life through the wholeness of your personality, not just how to survive in spite of your weaknesses. Learn how you work in community, how even what you perceive as a weakness can help strengthen and guide others.

Prayer: Loving God, we are grateful for the gift of Your creation. We ask that you’ll help us to appreciate all of it, including ourselves, and to see it with fresh eyes everyday. Help us, during this Lenten season, to discover our true selves, and to become, in whole, that which You have created us to be. Amen.

BWLisReallyAnAwesomeThing,Isn'tIt?,
Jake

Anger

I am so sick.

I hate this world. I hate it. When, when did we decide that it was acceptable, fine, commendable to ignore the needy in the world and focus always on ourselves? When did we decide that we could 'help' people by bombing their country, tearing their world apart and forcing ideas and systems of governance foreign to them on their lives? When did we decide that we could put down other people to the point that they actually think they're as worthless as we make them seem? When did we make the choice to stop seeing humanity and start seeing us and them?

When did we decide that it's fine to have people living on the streets, out in the cold, without a house, when we have so much extra room in our houses, extra guest rooms, huge living rooms, game rooms, multiple dining rooms? When did we decide that we could waste our money on food we don't even want, that we're going to throw away, that we're going to turn our noses up at, when there are people dying, dying, as in never get to eat another meal because they're dead, dying of hunger? When did we decided that we could ignore the rest of the world as long as we are fine?

What are our institutions, our places of learning, our high towers and money systems, banks and corporate offices schools? What are our sporting events? How much money there is laying around, how many resources used for these things, when we could save the world, fix so many problems with what is spent in idle pleasure?

I'm sick of it. I'm sick of spending hours studying things that don't matter, that I won't use, that won't make a difference in the world, or that only make a difference in my tiny sliver of the world. There is injustice and oppression. There is murder and genocide and starvation and disease and hate, hate, hate, hate and anger and waste. The waste of the entire human race, do you realize that? Do we realize what potential we have, what we could do, if we would just save us from ourselves? And I'm angry and I don't want to spend another day being less than this world needs me to be. If I'm going to wear a cross of ashes on my forehead, I want to be Christ to the world, not have to hang my head down and ignore the people who are freezing outside because I don't know their situation or how I can help them.

No, and I know there are noble things to follow in this society of ours. And I know there is good. But fuck it all, because that's what's keeping us complacent, keeping me complacent, that's what's stopping us from waking up and realizing that there are problems that need to be addressed. We're comfortable, we're fine, we don't need to do anything yet.

And I'm afraid to see what it's going to take to make us change.

From Sunday

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world.

There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone.

And, as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
- Marianne Williamson

Spiritual Gifts Test

I'm spamming the blogosphere today.

So I had to google the spiritual gifts section of the NT because I got really sick of it in high school and proceeded to forget where it was. Then this spiritual gifts test came up (http://www.kodachrome.org/spiritgift/) and I figured I'd been ignoring one of these for a while, so I'd take this one. It's like a Facebook quiz for Jesus and my original intent was to take it about that seriously. Results below.

Score Graph of Score Spiritual Gift
19 ==================== Music
19 ==================== Writing
15 ================ Leadership
15 ================ Faith
15 ================ Encouragement
15 ================ Knowledge
15 ================ Giving
13 ============== Prophecy
13 ============== Discernment
13 ============== Poverty
11 ============ Wisdom
11 ============ Administration
11 ============ Pastoring
11 ============ Teaching
11 ============ Helps
10 =========== Exhortation
9 ========== Missionary
8 ========= Apostle
8 ========= Mercy
5 ====== Intercession
5 ====== Craftsmanship
5 ====== Celibacy
4 ===== Hospitality
2 === Miracles
2 === Evangelism
1 == Tongues Speaking
0 = Tongues Interpreting
0 = Healing

1) Prophecy FTW!
2) Celibacy? Gee, I didn't know loneliness was a spiritual gift.
3) Poverty? Wait, so giving is higher than poverty (which, btw, is higher than pastoring, so I totes should just go live in a box somewhere. And write encouraging and faith-filled things) which makes total sense because you can give out of your poverty... oh wait.
4) Mercy fail :(
5) HAHAHAHA speaking in tongues. Yup, those suckers got a NEVER so I'm surprised it got a point.
6) Healing fail :(
7) Helps?
8) Prayer fail. Not so sad face.

Clearly, I'm going to define my life plans off of this (or not psht), but I also feel like it's unfair to have me judge myself. I also feel like it'd be unfair to have someone else do it for me because goodness knows I won't let anyone in close enough to figure the most accurate answer for me. Anyways, I just thought I'd alert you, dear, unique reader, to this quiz's existence (all 140 questions) so that you too can learn things that other people have seen in you a long time.

Also, please judge me on my derisive nature, especially when it comes to the more fantastic of the spiritual gifts. I need someone to tell me that the Spirit really does move in weird ways so I can understand why people are suffering and dying unjustly all over the place but we can spend our time agonizing over a God we only remember because we've built many big (too small) houses for Him that clog up our memory and tear apart His Body.

Gah, why can't I be funny for once? Spiritual gift number 21: seriousness.

Please Tell Me I'm Not Destined for Apologetics

To avoid getting emotionally involved in the slaughter that is occurring right now on my television (gotta hate those orange teams), I'm going to write. You know, trade one passion for the other. Because I got something on my mind and I don't think it's going to go away.

So I'm in this religious studies learning community, right? It's supposed to be supporting a pluralistic way of life. I didn't know what pluralistic was at the beginning of the year and I had to look it up. Religiously, it's the view that all religions are equally valid, without anyone holding the market on truth and rightness, and it pushes coexistence. Now, currently, I'm all for coexistence because, as Voldemort said in a Very Potter Musical, "You think that killing people would make them like you, but it doesn't. It just makes them dead." And then it makes their descendants bitter and then any chance at reconciliation and understanding is put off for millenniums, and that only if neither one of you does anything to make the other mad.

But, you know, I'm realizing more and more that I don't think that all religions or lack thereof are equally valid. Now, before you go hating on me, I'm not going to judge anyone on their religion. I'm reading God is Not Great by Christopher Hitchens and he said something like religious people can't leave other people alone. Maybe this is one of my failings as a Christian, but I can leave people alone. If there is not something about my life that sets me apart, that makes me different, something that I have that you don't that you want, if you are completely content in your religious choice, then I'm not going to offer any advice or leave you with any statements. Now, I might pray for you, but that's between me and my God, who is working in you and has been working in you since the day you were born, whether you want Him to or not.

I'm not going to sit back and bash all other religions. I'm not. I think there is value in different religion. I don't think that they're all basically the same, but I do think that things like doing good and searching for truth and being moral are all of merit. I like the Muslim's devotion and I think the practice of praying five times daily is a beautiful thing. I like the Buddhist meditation idea. I love the bittersweet faith of Judaism, the Psalm that comes out of exile, the way of living with a life that's not going to treat you right. And honestly, I love seeing beauty and wisdom in every day life and thank God you don't need a knowledge of Him to see that there is good in this universe.

I said something tonight that I couldn't believe once it left my mouth. We were going around saying our favorite spiritual quote of the moment and the guy next to me quoted LBJ: "Sometimes you have to hunker down and take it like a jackass in a hailstorm." Solid. True. When we were explaining to the larger group the most talked about quote in our smaller group, we had to explain what the group liked about it. Our group used the LBJ quote because it was funny and I happened to justify it by saying, "You know, it's good to hear things like God created the heavens and still cares about man, but sometimes you just need something practical for your everyday life, you know, step down into the real world." Callous. Dismissive. The guy next to me said, "My thoughts exactly."

We went onto the next group and one of the guys I know is Christian said, "Well, I don't know if I can agree with that last statement." They went on and talked about their quote ("Those who don't know how to weep with their whole heart, don't know how to laugh either." -Golda Meir, former Israeli prime minister) and the meeting carried on. I shook my head. I don't know if I can agree with my last statement either.

You know, I was just saying it to be rational. I was just saying it to make a Christian seem like a reasonable human being instead of someone who's got too much heaven on their minds. I'm a practical person. You can't feed your children on God and the heavens, try as I might later in life. And John Wesley was a proponent of meeting people where they are. That's totally what I was going for, right?

Incorrect. I was saying something that I knew would be popular. It was accepting. It was understanding. It was me being a pansy and denying what I should have said. The take home message from Passion is that it's all about God's glory. God is glorified in many wonderful things. In every beautiful things that a human being can do, God is glorified. In every preserved bit of this great creation, God is glorified. In the pristine, thankfully untouchable stars, God is glorified. It's all about the Creator who loves us with an unfathomable love and we only get our significance through that.

And that's not accepting of all other religions. I need that glory in my life. I don't think I realized how much my religion needs a heart, how much I have longed to long after God until I went on Passion. It's good for that. It's also good for falling into the emotional high trap and thinking that loud music and good speakers is what modern Christianity is all about. But the people who spoke I truly believe really meant what they were saying and really believed in God. Really believed in God and His great ability to redeem and restore, to prepare and repair. And it's hard to sit back and say that there is meaning in atheism. I love the idea in The Shack, that all roads don't lead to Jesus, but He will walk down any road to find you. He's searching for you more than you could ever search for Him. God wants us more than we could ever want Him.

Sorry that this has just been a rant, but, goodness, I am frustrated by people who believe that they are their only god because I think the bigger picture of humanity forever escapes them. I am frustrated by my willingness to concede to everything when I know that one day I am going to have to stand up and say what I really mean and that means that the lies will come forward. Listening is good. Understanding is good. You can't take Christ to people without knowing where they are. But it's God we're talking about here. I'm not going to let Him be lowered in my speech for the benefit of someone else's confusion.

Call me crazy.

Call me a Christian.