Simple Concepts, part 1

I feel like my voice has been silenced at  some point in the last few weeks. Thoughts are attacking my mind like a swarm of bees around a hive and I can seem to calm them down  enough to put them into words in any organized fashion. Lately I catch myself talking and talking and talking. My thoughts keep forcing themselves out of my mouth in such an unorganized way that I simultaneously feel extremely misunderstood in conversation. The truth is, everything feels like it’s becoming so simple to me, but simple concepts seem impossible to communicate.

A year or so ago, my friend Brad taught me what we call “The Game”. It’s a simple game that will ruin your life (at least if you don’t forget the game the minute you learn it). It goes something like this:

The Game

Rule 1: Anyone who starts playing the game plays for life.

Rule 2: Any time you think of the game, you lose the game

Rule 3: Any time you lose the game, you must tell everyone you’re with.

Three rules. Simple, huh? But every time I explain the game to someone, the first question I get is, “OK, so what’s the game, how does it work?”

Have our lives become so complicated that we can’t understand how to put three rules together? Have we lost the creativity to take three rules and begin playing the game? Instead, we always seem to need to be told how. This idea has been hitting me on a few levels lately; War, peace, economics and love. Today I am writing mostly about the latter.

One of the misunderstood concepts spreading throughout the nation is the notion that our country needs to return to morals. I disagree. A moral is not any sort of an assumption of fundamental truth, and morals themselves are often subjective. A moral is a lesson derived from a situation, story or piece of information, and morality is a way to live these lessons through the goodness and badness of human character. I believe that this is where morals miss the mark. What can be accomplished by defining a rule, or lifestyle around the badness of human character? When God created man, didn’t he say it was good? If sin truly entered the world, sure sin would be bad, and sure evil may be in existence, but did it change the goodness of human character, or just the goodness around the human? Are we sin, or are we sinful?

I have often been disappointed in the way that recovery programs ask their participants to say, “I am an addict.” Why don’t they say, “I am a great person who is addicted?” or “I am an addicted person that hopes to grow stronger?” Addiction should be treated as an adjective and not a noun.  I myself admit to addictions – Mainly consumerism and unhealthy food choices. I am not an addict though. If consumerism is the nature of my being, then I have no chance at recovery. Likewise, if we define humans as bad or evil people, rather than people who have done bad or evil things, what chance do they have? Have we given up on hope for our neighbors? If God created us as good, I do not believe a person can be bad at the core.

With that being said, let’s return to the idea of morals, starting with this – Morals are derived from principles. Though morals are similar to principles, they are a way of taking a principle and feeding it through a grinder with historical perspective, culture, and the assumption of good and evil as being a part of human character. Hmm… sounds to me like a moral turns out to be a byproduct of a little truth, a little experience, a little opinion, and maybe some chili powder. How much is our culture run on byproducts? Nothing is pure anymore. Chicken isn’t chicken; it’s  chicken byproduct. Butter isn’t butter, it’s mixed with too many things. This is one of the largest contributors to health problems today. Likewise, spiritual byproducts are killing our belief systems. I want to get back to the core, the raw truth. This is why I prefer the word principle. Principle is defined as “a fundamental truth or proposition that serves as the foundation for a belief, a behavior, or a chain of reasoning.” Can we get back to principles instead of morals?

What does this mean? If a principle is a fundamental truth as defined above, then where does it come from? That’s hard to answer since we all have different religious beliefs, but lets examine something that I believe everyone holds as a fundamental truth - love. I think for certain we have in our nature a sense of Love. Love is defined in so many ways from friends to family to spouses, etc. Jesus said that all laws, all commandments are fulfilled when we love God and our neighbor. What more do we need than love?

I know what 99% of people will say from this; “yeah, but you can’t just love everyone everyday in every way if they’re not all willing to do the same. They’ll steal from you or take advantage.” This is what my mom calls an ANT or an Automatic Negative Thought. Remember, if you are doing your role of loving, what can go wrong? Ok, so someone steals from you. Remember, if you hold on to that treasure in the first place, you are not living out the principle of loving God. I couldn’t believe how many people I shocked when my car was broken into last year and I said, “well, they must have needed my wallet and phone power chords more than I.” I don’t say that to tout myself, but to teach myself that my love is flawed if I can’t always answer that way. Things are not ours, land is not ours, stuff is not ours. Still, Love is too simple a concept for some to really get. Even when Jesus tried to tell his disciples to simply love God and your neighbor, the teachers right away tried to complicate it with “who is my neighbor.”

I’ve heard people say that love is complicated – the types of love, the ways to love, who you love, failure of love, etc. But again, these are byproducts of love. Love at its core is simple, and should require no explanation. Yesterday, in church we read a verse where Jesus said, “love recklessly” (John 12:25). So I wonder why we constantly try to cut our losses before letting ourselves love someone. Why do we love just half way to protect ourselves and our things? I’ve been told that it’s easier said than done, but I say it’s too simple for that to be true. In fact, its far easier done than said! I have heard of enough problems that can come from doing the right thing, but we protect ourselves too much at the cost of others.

Now, let me wrap this up by returning to the beginning of this conversation. I had questioned why we need to be told the “how” instead of creating the “how”. In the many stories of Jesus, he constantly told us to love. He gave us the "what" (love), the "who(m)" (God and neighbors), the "why" (because it makes a better world), the "when" (indefinitely), and the where (everywhere). He gave many examples in his life that answered the “how”, but even the Good Samaritan story did not define every future scenario. We constantly have to define the how by returning to the core -the fundamental belief and the principle - of love.

I leave you with this question:

When will it be enough just to do something because it’s the right thing to do?

 

 

The History of the Church, Part 1

I must warn you that this entry will be filled with my least favorite subject; History. It’s hard to walk through Philly without remembering a little US History, but I want to share it with you the way I wish I had learned it; Not what happened, but what it means to us, how it applies to us today, why we should still have hope today. Also, if I am successful, you will see how I apply it to the hope I have for Christianity today and the future of the church.

The History of The US, Part 1

“Proclaim LIBERTY throughout all the land unto all the Inhabitants thereof. Lev XXV X”

I stood behind the roped off area, staring at the word “Liberty” and wondering what it meant. Why was this word inscribed here, and not “Freedom?” Why not “Democracy?” Why not “Independence?” The light was shining through the huge glass walls, casting shadows on this broken American Icon. From my memory though, this word, “liberty” was much larger, kind of centered and solitary - the title of the story. But here, I stood and saw that the title was not Liberty, in fact there was not title, just a sentence taken from the bible. I learned for the first time what this story was really about. I had to wait for the crowd to clear a little before I could walk a circle, about 15ft in circumference, to read the entire quote. I read it slowly. “…all the inhabitants thereof.” I took a few steps back and read again,  “Proclaim Liberty…” then read again, “…all the inhabitants thereof.” I finish my walk back to the front, back to the part that everyone wants to see – the crack. I am in Philadelphia, the Epicenter of the United States of America. I can see Independence Hall through the window. I am trying to keep Nicolas Cage out of my mind because I keep imagining him in "National Treasure," running through the streets carrying the Declaration of Independence. I want to reach out and touch the crack, really feel it, experience it. The Liberty Bell is silent because it chooses to be a voice beyond the hills and oceans. It wants to send a message greater than a loud ringing.

The Liberty Bell was commissioned to be created far before the Revolution, before the First Continental Congress, and far before the US even conceived the idea to separate from Great Britain. As it turns out, the bell was not known as the Liberty Bell, just the State House Bell. Also, there is no evidence that it rang on July 8^th, 1776, when the Declaration of Independence was signed and read. Yeah, that’s right, I learned in Philadelphia that the 4^th of July Independence day was not the day that the Declaration was signed, but the day it was drafted. Funny the way we tweak history isn’t it? When the bell was first hung, in 1753, a hairline crack was discovered, which was accredited to a poor composition of metal. So, John Pass and John Stowe re-cast the bell. However, the crack reappeared. One more time, they re-cast the bell but it failed. History says that the bell’s final ring was at the celebration for George Washington’s birthday, in 1846, but one could argue that it is really still ringing today.

It wasn’t until the abolition movement that the bell began to represent something greater. The quote on the bell began to speak to the nation in a new way. The word Liberty means, “The state of being free within society from oppressive restrictions imposed by authority on one’s way of life, behavior, or political views.”  For the abolitionists, when you put this definition into the quote on the bell, this meant that all inhabitants of the land deserve to be free of oppressive restrictions imposed by authority. So, it became known as the Liberty Bell. 

It began with the abolition, but the Liberty bell represented the same idea for the Civil Rights era and the Women's Suffrage movement. It was not only a US icon, but a world-recognized icon. From Nelson Mandela to Ghandi, the bell rings. Was it just the inscription that had such an effect, such a loud ring? No, the image of the Liberty Bell is the crack. The bell was re-cast three times before it was settled that it would always be imperfect, and it sat for years before that imperfection turned out to be one of the most powerful images in the world.

I think that when we look at the bell, we can learn to be content with our own imperfection. We can learn to stop trying to re-cast ourselves, and start to see that maybe our purpose wasn’t to ring out loud at all. This bell was made with the intention that it would ring. The people who hung it had no idea that one day it would represent an entirely different country, it would hang still even though it didn’t ring. I doubt that it was tradition to keep a bell that didn’t even ring. I mean, what do we do with cars that don’t drive? Or Printers that don’t print? But this bell somehow stayed around. Earlier I wrote that the bell chose not to ring. Perhaps it chose not to ring because it would be a lie to ring a bell with such a quote in a land that lacked true liberty. As I stood and looked at the bell on Saturday, I was heartbroken because 250 years after this bell was first hung, we still oppress the inhabitants of our land. Women are still not paid equally to men. The bell remains cracked. All races are oppressing each other. The bell remains cracked. Two people in love are not free to walk the streets safely, let alone marry. The bell remains cracked. Hard workers with great hearts only wanting the best for their family, only wanting a chance at a better life are beaten and hated because we have a broken system.  The bell remains cracked. It chooses to remain cracked.

 

I left the building where the Liberty Bell stands, and later visited Independence Hall, where the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were signed. I remember in 8^th grade, we had a mock Constitutional Convention where we basically re-enacted the drafting of the Constitution. It took us a week. In reality, it took the founders one summer to create the Constitution. Yet, today it takes many years to agree on any single issue; Heath Care, Social Security, so-called border “security” - because so many terrorists have come from Mexico, right? I guess if you’re stuck in a small room with sweaty men and no air condition in the middle of summer in Philadelphia, you are in a rush to get your agenda over with. But do you know what our tour guide accredited for the short time it took to complete the Constitution? Compromise. What is Compromise? Doesn’t that mean that each side must give up a little something to arrive at an agreement?

I remember learning about “The Great Compromise”, the one that decided the way our Legislature would be set up. A lower house, based on population of states, and the upper house with equal numbers of representatives from each state, no matter the size. See, the compromises that our founding fathers came up with were really more of synergy than compromise. Stephen Covey, author of 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, describes synergy as, “Not my way, not your way, but the high way.” That’s really what the Great Compromise was – Synergy. We have lost that. Once again, we find ourselves in a political debate between presidential candidates that want to tear each other down, so that we will be left with polarized individuals, who nobody relates to. No candidate will be favorable. Debates are set aside for bitter politicians and talk show hosts to tear down the candidates for the littlest things. What if political analysts existed in the time of George Washington. Wouldn’t they be tearing him apart about the Cherry Tree? If we are looking for a perfect president, I say let’s forget it. Does Barrack’s church really matter in the end? Sure, Bill O’reilly can spin a million reasons why it matters, but when you look at all the great things that could come to America, with young people who are actually motivated to do something, does it really matter? So, Hillary exaggerated about snipers. Who cares, haven’t you ever exaggerated something? What does that have to do with our desperate need for Heath Care.

Still, I have hope. I have hope for our country and our future. I believe that we can get back to the core of Synergy. In the short time that the founding fathers met, they were able to include the opportunity for change in the constitution. Thank God they did, because the Constitution originally specified that plantation owners should have the right to have slaves. That was later changed. 

The 9^th amendment says, “The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.” This means that just because it isn’t a right enumerated in the Constitution, doesn’t mean that a right should be denied to an individual. Aside from amendments limiting Presidential terms and Congressional compensation, the only amendment used to limit the rights of the people was the Prohibition of 1919, which lasted 20 years before it was repealed. The government has been given the ability to do something, to re-create our future. It is widely known that we need change more desperately now than ever, but the only way to do it will be to put aside agendas and compromise, Synergize.

 

 

Woe to The Church and Christianity

My greatest grievance about the current state of America is the role that the Church has played. The Church itself is a broken bell, attempting to define morality for the country - Ethics that supposedly come from the Bible. The problem is, that the Church itself is failing because it is not drawing from the morals of Jesus, but interpretations and manufactured morals. Just as Cheese Wiz is manufactured from a bunch of chemicals and crap and only the slightest amount of Milk, which comes from cows, which God made. Still, Cheese Wiz is not close to real cheese. But we love it. It’s easy to put on crackers, it’s convenient. But at the end of the day, we get fatter and more unhealthy. I have been so frustrated with the many types of churches there are, and even more frustrated at the similarities between them. We’ve spent so much time creating different denominations, when we all call ourselves followers of Christ. If we are all followers of Christ, then we are Christians- that’s it! I believe the Churches should just accept the cracks between the denominations, and stop trying to ring the bell – be bigger than a ringing.

Furthermore, I am frustrated that many leaders today are predicting doom for the church, asking us to basically give up on the idea of church. This is not the way either. In my frustration, I have been pondering a question that Jesus asked his disciples. I go back to it when I try to figure out what church really should be like. Jesus asked, “Who do you say that I am?” How do I answer that today? I pray and meditate on it some. I read books about a new form of Christianity.  Mostly though I try to read about Jesus’ life – how He did it, how He did church. I have realized that what would have been considered his "church" was the way he lived. I have developed a vision for what I believe is much closer to what He wanted for church. To understand it, we need to understand the very flaw of Christianity today, and to understand that, I must share another history lesson from way before the Americas were even discovered.

It’s 340 BC. The world is flat. Science is in its early stages. There is no real record of time. No true calendar exists. Aristotle, a student of Plato, has created the model of spheres – a theory that the planets and the Sun in the sky all revolve around Earth. From this theory, he develops a calendar that is adopted and widely used for the next 2000 years. In the early 1400’s AD, Nicolaus Copernicus created a theory that the Earth was not after all the center of the universe. Instead, it is the Sun that is the center. By now, it’s pretty clear that there is a problem with the current calendar because about every 100 years, winter is coming in the summer months but, rather than search for the reason, the Pope just re-sets the calendar every 100 years. Copernicus was never able to publish his works, but about 150 years later, Galileo picked up the works of Copernicus. Now, with the use of a telescope, Galileo was able to confirm the theory that Copernicus had come up with. However, when Galileo published this theory, he was tried at the stake where he renounced the theories. Ironically, his college roommate had become the Pope and forbid him from publishing such heretical ideas. It was 200 more years before the modern Gregorian Calendar was finally recognized.

What does this mean? For 2000 years, a calendar was widely accepted, though it was clear that there was a flaw in it somewhere. The flaw was a result of the very core, the most central base of what the calendar was built off of – the Earth. Still today, our calendar is not perfect. We have to have leap year every four years, but here’s a fact you probably didn’t know: leap years do not occur in years that are divisible by 100. But what about the year 2000? I remember a leap year! Years divisible by 100 that are also divisible by 400 ARE leap years. Is it clear yet that we still have a flaw In our calendar like we still have a flaw in our government, and our Church?

I find it interesting that here we are 2000 years after the death of Christ, and we have settled with a church that is flawed at its very core – We have a Christianity based mostly on the teachings of Paul, and not Christ. Like a calendar based on the Earth, not the Sun. Furthermore, it seems that we haven’t answered Christ’s question correctly - “Who do you say I am?” We haven’t grasped a peaceful, graceful, loving Jesus. Like the Calendar, I don’t think we will have a perfect Christianity, but I hope for a better Christianity. For now, I could settle with some sort of a theological leap year, as long as we don’t keep ignoring the fact that Winter is arriving when Summer should be arriving.

There have been changes over the years in the church, though. Some have progressed Christianity, some have digressed from the true Christ, and some have really not gone anywhere. There has been a movement that has been trying to define itself for a while now. It was called “Post Modern,” then “Emergent,“ and some other names, but this movement can’t seem to define itself. We know that involved in it is a new type of theology, but each time a new name is given to it, the Fundamentalist conservative church snaps up the name and says, “hey, look we have candles now too, this is Post Modern church. But we’re not changing our theology.” There is also a desire for true community in this movement. So many people are out there waiting for this movement to come to life. I have some thoughts on what is holding this movement back from its full fruition. This will be my last history lesson of today’s entry; The History of the Modern Church in my interpretation. 

The Colonial Church: I have always had a problem with this church (by the way the name is just made up to represent this type of church. Don't try to research The Colonial Church). It is the church that looks a lot like the colonial American model. King George, representing Great Britain ruled over the American colonies the same way that a main church, often times - but not limited to – the “Mega Church” is the central focus of church, which is broken down into “small groups” or “Care Groups” or as my church calls them, “Sanctuaries.” We could probably even include church interest groups and various ministries in this category. The point is, these are the community events, the relationship builders. The problem is, too few people attend these groups. This is the most important part of true Christianity though - Community. We are focused around the large gathering. All that matters is that I show up to church on Sunday and listen to the pastor.

There has been a movement of people who agree with me on The Colonial Church. They’ve had a problem with its structure, and out of that frustration we have seen the development of

The House Church: I love the house church. It is the church I want to call my church, but I think it's missing something. When I go back to reading how Jesus did church, this is how he did it! He sat at dinner tables with the people. He communed with them. He broke bread with them. They shared stories and nobody was paid to do the music, or to preach. They shared. Still, as much as I love this, there is a need for more. People who attend this church often attend The Colonial Church too. This means they aren’t completely committed to either community, which leads to simple attendance. Simple attendance is just coming to get something, and not to give. So, why don’t we just get people to commit to a house church and that’s it? No, there is a reason for the larger churches. Let’s look at Jesus again: Sure they met in houses but we see large gatherings as well; The feeding of the 5000, the sermon at the mount, preaching in the synagogues. Yes, there is a power in larger groups. Do you remember what happened after the Declaration of Independence was signed? Yes, the war, but how was government structured after the war? The Constitution, right? No, we first had the Articles of Confederation. We went from the Oppression of the King to just the opposite – no federal law whatsoever. This turned out disastrous as rebellions were staged just to prove that as individual states, there would be no control in the land, no unity. 

This brings me to my hope for the future of church:

Christ’s Church: In the same way that our current government structure is meant to stress the importance of the individual states, and out of the states, develop a federal government, I believe that Christ’s Church would be something like turning The Colonial Church upside down. Instead of focusing on the big gathering on Sunday, the Church is based on small groups, house churches, sanctuaries. This is the most crucial part of the church. This must exist like the calendar must be centered around the Sun, not the Earth. The big gathering on Sunday is important, but less so than community. In this structure, Christians cannot simply attend. This structure calls all to be active.

This Church structure is a church that requires little to no staff. I love how my pastor from Missiongathering, Rich says that Jesus doesn’t want to be #1 in our lives, he wants to be the center of our lives. If Jesus is the center of our lives, and a church calls themselves Christian, then everyone must contribute. If everyone contributes, there is no need for staff. We can be Christians and leaders and members and pastors in our every day life.

But people will say that they don’t have enough time for that type of church. My answer is simply, Yes you do. Small groups don’t require much - 2 hours a week maybe. A small group should not be a pot luck. Jesus calls us to a life of simplicity – not selling everything and living in a shack, but not wastefulness like a pot luck either. I love the House Church I’ve been attending, The Hawthorne House. Each time I go there, it is a simple meal of bread and soup and salad. Maybe a good beer or wine too. It’s simple though. There is such a power in sharing a table, sharing a meal with someone. The small groups will likely have leaders emerge, some of whom would choose to preach in the larger gatherings, leaving no need for one preacher. 2 hours a week, 2 hours on Sunday, and I say 4 hours on one day a month to commit to social justice. That’s 20 hours a month out of a possible 672. That’s only 3% of your time! If this were a test, you’d be kicked out of the class.

I am so sad that I cannot commit to calling myself a Christian because of the way the name has been tainted and even broken up. So, though I believe that this is the way Jesus would do church today, I would feel weird about calling it a Christian church. That is, unless it were a big enough movement to redefine Christian back to its true meaning - follower of Christ. It’s funny that the Dictionary defines the word Christian as “Of, relating to, or professing Christianity and/or its teachings.” Why isn’t it “professing Christ and/or His teachings?” True Christianity is what I want. The best way I can sum it up is in a poem I wrote a few years ago when I was inspired by Def Jam poetry, and I revised it today:

 

Religion

Religion makes war, makes hate, makes hunger

Religion makes outcasts, and sinners, even single mothers

Religion oppresses the Samaritan and the Jew

What does your religion say about you?

 

I want a Christianity that says I’m an activist

I want a Christianity that says I’m a Feminist

I want a Christianity that won’t let me be racist

Or judgmental or stand by and just face it

 

I want a Christ like I read about in the Bible

With the cross on his shoulder

Not the white guy with bleached blonde hair

That children follow like soldiers

I want a Christ that gets on his knees

To put his hand on my shoulder

He says “I’ve always loved you

And I’ll love you when it’s all over.”

 

These days, it’s all a sin

Because we can’t all be in

We have to be exclusive

A club for the elusive

Ones

Who try to hide their secrets In their rooms

and lock the door by the light of the moon

because in the dark, the Sun won’t see their secrets

But what they haven’t realized is

That the light of the moon

Is the light of the Sun

A reflection of The One

The true One who you can’t hide your secrets from

No, not this Jesus

He’s not Religious.

 

Religion makes war, makes hate, makes hunger

Religion makes outcasts, and sinners, even single mothers

Religion oppresses the Samaritan and the Jew

What does your religion say about you?

 

I don’t want a church that makes me fear sex

Because it will take away my soul

I don’t want a church that forces out my straightness

And makes me play gender roles

 

I don’t know a god who would send me to war

To kill another

One of His beloved, His creation, my brother

I don’t know a god who gives up on the addicted

Alcoholics, druggies, they’re all afflicted

With a horrible disease that needs treatment

 

We don’t have time to offer help

But we find time to offer resentment

Lock them away it don’t matter where they’re sent

We find a way to offer blame which creates division

Which we try to glue back together

With Religion

 

Religion makes war, makes hate, makes hunger

Religion makes outcasts, and sinners, even single mothers

Religion oppresses the Samaritan and the Jew

What does your religion say about you?

More Than Oceans

I love the way that Southwest Airlines does its seating. It’s basically open seating and whoever checks in first gets first choice of seats. I’m not anal about it, but I usually get somewhere in the first sixty people on the plane. So, I get my preferred aisle seat. Once I’m seated though I feel like I’m standing in a line against the wall in third grade, waiting to be picked for the kickball game. One by one, people look left and right down the aisles and at some point have to realize that they are going to have to sit next to someone. So they begin to assess each person, each seat and decide who will be comfortable to sit next to, who looks friendly, who doesn’t smell bad, who will not attempt to talk to you when they want to sleep. I’m not going to lie, I make these judgments too as board the plane.

 

 In elementary school, I was a killer kickball player, I mean I played soccer since I was five so how could I not be a great kickball player? Yet I was always the last to be picked. Likewise, in middle school, our school had a program called Natural Leadership, in which students were nominated to participate in a training program of sorts. I always thought I was a good leader, but nobody nominated me so I couldn’t participate. In certain circles it seems to work that way, like on my high school soccer teams. However, on my club soccer teams that I was on with different teammates than the high school teams, I was often a captain, a leader, and one of the more respected players. Now, as I sit in the aisle seat  and I make eye contact with person after person who passes me by, I become self conscious to the highest degree. “Am I scary looking? Do I smell? Am I so fat that people think they will be uncomfortable next to me?” Not every plane ride is like this though. Sometimes I’m the first to be picked, and we have great conversation and have a great ride.

 

Why is it that in certain environments a persons talents and skills are showcased so well, but in other environments, they are compressed into a  box and stored away? In High school, I made a drastic decision my senior year. I had completed three years of school at RB High, and had many different circles of friends. I did ok in school, I made the soccer teams I tried out for, I made it into plays I tried out for, I was in the top choir, I was a part of a few clubs’ leadership teams. It was an average high school career. But I was so unhappy. For three years I was unhappy because I thought I was worth more than that. I thought I should be a team captain, a bigger role in a play. I was selected as a co-choir president by the director, but if I tried to do any of the presidential duties, I was kind of told, no- the other co-presidents would do it. I was one of four students who started a new club to fight biased, bigotry, and racism. I worked hard with them to speak in the community with public clubs, like Octagon International. I spoke at teachers meetings to drum up support, I filled out paper work at times. But once the club was established and we had to elect officers, I lost in the elections for Pres, VP, Sec, Treas, and two other leadership roles. I was offered a consolation position that the club director made up because she felt bad for me, it was called “Head of Speaking Events.” Better than nothing I guess.

 

Overall, I felt like nobody thought I was special, or a standout. After three years (well, more really because middle school hadn’t been much different), I was starting to think about myself how everyone else thought of me. I bet I would have graduated thinking of myself just that way. Extremely average. Run of the mill. But one day, I was sitting in economics class in the seat in front of Gabe Lindamen. He was a popular guy, really cool, funny, played the banjo, loud, obnoxious. But his comedic outbursts often hurt somebody. Quite often, that person was me. He made it public that my clothes were not cool, I was a loser, I was a momma’s boy. One month into the first semester of my senior year, there he was behind me in class, poking at me- literally. He cracked a few jokes before class started, then made some comment that I don’t remember. I quickly stood up and turned around and at the moment that I thought I was going to swing back my arm and hit him, I breathed in really hard, filling up my lungs, staring at his shocked, confused face, and I sharply grabbed my backpack and walked out of class. At the end of the day, I made arrangements with my mom to transfer schools.  My friends were confused. The choir took it hard, especially the teacher - I think she took it really personally. I suddenly felt like I could be more. I never cared too much about what others thought of me, but I felt I deserved, at the least, respect. I have a feeling that in that decision, I earned Gabe’s respect. The next day, as I went in to get my teacher to sign off on my transfer and mark down my grade, he announced to the class that I was going. After that last class, I found out that Gabe did have a heart, though I had never seen it before in 3 years. He put his hand on my shoulder from behind- a stark contrast from the pokes of the day before- and said, “I’m really sorry if anything I did hurt you.” I think I mumbled something back to him, passing off his part of all of this like, “oh that’s not why I’m leaving”. I hope he knew though deep down that he was the last straw anyway.

 

Hindsight is so weird. Looking back at what one moment, one day in my life meant. I think If I could talk to Gabe today, I would tell him, “thanks. You changed my life.” Really, he did. In two ways though. First, he was the last straw that pushed me to do something that really changed my future. I could have transferred and been bitter the rest of my life, thinking that some people are just mean. But when he apologized, I decided with conviction that people in general are definitely good deep down.

 

So, I transferred. Mt. Carmel would be my new school. It’s not much of a different school besides the fact that the average car in the parking lot had a retail value of about $15000 less than that of RB high. I was offered a spot in the top choir, but turned it down because I had already filled my elective requirements and I figured choir would be an extra class that I could just take off first period. I continued private voice lessons instead. But part way through the semester, the drama teacher approached me because he had heard that I sing and act. He asked me to try out for the musical, which I probably would have done anyway. I don’t think that he nor I expected that I would be given the lead role which also won me the best actor award for the year. I felt like a leader in clubs that I joined, even though it was too late to become an officer. I felt like my input was always appreciated in classes. I felt like people wanted to be around me rather than they were just content that I was around. Friends wanted me to try out for the soccer team, though I chose not to because the musical interfered. I was just plain respected and understood. To top it off, I was chosen to sing a solo at graduation.

 

Now, I’m not boasting that I am much of a singer or actor or soccer player, I am just stressing the affect that a different atmosphere can have on a person. A change in environment can re-define someone, or help that person to re-define themself. It’s funny, I’m listening to Switchfoot right now, and the song “More than Fine” just came on.

 

“When I wake in the morning, I wanna blow it to pieces. I want more than just OK….”

 

“…I’m not giving up, giving up, not giving up now. I’m not giving up giving up, I’m not selling out… not backing down”

 

“...More than Fine, more than bent on getting by. More than fine, more than just ok. More than oceans away from the dawn. More than oceans away from who we are….”

 

These lyrics are perfect.

 

This is what I want, what I always wanted. This is what I wanted in High school. More than Fine, more than just ok. I think most people want that, don’t they? Don’t you? Somewhere over time too many of us are convinced that we don’t deserve more than fine. I was there at the beginning of my senior year of high school. I am not backing down, not giving up! I am going to re-discover myself and re-define myself.

 

The problem I think we have in society, the reason why we so often hold each other back and tell each other they are not good enough – not in words, but in actions- is that we live in a society that equates success and finance and happiness to a pie; The more you get, the less for me. Isn’t that the way we think? Don’t we complain about immigrants because if they get a piece of the pie, I can’t get any? Don’t we shun socialism because we are too afraid to share our possessions with others? And we are afraid to recognize each others' talents and lift each other up because if they are good at something, it means I am less good at it? We have the wrong focus. We do not live in a pie – but we do live in a circular world; what goes around comes back around to us.

 

Jesus told a parable about a man, a King, who entrusted his finances with three people. To one he gave 10 talents, to another 5 and to the third, 1 talent. The first two decided to invest the talents, and the last buried it in a hole. Because the finances grew for the first two, the King was happy, but he was extremely disappointed with the third man, for not doing anything with his part.

 

This story has been told from many different angles. I’ve heard a preacher say that this is a reference to our faith. We need to read and pray every day to strengthen our faith. I’ve heard rich pastors say that this proves that God wants us to have lots of money, that we shouldn’t be ashamed of having money. But I am wondering why was it that the first two invested and the last one didn’t. Was he not smart enough? Did he not know where the bank was?

 

What if this man was handed that one talent and thought, “well, he gave more to the others to hold for him, so he must not trust me. He must not think I’m good enough, smart enough. So, to be sure I don’t prove him right, that I don’t screw this up, I will be extra careful not to lose this one. I will bury it.” Why is this story always used as a scrutiny towards the third man, and not a scrutiny of the King? I know, that is how Jesus was directing it towards his crowd at the time, but I don’t think He will be mad at me for analyzing it a little.

 

The King was mad at the man for not investing the finances, but he did not invest his trust, his respect. There was a study done on school children one time where students who did historically well in class were placed in a class together, and the teacher was told that these were the bad students. They couldn’t pay attention, they didn’t work hard, they were failures. Alternatively, a class was comprised of students who often failed in class, and the teacher was told that they were so smart, quality, well behaved students. I’m sure you know what happened; The first group of students did poorly and the second group did well. It’s called the Pygmalion effect. The product a person produces is directly related to the investment that is made into them. I knew this as a trainer at a bank – the more someone was trained, the more successful they were, the quicker they got promoted. And I felt good at that job. Comedians get it; we laugh, they say more jokes and get funnier, if we don’t, they stumble and want to leave. It’s a simple concept for gardeners too; pick the weeds, water your plants, fertilize them and they will grow.

 

Have you noticed how much I’ve been writing lately? It’s only because people have shown appreciation, and complimented my ability to write, which didn’t used to get recognized much.

 

Give away your trust. Give away your faith in people. As a society, we should give away our acceptance and love. I believe that giving is contagious. Hopefully its as contagious as the plague. What if we gave away recognition to each other, maybe we would make people believe in themselves. What if we gave away welcome to immigrants. Maybe they wouldn’t feel the need to cheat the broken system; they would be a part of it and improve it. And I just have to say, seriously Bush, do you want to pick the fruit in the fields? Are they really taking away jobs? huh? really? It's just fear. Fear of what's uncomfortable, what's new. Fear of failing. Even fear of success.

 

We are so afraid. So, so afraid in this world. Afraid of someone else taking our substance.  You can’t have it. this is just one more thing that we hypocritically teach our children, but don’t apply to our lives – “Share your toys, Tommy. But I don’t want to share my project at work, because I’d have to share the credit. I can’t share my money with the homeless guy on the street, because I won’t be able to pay for your school, Tommy. Of course, I was able to afford that $5.00 Latte this morning” Yes, we will get hurt. Yes, yes we will be burned, screwed, fucked, taken advantage of. Do it anyway, remember you are Christ’s ambassador. He was ready to get hurt for you, so be willing to get hurt for someone else. If we live in Christ, and He lives in us, then nothing we give away was ours to begin with. Don’t you think the King missed his money while it was gone? Well, eventually it will come back around, having been invested, but only by the ones he invested in. The world God created is not a pie.

Here's a little secret: The pie we hold onto is a shit pie. We don’t need a piece of it. The more we hold on to it, the more we think we like it, but at the end of the day, it is SHIT for crying out loud. But when we let it go, God has an endless supply of Pie that He shares with us. Any kind you want. And it won't even make you fat! He even shares it with the people holding the shit pie- isn't that Crazy?

Giving is Grace - Grace is a gift from Jesus - Jesus is saying, “[You] will not thirst, or hunger” without the pie.

Still, even though a gardener knows when to water a plant, they also know when a plant must be transplanted. One plant might thrive in San Diego (mmm, Avocados) and one might thrive in New Jersey (mmm, Blueberries) and one might do well on either coast (mmm… um peaches?). Don’t let your soil kill your belief in yourself. Don’t let your environment destroy your love for yourself. Don’t let the weeds grow around you and suffocate you. If you cannot treat the soil, transplant yourself. If you cannot find a watering can, find rain. If you cannot kill the weeds, pick them.

 If you cannot feel God’s love, show somebody that you love them! 

We were meant for so much more.

buy: More Than Fine by Switchfoot

The Question, The Answer

It’s official! I’m completely addicted to writing. I’m not an insomniac, I am just addicted to thinking and I can’t think when I’m asleep. I slept for about 3-4 hours before getting up to go to the airport yesterday morning at 5:00am, and I thought I’d sleep on at least one of the plane rides, but I didn’t. Then, last night at 10 pm Eastern time I think I finally did it, but my thoughts wouldn’t give up the fight. I woke up 2 hours later, with the unrelieved question still tapping gently at my mind like the legendary torture tactic where soldiers would be placed below a water fountain that would drip slowly onto their foreheads and run down their face until the monotony caused them to go insane. “What is the question that God is asking? Why can’t I understand it? Why don’t I comprehend it?”

 Perhaps one of my favorite lines from a Tom Hanks movie (or any movie for that matter) came from Forrest Gump:

Jenny, I don't know if Momma was right or if - if it's Lieutenant Dan. I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental - like on a breeze, but I - I think maybe it's both. Maybe both is happening at the same time.

I remember talking to my pastor, Rich one time back when I was still learning what it meant to be Christian. I had seen so many Christians in school, who repeated the same lines and said the same things, so I picked up some of those lines myself. Rich had asked me what it was that I wanted to do when I got through school. You know, what my career was going to be. I responded with the typical Christian answer, “well I’m still trying to see what it is that God wants me to do.” I was shocked and moved when he responded, “Don’t you think you could also figure out what you want to do and maybe God will bless that?”

Forrest Gump was so right when he said, “maybe it’s both”. Maybe our destiny is that we float around accidental-like on the breeze. But even then, God conducts the breeze because, after all, isn’t the breeze His orchestra?

The afternoon before I embarked on this journey of self-discovery (or so I hope that’s what this journey is) I sat down on a friend’s couch and happened to grab a book that I used to love to read. It’s a book that I believe to be nothing less than a modern day Psalms, only instead of being written by the struggling King David, who wrestled with God, it was written by a struggling monk who was also wrestling with God. Thomas Merton’s, Dialogues With Silence is a sensational compilation of his thoughts and prayers and some drawings he did while in a monastery in silence.

I don’t know why I chose, now, to add this book to my miniature library that I accumulated while packing for this trip (which includes David Sheff’s Beautiful Boy, Tolstoy’s The Kingdom of God is Within you, and J.D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye.- which by the way is chosen simply because I faked my way through it in High school and have always wanted to read it; not because I am a depressed lunatic that carries it around everywhere). So, when my journal opened up inadvertently to a page that read, “Dialogues With Silence, Pg 75 – Why is it so dark?” I found it, let’s say, fortuitous that I had brought this book with me. At what is now 4:45 in the morning, I relinquish the idea that I was fortunate to have this book in my bag, because were it not for this book’s presence, I would not have been asking myself this question that pulled at my closed eyelids as I was sleeping. I would have read the journal entry and passed it on by.

So rather than fortune, curse found me; A beautiful curse, though. A curse that only at 2:30 in the morning could I finally conceive its purpose. Only in the darkness can I comprehend its grand meaning: If I am floating on the breeze, then God guided that breeze to this book. He guided me to this book which led me to the question of the day – maybe the question not just of this day, but of this journey I am on. A question that God asks me, but I do not know how to answer nor do I know how to comprehend it. A question that woke me, and a question that now, as the first birds begin singing in the morning, I am beginning to comprehend, but still cannot answer. Could this be the question? If I am right about the breeze and it led me to this book and this page, maybe the breeze too led me to a conversation with my pastor years ago. And in one of Rich’s profound moments (which he has a lot of by the way) he actually helped me initiate a shotgun start for this journey I am now on. A journey within a journey – because life itself has always been, is, and will be a journey.

While I wrestled with God, questioning why He, The Ocean, destroyed my sand castles, my plans, and while I reflected on childhood, and while I dreamed of the special power to fly again, and while I packed my backpack for this trip and while I said goodbye to my friends as if it were the last time I’d see them, still not understanding why it felt like that, I was becoming one with the breeze. I was preparing to go with the wind. I was summoning up the courage to ask God one more time, with expectation for disappointment and frustration, “What is your plan for me?”

As Christians say, God is good… at the question game. God is the king of improve. He’s the Improv god (sorry Daniel, I used to think you were the improv god). I like playing improve games too. I love the question game – a storyline played out only using questions for conversation. But I can’t stand when people I play against find the easiest ways out. Here’s an example of someone I don’t like playing the game with (person B): 

Person A: What are you doing to night?”

Person B: Don’t you know?

or

Person A: Are you going to the show tonight?

Person B: Are you?

See, there is a way to play the game where person B can actually in part answer the question with a question, thus creating conversation:

Person A: What are you doing tonight?

Person B: Didn’t  I tell you I’m going to the show?

Person A: Which show was that?

Person B: Have you heard of Wicked?

Person A: Is that the show about the Witch in Wizard of Oz?

Person B: Oh, did you see them talking about it on Jay Leno last night?

On and on. Yeah, God is good at this game. So, when I ask, “God, what is your plan for me?” his answer is, “What do you want it to be?”

 

And the game has begun.

Buy: Beautiful Boy, Dialogues With Silence, The Kingdom of God is Within You

Being a Prodigal - journal entry from 9/2006

Prodigal - n. A person who spends, or has spent, his or her money or substance with wasteful extravagance; spendthrift.

What is my substance? Have I spent it well? I just came across these thoughts that I wrote in a notebook about a year ago, and they've gotten me thinking again:

September, 2006

Does fairness really matter to God? I grew up thinking so. Being the youngest of three brothers, fairness was what I used to try and get my way. If my brother got it, I needed it too. Of course, I always thought I had the short end of the stick. You couldn't convince me that I was the spoiled younger brother. I remember one summer in high school, I worked with my dad off an on in our backyard. We were layering the hillside with these cement retaining walls. My duty was to carry huge cement blocks, and bags of concrete from the front yard to the hill so that Dad could build the walls. I worked for $5 an hour, which I felt I was doing partially as charity. Feeling like I had done something good with my time all summer, I felt very disappointed at the end of the summer when my brother was awarded with his own computer, but I didn't think he earned it. I didn't think it was fair.

About a year ago, I was in an art class, and I was given an assignment to go to a local a

rt museum and analyze a painting. I went to the Timken Museum of Art in Balboa park and I stumbled upon this painting of The Prodigal Son. I knew the story from the Bible, and I began to think about what was going on in this painting. After a minute or so, I started to get frustrated because I realized this paining was missing an important character; the brother. I thought, "how can they leave out the son who had been there all along, who had stayed and tended the flocks and worked so hard?" At first, I related to this brother - not in the sense that my brother is a prodigal or anything, but in the sense that I felt it was so unfair. Then I began to tell the story over again in my head. I remembered the point of the story. I remembered how at the end of the story, the father told the other son, "look, your brother is back. This is something to rejoice over." But I don't know that the other brother could have been satisfied with that. How would he let go of the unfairness? How could he be happy that his son, who had basically stolen from his father, was now welcomed with a feast? 

I wrote my paper and continued to struggle with this for a few months. Then, one day I was riding with a married couple who goes to my church and I just felt like asking them a question that I always wondered about. I asked, "How do you two handle finances. I mean, if one of you wants to buy a new toy or go out with a friend for a dinner, how do you justify it? Is it a Quid pro quo deal?" I felt certain that this is how it worked for couples, but the wife gave me a surprising answer. She said, "We don't really see it that way. You see, we're a team, not opponents. When he wanted to get his pilot's license, I knew it would make him happy, so it makes me happy. But I didn't need something in return to make it fair." 

This conversation continued and made me think for weeks. I thought, what if I used this mentality towards my family? I realized that my family is my team. Whatever things my brother experienced, that I didn't get to experience helped him to be who he is- and that's a win for our team.

So here's the point after all of that. I have had a lot of conversations lately about Hell. I struggle with the idea that it even exists or that people go there. In all my conversations, the argument I hear is that it wouldn't be fair if everyone got to go to heaven. I began to think, if God wants us to be a community, to be a church family, then why are we so bent on excluding each other from God's grace? Why do some churches call this a "race"? Doesn't God want us to be a team with all the people around us? It shouldn't be about what's fair, but it should just be about grace.

________________________________________________________________________

* It's been over a year since I wrote this, and some thoughts have changed. I got to thinking lately that I have not been really living out my beliefs in regards to fairness. I still struggle with my desire to have what everyone else has, because it's only fair. Because of this, I have not fully given of myself the way I should as a Christian. Maybe after all, it turns out that I am the prodigal son myself. I am him because I have been squandering my substance; the ability that God gave me to give love and give grace on a daily basis.