The above phrase is one which I have been hearing a lot lately.
I am currently still in Alaska, now up in Fairbanks for a few days. In short, Fairbanks is a town where the average age is significantly higher than anywhere else I have lived. Particularly, this can be seen at the church which my Grandmother attends. I am fairly certain that there were only four other individuals in this congregation that were not either actively planning for or in the midst of their retirement.
With this in mind, it makes sense that I would be hearing "the young people" quite often. Indeed, every conversation I had with one of my grandmother's friends labeled me as a member of this group. To clarify, this group is much broader than most of you are probably thinking. Whereas I once thought I was on the north end of this particular demographic, I have since learned that my fellow young persons range from teenagers to people in their early fifties. I am honored to be considered a worthy representative of such a diverse group. That was snarky. Please do not think I have an ego the size of Kentucky.
All of the above led to what one might consider a slightly off putting experience. I felt that, due to my age, I was not capable of entering into true fellowship with these individuals. This feeling made it extremely tempting to simply disengage, to come to the conclusion that I was there solely to visit with my Grandmother and as such I should not expect to be nourished spiritually.
This was a silly thought generated by the silly brain of a silly person.
I feel that too often the multi-generational nature of the community of Christ acts as a seemingly impassible barrier to the fullness of fellowship which we have available to us as members of God's family. Blame can be cast in all manner of directions, but just who is at fault for this division is not important. Granted, their are legitimate points which work to create division between multiple age groups. I did not live through the great depression, as my grandparents did. Our grandparents have not been immersed as deeply in a climate in which decades of conflict have created a very complex system of identities related to race, gender, and sexual identity. Whereas my grandmother feels deeply uncomfortable around computers, I have a similar reaction to hymnals. All this taken together creates a situation in which it is indeed difficult for followers of Christ of multiple generations to come together in fellowship.
These barriers to fellowship should indeed be recognized. However, I feel that there is a benefit to a multi-generational community which extends beyond any challenge presented by such a congregation. Such a group provides a persistent reminder that we are a part of a community which has existed for a multitude of years into the past and will continue to exist into the future. Too often, one generation becomes wrapped up in thinking that we are the truly chosen people of God, and that He will do more work through us than He has any other group. This is not, nor has ever been, in my opinion, the way in which God has worked since the coming of His son. We would put ourselves in great danger to think that we do not need the wisdom which has been given to those who have come before us in order to follow after God with all that we have.
It can indeed be difficult to interact with people from an older generation. For example, an older man across the coffee shop I am currently in just used the term "oriental", and I kind of want to hit him. However, as we are so often called to do in our relationships with God, we must be willing to look beyond our initial discomfort with and potential anger towards those who have come before us and see them as members of the same family which we belong to by way of Christ's sacrifice, not in an effort to justify or write off their behavior, but so that we might truly enter into fellowship and begin to shape and be shaped by each other. With this in mind, I will bear the burden of a "young person", with the hope that I can be encouraged by and in turn encourage those who have both come before and will come after me.
With His love and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
Monday, August 30, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Home Sweet Huh?
Along with Jesus, I also love me some Alaska.
I am currently back up north for the first time in almost three years, and it feels...surreal. This town, the place which defined how I grew up and helped to shape me into the man I am today (and provides me with the unending joy of non-stop Alaska jokes), has of course continued to change during my time away. It still feels odd though. Stop lights have changed to roundabouts. I haven't seen a moose since I arrived. People are getting capped at the quaint little mall in South Anchorage (at least now I can be from the streets). All these little changes add up to a somewhat confusing and unsettling experience. Don't get me wrong, it is still very good, but very odd at the same time.
Though this feeling is not my favorite, I wonder if it is not what I, indeed, should be feeling. The question of where my home is has troubled me since I arrived in Washington in the form of little baby college freshman Taylor all those (three) years ago. I think the deeper question at the heart of this where has been what exactly is a home? I think each person reading this is going to have a unique definition for that question, but in the end I think the primary commonality will come down to something along the lines of a place which one can identify with, and in turn a place which shapes the identity of that individual.
This definition in turn begs the question of why a place which has shaped me so much over the course of my life, and that I identify with incredibly closely, should not feel like my home. I think the core issue here is that the place which I am trying to claim as my home is earthly. Being of the earth, Alaska can only define so much of my identity. As children of God, we have the opportunity to recognize our heavenly citizenship, embracing a home which allows us to shape the pieces of our identity which cannot be understood or clarified by a worldview confined to a mortal perception. This is a truly beautiful thing, and I want to make sure that it is known that this is not limited to only a certain group. This opportunity is available to everyone.
The more I have thought on this, the more comfortable I become with this rather odd feeling that comes along with my return to Alaska. Indeed, as I begin to recognize my identity as a visitor of sorts here on Earth, it makes sense that I am not going to be able to find all that I need to define myself here in the place I once considered my home. I will always hold Alaska dear to my heart, but I need to be willing to let go of my past if I am going to understand who it is that I am meant to be.
I think, as many of this blog's readers identify with the group known as "college aged", this is something that must be examined. As we begin to potentially become more distant from the places which have worked to define who we are, we must be willing to ask why it is that those places are important to us, and why we choose to attempt to maintain connections with those places (if indeed we do). So I take the opportunity to invite you all to join me in asking just where our home is, and maybe taking that first, sometimes uncomfortable step away from what we have allowed to define us throughout our lives.
With His love and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
I am currently back up north for the first time in almost three years, and it feels...surreal. This town, the place which defined how I grew up and helped to shape me into the man I am today (and provides me with the unending joy of non-stop Alaska jokes), has of course continued to change during my time away. It still feels odd though. Stop lights have changed to roundabouts. I haven't seen a moose since I arrived. People are getting capped at the quaint little mall in South Anchorage (at least now I can be from the streets). All these little changes add up to a somewhat confusing and unsettling experience. Don't get me wrong, it is still very good, but very odd at the same time.
Though this feeling is not my favorite, I wonder if it is not what I, indeed, should be feeling. The question of where my home is has troubled me since I arrived in Washington in the form of little baby college freshman Taylor all those (three) years ago. I think the deeper question at the heart of this where has been what exactly is a home? I think each person reading this is going to have a unique definition for that question, but in the end I think the primary commonality will come down to something along the lines of a place which one can identify with, and in turn a place which shapes the identity of that individual.
This definition in turn begs the question of why a place which has shaped me so much over the course of my life, and that I identify with incredibly closely, should not feel like my home. I think the core issue here is that the place which I am trying to claim as my home is earthly. Being of the earth, Alaska can only define so much of my identity. As children of God, we have the opportunity to recognize our heavenly citizenship, embracing a home which allows us to shape the pieces of our identity which cannot be understood or clarified by a worldview confined to a mortal perception. This is a truly beautiful thing, and I want to make sure that it is known that this is not limited to only a certain group. This opportunity is available to everyone.
The more I have thought on this, the more comfortable I become with this rather odd feeling that comes along with my return to Alaska. Indeed, as I begin to recognize my identity as a visitor of sorts here on Earth, it makes sense that I am not going to be able to find all that I need to define myself here in the place I once considered my home. I will always hold Alaska dear to my heart, but I need to be willing to let go of my past if I am going to understand who it is that I am meant to be.
I think, as many of this blog's readers identify with the group known as "college aged", this is something that must be examined. As we begin to potentially become more distant from the places which have worked to define who we are, we must be willing to ask why it is that those places are important to us, and why we choose to attempt to maintain connections with those places (if indeed we do). So I take the opportunity to invite you all to join me in asking just where our home is, and maybe taking that first, sometimes uncomfortable step away from what we have allowed to define us throughout our lives.
With His love and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
Monday, August 16, 2010
Your Airport Self
If you have spent time in Seatac airport this weekend, I probably creeped on you at some point.
Que the background information. I really enjoy airports, mostly because of the fact that one gets raw glimpses of humanity in them. When someone is hurrying for a flight, they forget the fact that hundreds of people are swarming around them, and you get an incredibly brief glimpse of who a person is when they think no one is watching. These people will sometimes surprise you, whether its the little old lady who curses like a sailor and threatens to kill airport staff (only to herself of course), or the guy who is so ripped he could knock me out with his chin crying in the corner while watching Flicka 2. This was even more surprising, as I am not knowledgeable on things Flicka related, and thus did not know that Flicka 2 in fact existed. Apparently horses are involved.
I admit, this is a little bit creepy. However, I think this level of creepiness is something of which we are all guilty. Though I am more than a little bit weird, and often do things that don't make sense to a great many people, I feel that my current examination of other individuals is something of which I am certain I am not the lone practitioner. We, as a collective of human beings, like knowing things, particularly things which we are not supposed to know. The things which we observe others doing in places like airports fall perfectly into that category. In such a setting, we have the opportunity to learn a great deal about someone which they would normally keep from us were we to actually engage them as an individual. In these moments, we do not truly comment on the person we observe, but rather what that person represents.
Being the introspecting individual that I am, this realization inspired me to think on what it is that I represent. I have and will continue to make no secret of my faith (I love me some Jesus), and I hope that I represent that in everything I do. The question that arises for me, though, is how does my airport self represent that which is most important to me? I tend to shy away from clothing which proclaims in neon pink 115 point font that I AM A CHRISTIAN, and walking through an airport proclaiming the love of Jesus might be fun (I also very much enjoy megaphones), the effect would most likely be more negative than positive. Still, the question remains, how do I let that which means most to me show through in my brief, often unknown interactions with people?
The more I think on it, the more I think that this question is fairly unimportant. Indeed, I want my faith to show through everything that I do. However, I have never been one to think that someone can come to understand all that God has for them, the full joy that comes from a relationship with Him in a short, impersonal interaction oriented around something as trivial as a shirt or a tract. God is far too complex, and desires to know each of us far too intimately for any representation of Him which my airport self can provide to be considered worthy.
I am one who tries to look for depth in everything, even something as simple as a brief interaction which two people have in an airport. However, I think I am coming to know that there are indeed some interactions which are truly unimportant. Though it can become easy to get wrapped up in how we are perceived in every single second of every single day, these brief interactions are more often than not quite meaningless. Rather than obsessing over these brief, shallow meetings, I encourage myself, and any who would hear me, to make the effort to truly engage the people around us, and in so doing create the opportunity to share and discuss that which holds importance well beyond this world.
And most certainly beyond this airport.
With His love, and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
Que the background information. I really enjoy airports, mostly because of the fact that one gets raw glimpses of humanity in them. When someone is hurrying for a flight, they forget the fact that hundreds of people are swarming around them, and you get an incredibly brief glimpse of who a person is when they think no one is watching. These people will sometimes surprise you, whether its the little old lady who curses like a sailor and threatens to kill airport staff (only to herself of course), or the guy who is so ripped he could knock me out with his chin crying in the corner while watching Flicka 2. This was even more surprising, as I am not knowledgeable on things Flicka related, and thus did not know that Flicka 2 in fact existed. Apparently horses are involved.
I admit, this is a little bit creepy. However, I think this level of creepiness is something of which we are all guilty. Though I am more than a little bit weird, and often do things that don't make sense to a great many people, I feel that my current examination of other individuals is something of which I am certain I am not the lone practitioner. We, as a collective of human beings, like knowing things, particularly things which we are not supposed to know. The things which we observe others doing in places like airports fall perfectly into that category. In such a setting, we have the opportunity to learn a great deal about someone which they would normally keep from us were we to actually engage them as an individual. In these moments, we do not truly comment on the person we observe, but rather what that person represents.
Being the introspecting individual that I am, this realization inspired me to think on what it is that I represent. I have and will continue to make no secret of my faith (I love me some Jesus), and I hope that I represent that in everything I do. The question that arises for me, though, is how does my airport self represent that which is most important to me? I tend to shy away from clothing which proclaims in neon pink 115 point font that I AM A CHRISTIAN, and walking through an airport proclaiming the love of Jesus might be fun (I also very much enjoy megaphones), the effect would most likely be more negative than positive. Still, the question remains, how do I let that which means most to me show through in my brief, often unknown interactions with people?
The more I think on it, the more I think that this question is fairly unimportant. Indeed, I want my faith to show through everything that I do. However, I have never been one to think that someone can come to understand all that God has for them, the full joy that comes from a relationship with Him in a short, impersonal interaction oriented around something as trivial as a shirt or a tract. God is far too complex, and desires to know each of us far too intimately for any representation of Him which my airport self can provide to be considered worthy.
I am one who tries to look for depth in everything, even something as simple as a brief interaction which two people have in an airport. However, I think I am coming to know that there are indeed some interactions which are truly unimportant. Though it can become easy to get wrapped up in how we are perceived in every single second of every single day, these brief interactions are more often than not quite meaningless. Rather than obsessing over these brief, shallow meetings, I encourage myself, and any who would hear me, to make the effort to truly engage the people around us, and in so doing create the opportunity to share and discuss that which holds importance well beyond this world.
And most certainly beyond this airport.
With His love, and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
Monday, August 9, 2010
Waiting on Jesus Like We Wait on the Reaper
Jesus and death have a lot in common.
Now let us not get too existential here. There is a particular similarity which I want to focus on which can be found between Jesus and death. Both of the (I will call them) figures which I am going to discuss are incredibly complicated, but I want to limit myself today to talking about the way in which we wait for both of the subjects of this writing.
Understanding here will be impossible to the fullest extent without some background information. This weekend, I received a call informing me that my Grandfather had undergone emergency surgery, and was at the time hooked up to a ventilator. Doctors did not have hopes that he was going to be able to recover. My Grandfather is the first family member who's death I have had to begin the process of coming to terms with, so having his potential death come at me much sooner than I was expecting was indeed difficult.
My own personal pain is not what I want to talk about right now though. There will be plenty of time for me to contemplate that, but seeing as how my Grandfather did indeed survive his surgery, that particular time of reflection can wait. Instead, I am going to look at the effect which the imminence of death had on my life. Death is not something I dwell on often, but when confronted with it, I found that it dramatically effected every part of my day. I dreaded every phone call, thinking it would be the one telling me that a man I am deeply inspired by was gone. I kept myself from doing things so that I could be available to console those who would need what little comfort I could provide. My prayer, too, were effected, with my focus turning completely to the situation, and that God's will, whatever that may be (a painful thing to pray), would be done. I cannot say that everyone will react in this same way, but if nothing else my experience can be an example of death consuming almost all aspects of someone's life.
In thinking of Christ, particularly His imminent return, I find many parallels to this. Like death, I think that we tend not to want to think of Jesus' second coming. This event represents such a monumental change in our lives that it makes us uncomfortable to the point of inspiring avoidance. However, when we reflect on the second coming of Jesus, truly reflect, we find another commonality in that the thought Jesus' return dramatically impacts that way in which we live. We develop (at least hopefully) a sense of urgency in our ministry. We find boldness we did not know we had. Scripture has more weight and inspires us more. I struggle to allow Jesus' return to have this kind of impact on my life, and I am certain I am not the only one, but when we allow ourselves to be fully immersed in the reality that our Savior is indeed coming back, it can and should effect our lives deeply, something which I think we should strive to embrace.
Though there are similarities present between Jesus and death and their impact on our lives, there are equally important differences which must be acknowledged. When we think on death, we dwell on something that brings pain, sorrow, anger (though sometimes joy, but I would question the fullness of that joy for any that are not the one experiencing death). Jesus' return stands in dramatic contrast to these feelings. The idea of our Savior's return brings hope, excitement, beautiful life change, and the fulfillment of love.
We can see from the above examples that there are many things which can grip our hearts and dramatically effect the way in which we live, and this is not necessarily a bad thing. We should allow our selves to feel emotion, both positive and negative. However, when we have the opportunity to choose that which we will focus on, I think it is infinitely better that we fix our eyes, our thoughts, our very souls on the compelling being who brings a hope and joy unlike anything else that could occupy our minds.
With His love, and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
Now let us not get too existential here. There is a particular similarity which I want to focus on which can be found between Jesus and death. Both of the (I will call them) figures which I am going to discuss are incredibly complicated, but I want to limit myself today to talking about the way in which we wait for both of the subjects of this writing.
Understanding here will be impossible to the fullest extent without some background information. This weekend, I received a call informing me that my Grandfather had undergone emergency surgery, and was at the time hooked up to a ventilator. Doctors did not have hopes that he was going to be able to recover. My Grandfather is the first family member who's death I have had to begin the process of coming to terms with, so having his potential death come at me much sooner than I was expecting was indeed difficult.
My own personal pain is not what I want to talk about right now though. There will be plenty of time for me to contemplate that, but seeing as how my Grandfather did indeed survive his surgery, that particular time of reflection can wait. Instead, I am going to look at the effect which the imminence of death had on my life. Death is not something I dwell on often, but when confronted with it, I found that it dramatically effected every part of my day. I dreaded every phone call, thinking it would be the one telling me that a man I am deeply inspired by was gone. I kept myself from doing things so that I could be available to console those who would need what little comfort I could provide. My prayer, too, were effected, with my focus turning completely to the situation, and that God's will, whatever that may be (a painful thing to pray), would be done. I cannot say that everyone will react in this same way, but if nothing else my experience can be an example of death consuming almost all aspects of someone's life.
In thinking of Christ, particularly His imminent return, I find many parallels to this. Like death, I think that we tend not to want to think of Jesus' second coming. This event represents such a monumental change in our lives that it makes us uncomfortable to the point of inspiring avoidance. However, when we reflect on the second coming of Jesus, truly reflect, we find another commonality in that the thought Jesus' return dramatically impacts that way in which we live. We develop (at least hopefully) a sense of urgency in our ministry. We find boldness we did not know we had. Scripture has more weight and inspires us more. I struggle to allow Jesus' return to have this kind of impact on my life, and I am certain I am not the only one, but when we allow ourselves to be fully immersed in the reality that our Savior is indeed coming back, it can and should effect our lives deeply, something which I think we should strive to embrace.
Though there are similarities present between Jesus and death and their impact on our lives, there are equally important differences which must be acknowledged. When we think on death, we dwell on something that brings pain, sorrow, anger (though sometimes joy, but I would question the fullness of that joy for any that are not the one experiencing death). Jesus' return stands in dramatic contrast to these feelings. The idea of our Savior's return brings hope, excitement, beautiful life change, and the fulfillment of love.
We can see from the above examples that there are many things which can grip our hearts and dramatically effect the way in which we live, and this is not necessarily a bad thing. We should allow our selves to feel emotion, both positive and negative. However, when we have the opportunity to choose that which we will focus on, I think it is infinitely better that we fix our eyes, our thoughts, our very souls on the compelling being who brings a hope and joy unlike anything else that could occupy our minds.
With His love, and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
Monday, August 2, 2010
God's Love/Hate Relationship With Your Cell Phone
Everyone, I am going to ask you to do something that I know is scary. Don't worry though, because I'm doing it to, and we are going to make it through this together. I want us to turn our phones off. Wait! Don't run away, like I said, it is going to be O.K. We'll do it together, I'm right here with you.
My phone is off now, and I hope yours is too, otherwise I just became that weird guy who turned his phone off when no one else did, which would result in me not being one of the cool kids anymore, which would in turn require me to seek asylum in the Ukraine. See, bad things happen when you don't support people.
It is, however, time for me to get to my point. Some of you may have already guessed what that point is going to be, and may be slightly put off. This might seem like it is shaping up to be one of those Christian rants about how modern technology is evil and if we really want to be holy, we have to go back to using chisels and hammers, with our most techno-savvy citizens shattering social norms by way of carrier pigeon.
Most of the time, I feel that those who choose to promote this "simplicity gospel", disregard all the good that has been done for God and by God through the use of technology. From His global Church body to each of our individual lives, I am confident that technology has had a significant impact for the better. However, I think completely ignoring the voice of those who speak against things such as social media, cell phones, and the internet brings with it just as great a danger as blindly proclaiming to all who will listen that the iPhone in their pocket is going to land them a special place in hell next to people who talk too much in the theatre.
The danger of involving oneself in technology too intensely was something that never hit home for me until I heard an interesting point put forward by one of the pastors of one of the Christian groups on Western's campus. This pastor suggested, in a very reasonable way, that the reason the modern Church, particularly young people within the Church, have trouble with things such as understanding God's voice or embracing the gift of prophecy is because of the impact of the "instantization" of communication within our society.
At first, I wrote this theory off as more behind the times drivel from an out of touch old man who didn't understand me at all. The more I pondered this and worked it through with trusted brothers and sisters, however, the more I became deeply concerned about my level of interaction with social media and other forms of often-instanct communication. Has my brain been trained to accept messages only if they are delivered with fanfare and revelry (beeping and pretty colors) in a manner that does not require me to wait for them or allow any anticipation to build? How has this reworking of my thought process, the way in which I communicate, altered (and maybe even cheapened) my relationship with God?
Questions like these, though difficult, are something which I think we must force ourselves to ask. The challenge is, it is even harder to ask those questions when we are fully immersed in the very thing which might be negatively impacting our relationship with God, or, for someone who might not know the Lord, the ability to hear that first, beautiful glimpse of His voice. I am not going to say we should burn all our tech and go back to hand-written letters delivered on horse back. I do, however, think it might be a good idea to leave our phones off for a little bit longer, and hopefully in the process begin to relearn what it means to listen patiently, letting the anticipation build so that when we finally receive the message we have been longing to hear, it sounds all the sweeter.
With His love, and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
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