Mmmmmmm, sweaters.
For most, the season we current inhabit in one which has a great deal to do with gifts, and the giving of such. These gifts take a variety of different shapes. The article of clothing mentioned above tends to make an appearance, though whether they are desired by all remains a debate. Various electronic gadgetry, plastic cards representing great wealth, hand-crafted items (of varying quality), all of these find their places under certain arboreal altars, in abnormally large socks, or at times wooden shoes. We all appreciate the opportunity to receive such wondrous things.
Several questions come along with this season, however. Always present, the question of "why" makes an appearance. Why are these gifts given? A myriad of answers present themselves, be it loving care, social obligation, fulfilling a certain "holiday spirit," what have you. This question deserves an entire discussion of its own. For now, it will get nothing it deserves because it was very bad this year, and instead will be ignored completely.
Thankfully, another question exhibited much better behavior, thus opening it up for examination (as authorized by the strange, "Big-Brother-Esque" law of Christmas). The question which proves more interesting in the moment is how? In what matter, with what attitude are these gifts given? Do we give the gift begrudgingly, with apathy, with love?
There's one gift in particular I'm thinking about at the moment, a gift often discussed in churches at this time of year. The gift of the Christ, Jesus. Many of us just spent (and may still be spending) time singing beautiful centuries old songs declaring the coming of this gift. I myself joined in this very activity not two days ago. Yet, for the first time, I started asking about the nature of this gift. Not the why of Jesus' coming, but the how.
Here's how I think we often think about Jesus' coming to the earth. God, rather than looking like a loving father, appears as something much more sinister. Imagine a man who has just lost his wife, a woman of great means. Relatives and "friends," who only cared about the woman for her money, come around asking what the man plans to do with this, that, or the other thing. They keep asking and asking, he keeps giving and giving, hoping to honor the memory of his lost wife. Finally, so much has been taken that all that remains is his wife's favorite locket, her most prized possession, the very last thing the man has to remember the love of his life. People keep asking about the locket over and over, insisting the man should give it, that it would make them happier than it could make him. After years of asking, in a rage the man hurls the locket at the proverbial vulture, shouting "Fine! Take it, you monster!" The man then retreats to a dark corner of his home, never to be heard from again.
At times, this is the attitude with which we think God sent Jesus. He had seen so many terrible things happen, had so much taken, been wronged in so many ways, but we just kept on asking for more. In our sin, we continually came back and asked for yet another piece of his love. Finally, in frustrated desperation, God hurled his only son down the world, offering up his greatest gift as a last ditch effort, for he had nothing left to offer.
This belief, however, is a lie, one which does us no good to believe. That oft quoted passage tells us that "God so loved the world that He gave His only one and only son," not "to condemn the world the world, but to save it through him." In this verse, and the surrounding narrative of the gospel, I don't see a God who, having exhausted all other options, angrily gives up his son. Rather than a gift of exasperated anger, I see this as a gift undying love. God knew he would have to give his son to show the whole world his love, and Jesus knew he would have to sacrifice himself for that love to be made known. They both made that choice, and they made it for us.
I think this is something worth reflecting on. We do not stand as persistent nags, awkwardly holding God's beloved child as he storms off into the dark. Rather, he invites us to open the gift he has lovingly prepared since long before we were even a thought. This season, better than any, is a time to reflect on the beautiful nature of this gift, and the unceasingly loving heart with which God offers his son to us.
I hope, for each of you, that this time is filled with an abundance of love, whatever form that may take. Merry Christmas.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Monday, December 26, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Look to the sky! It's Unimpressive Man!
To quote a certain mentally deranged Hatter, "It is good to be working at my trade again."
Speaking of trades...
"What do you do?" tends to be one of the most commonly asked questions now that I find myself outside of an undergrad program. Most of the time, I am tragically underwhelmed by my answer. I feel safe making something of a general statement, that being that we are generally unimpressed by what we do. This needs to change.
Let's start with this; if someone were to ask you "What do you do?", what would you want your answer to be? For me, it would be "I'm demonstrating God's love on a college campus while fighting crime in my off time." No, I'm not kidding, I legitimately wish I could spend the four flex hours I have in my internship finding and then in turn combatting all manner of criminal activity. Why do I feel the need to include this strange after-hours addition? Because I don't think what I do in the day-to-day is all that exciting.
Why do I think that? Why do I wish I could be like my friend's friend, who's current mission involves rescuing (a synonym in this case would be kidnapping) children out of the sex trade? Random side note, his wife drives the getaway car, talk about having like minds for service. What is so attractive about that kind of life that makes me lament at the mediocrity of my own service?
In this case, I believe boredom to be a choice. I have chosen to not recognize the (at times incredibly) exciting aspects of what I do. For example, at some point in my time at Western, I've seen people come to know that Lord for the first time. Scripture tells me that all of heaven was throwing a gigantic party when that happened, and I got to be a part of it. My reaction to this news? I gave a resounding "cool." That wasn't my work as a missionary being boring, that was me not letting the amazing work I get to be a apart of excite me. Sure, I'm not punching a drug lord in the face or smuggling Bibles into a closed nation through a network of caves by cell phone light, but when did that become the definition for exhilarating?
I believe the root of all of this comes from a fundamental misunderstanding of where we get our definition of exciting. Thinking on the examples I've mentioned, each one allows for the telling of a tale which carries an air of "look at the this amazing thing I did (for the Lord)." That parenthetical is important, as it too often reflects our attitude towards this type of work. We want that story to be our story, because it makes us more interesting. It's quite easy (tragically so) for God to become an afterthought in the spinning of these epic yarns.
The fundamental question we need to ask, then, is what does God find exciting. Yes, He loves that people are rescuing children from the sex trade. He also loves someone who will go into a nation and lobby for legislation which would crack down on the sex trade to the point that the industry disappears. Great people often don't inspire change by chucking a molotov cocktail at a problem. They organize, go for really long walks (or marches, if you will), and speak wisdom at every opportunity. They talk to the right people and inspire change a gunshot or a getaway care never could.
I believe that certain times call for both of these approaches, the dramatic and the seemingly unimpressive. Woe to us, though, if we make what we see as "exciting" the go-to response for every incident. What we truly need is wisdom, the wisdom to determine how we can best serve right where we are, as opposed to constantly dreaming for that more "exciting" future. Maybe we'll be blessed with the opportunity to be astounding, or maybe not. Either way, we need to do something. We choose whether or not that something is exciting.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Speaking of trades...
"What do you do?" tends to be one of the most commonly asked questions now that I find myself outside of an undergrad program. Most of the time, I am tragically underwhelmed by my answer. I feel safe making something of a general statement, that being that we are generally unimpressed by what we do. This needs to change.
Let's start with this; if someone were to ask you "What do you do?", what would you want your answer to be? For me, it would be "I'm demonstrating God's love on a college campus while fighting crime in my off time." No, I'm not kidding, I legitimately wish I could spend the four flex hours I have in my internship finding and then in turn combatting all manner of criminal activity. Why do I feel the need to include this strange after-hours addition? Because I don't think what I do in the day-to-day is all that exciting.
Why do I think that? Why do I wish I could be like my friend's friend, who's current mission involves rescuing (a synonym in this case would be kidnapping) children out of the sex trade? Random side note, his wife drives the getaway car, talk about having like minds for service. What is so attractive about that kind of life that makes me lament at the mediocrity of my own service?
In this case, I believe boredom to be a choice. I have chosen to not recognize the (at times incredibly) exciting aspects of what I do. For example, at some point in my time at Western, I've seen people come to know that Lord for the first time. Scripture tells me that all of heaven was throwing a gigantic party when that happened, and I got to be a part of it. My reaction to this news? I gave a resounding "cool." That wasn't my work as a missionary being boring, that was me not letting the amazing work I get to be a apart of excite me. Sure, I'm not punching a drug lord in the face or smuggling Bibles into a closed nation through a network of caves by cell phone light, but when did that become the definition for exhilarating?
I believe the root of all of this comes from a fundamental misunderstanding of where we get our definition of exciting. Thinking on the examples I've mentioned, each one allows for the telling of a tale which carries an air of "look at the this amazing thing I did (for the Lord)." That parenthetical is important, as it too often reflects our attitude towards this type of work. We want that story to be our story, because it makes us more interesting. It's quite easy (tragically so) for God to become an afterthought in the spinning of these epic yarns.
The fundamental question we need to ask, then, is what does God find exciting. Yes, He loves that people are rescuing children from the sex trade. He also loves someone who will go into a nation and lobby for legislation which would crack down on the sex trade to the point that the industry disappears. Great people often don't inspire change by chucking a molotov cocktail at a problem. They organize, go for really long walks (or marches, if you will), and speak wisdom at every opportunity. They talk to the right people and inspire change a gunshot or a getaway care never could.
I believe that certain times call for both of these approaches, the dramatic and the seemingly unimpressive. Woe to us, though, if we make what we see as "exciting" the go-to response for every incident. What we truly need is wisdom, the wisdom to determine how we can best serve right where we are, as opposed to constantly dreaming for that more "exciting" future. Maybe we'll be blessed with the opportunity to be astounding, or maybe not. Either way, we need to do something. We choose whether or not that something is exciting.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Monday, November 14, 2011
Devotional Time...Why Art Thou Dull?
And so the intrepid adventurer set out on his trail. He hoped, in the end, that he would find that ever elusive prize, that thing which we all so desire. A churro. No. I'm lying. He was looking for creativity.
To clarify before we go any further on this fantastically imaginative adventure, we're approaching this from a very Reading Rainbow-esque perspective. That to say, in the famous words of LeVar Burton, "Don't take my word for it." I'm writing about how to be more creative, something which is somewhat ridiculous. I have my definition of creativity, one which is very different from yours (most likely). What I really want to get at for the next while is how can we start developing a faith which goes beyond mere tedium and enter the realm it should have been in all along, the exciting.
To begin, I say we start small. We'll get ourselves some creativity merit badges before we go change the entire world (don't worry, we'll get there). By small, in this case, I mean personal, particularly a personal devotional. Some of us just cringed, and up until about three months ago I would have been right there with you. I can think of few things in modern Christianity which bring more guilt than the infamous "devo time." Why the guilt? Because we rarely keep a time like this, but everyone tells us we should. Why are we terrible at it? Probably because most of the time it's extremely boring.
Part of this boredom comes from our unfulfilled expectations on what these times are supposed to be. When people talk about devotional times, it generally carries a flavor of an obscenely spiritual experience. They woke up at 4am (because of course a proper devotional time can only be done at a preposterous hour), opened their Bible to a random page, and then the heavens opened and the Lord declared His will for their entire life! AAAAHHHH!.
When this is the glorified example we set as ideal, no wonder we tend to find devotional times so boring. Here would be a typical morning devotional for me. I get up at a certain time, because when I do a devotional is not really important. I open to the book of the bible that I decided to read a while ago on my own volition, not because of a direct audible word from God. I read a few chapters, thank God in prayer for what He does, lift up some concerns, and then start another day in which I will do all that I can to love others as Jesus would.
Underwhelming? Maybe a little. But when I come out of a devotional time, I don't feel condemned for not having an uber God moment every morning. I feel encouraged to live out my life faithfully, and most importantly, I'm willing to come back the next day. The reason I share this is so that we can have a healthy foundation for building a creative devotional time. Some of our ideas will go wonderfully. We'll feel engaged, we'll be excited to press on in the future. Other times, we won't have this excitement. When, however, we prepare our hearts to hear from God in whatever way he wants to speak, be it mundane or explosive, we start off on a much healthier footing.
So, foundation established. What now? Now we change the way we think about God.
Truth; God is a person.
I think this should effect the way we treat a devotional time. These times are not just us reading a book, or writing in one of those journals everyone keeps raving about. Any time spent with God is time spent with a person. So let's ask ourselves this; what would you do with a person? Would you talk to them (and hopefully listen as well)? Would you go on a walk? Would you go to a secret spot that only the two of you knew about? You may be wondering how the Bible fits into this (and yes, the God's word should be a part of a devotional time). What if you didn't know the person that well, but they wrote you a letter telling you all about themselves? That's one aspect of scripture. It's God revealing His persistently loving character on every page. When we let God be the person He is, I believe our time with Him will start to be a lot less boring. He's an exciting guy, we just need to take the time to realize it.
This only represents my thinking, however. I never did many group projects as a history major, but now seems like a good time to start. I would love to hear what has worked for you in your devotional time. What do you do to challenge those moments when things start to get stale, repetitive, boring? How do you let God be interesting? Let's all give each other a hand and be the community God wants us to be, one which helps each other to love Him better.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
To clarify before we go any further on this fantastically imaginative adventure, we're approaching this from a very Reading Rainbow-esque perspective. That to say, in the famous words of LeVar Burton, "Don't take my word for it." I'm writing about how to be more creative, something which is somewhat ridiculous. I have my definition of creativity, one which is very different from yours (most likely). What I really want to get at for the next while is how can we start developing a faith which goes beyond mere tedium and enter the realm it should have been in all along, the exciting.
To begin, I say we start small. We'll get ourselves some creativity merit badges before we go change the entire world (don't worry, we'll get there). By small, in this case, I mean personal, particularly a personal devotional. Some of us just cringed, and up until about three months ago I would have been right there with you. I can think of few things in modern Christianity which bring more guilt than the infamous "devo time." Why the guilt? Because we rarely keep a time like this, but everyone tells us we should. Why are we terrible at it? Probably because most of the time it's extremely boring.
Part of this boredom comes from our unfulfilled expectations on what these times are supposed to be. When people talk about devotional times, it generally carries a flavor of an obscenely spiritual experience. They woke up at 4am (because of course a proper devotional time can only be done at a preposterous hour), opened their Bible to a random page, and then the heavens opened and the Lord declared His will for their entire life! AAAAHHHH!.
When this is the glorified example we set as ideal, no wonder we tend to find devotional times so boring. Here would be a typical morning devotional for me. I get up at a certain time, because when I do a devotional is not really important. I open to the book of the bible that I decided to read a while ago on my own volition, not because of a direct audible word from God. I read a few chapters, thank God in prayer for what He does, lift up some concerns, and then start another day in which I will do all that I can to love others as Jesus would.
Underwhelming? Maybe a little. But when I come out of a devotional time, I don't feel condemned for not having an uber God moment every morning. I feel encouraged to live out my life faithfully, and most importantly, I'm willing to come back the next day. The reason I share this is so that we can have a healthy foundation for building a creative devotional time. Some of our ideas will go wonderfully. We'll feel engaged, we'll be excited to press on in the future. Other times, we won't have this excitement. When, however, we prepare our hearts to hear from God in whatever way he wants to speak, be it mundane or explosive, we start off on a much healthier footing.
So, foundation established. What now? Now we change the way we think about God.
Truth; God is a person.
I think this should effect the way we treat a devotional time. These times are not just us reading a book, or writing in one of those journals everyone keeps raving about. Any time spent with God is time spent with a person. So let's ask ourselves this; what would you do with a person? Would you talk to them (and hopefully listen as well)? Would you go on a walk? Would you go to a secret spot that only the two of you knew about? You may be wondering how the Bible fits into this (and yes, the God's word should be a part of a devotional time). What if you didn't know the person that well, but they wrote you a letter telling you all about themselves? That's one aspect of scripture. It's God revealing His persistently loving character on every page. When we let God be the person He is, I believe our time with Him will start to be a lot less boring. He's an exciting guy, we just need to take the time to realize it.
This only represents my thinking, however. I never did many group projects as a history major, but now seems like a good time to start. I would love to hear what has worked for you in your devotional time. What do you do to challenge those moments when things start to get stale, repetitive, boring? How do you let God be interesting? Let's all give each other a hand and be the community God wants us to be, one which helps each other to love Him better.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Monday, November 7, 2011
Denying the Thumb-Twiddling God of Our Imaginations
When did God get boring?
I've been thinking about creativity lately. Ever since I had the opportunity to come on staff with Illuminate Magazine, a literary journal we publish here at WWU, I find myself regularly challenged with new and exciting ways in which God chooses to present Himself. Over the years, it's become increasingly impossible for me to find God to be droll. I think, though, that I don't share this voewpoint with a great many people.
If I may; an exploration on how many people view the concept of "worship," specifically the "to God" variety.
One enters a building (be it large or small) and sees two distinct groups of people, one quite genuinely excited to be present, and another largely ambivalent towards the experience as a whole. After moving amongst these groups, one enters into a particular room, in which a ritual takes place. This ritual, whatever it may consist of, is quite similar from week to week. If that description seemed, I don't know, boring (as it did to me), that's because tragically this is the case for many worship services across the nation. Even more tragic, I find that a good deal of people find this same experience to be characteristic of all manner of settings focused on God:
Personal Devotion: Boring
Small Group: Trés Boring
Opportunities for Service: Good for a time, but after a while? Boring (Oh look, a trend!)
Though I have a hard time relating to this experience (as I've simply been blessed with some wonderfully engaging communities), I think at some point anyone involved in a church community has either experienced or heard this lament from someone they know.
The most saddening thing about this predicament is that God's character represents the antithesis of our experience. Here are some things I come up with off the top of my head, examples of God's astounding creativity.
The World
Billions upon billions of unique personalities embodied in people over millennia.
The Tabernacle (take a look at Exodus, that thing is amazing).
My personal favorite: The narrative of scripture as a whole. Sure, it comes in a bunch of different books, but taken together it represents one single love story told over thousands of years. Absolutely beautiful, and fantastically creative.
The thing that strikes me about each of these examples is that God didn't wait for anyone's permission to start being creative. No one came along and said, "Okay God, we (the ever-ominous committee) have decided things need to be spiced up a bit." He just went ahead and did it. I think we could do with a bit of that initiative.
But wait, we wonder, we're not God. How are we supposed to start being creative on that kind of a scale?
I'm not saying that each of us needs to go and make our own planet. In fact, don't do that, I would miss you all. No planet making. What would be good, however, is if each of us stopped waiting for something to come along and tell us how to do things in a new and creative way. If our church is boring, why do we just sit there and take it? God isn't boring, so why should His church be? Let's start being bold and making suggestions on how we can make things better. If we can't stay awake through our own devotional times, why do we keep doing the same thing day in and day out, expecting different results?
I've been thinking a lot on this lately, and I think I'm going to keep thinking on it. I'm going to give this whole "series" thing a try. For the next while, we'll look at the different areas of our life, and try to explore ways we can make them more creative. Maybe this'll work, maybe it won't. But isn't that what being creative is all about, trying something in the hopes that things will be better than they were before? With this in mind, I cordially invite all of you to join me on my journey to reconnect with God's creativity. Let's make worshipping Him interesting again.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
I've been thinking about creativity lately. Ever since I had the opportunity to come on staff with Illuminate Magazine, a literary journal we publish here at WWU, I find myself regularly challenged with new and exciting ways in which God chooses to present Himself. Over the years, it's become increasingly impossible for me to find God to be droll. I think, though, that I don't share this voewpoint with a great many people.
If I may; an exploration on how many people view the concept of "worship," specifically the "to God" variety.
One enters a building (be it large or small) and sees two distinct groups of people, one quite genuinely excited to be present, and another largely ambivalent towards the experience as a whole. After moving amongst these groups, one enters into a particular room, in which a ritual takes place. This ritual, whatever it may consist of, is quite similar from week to week. If that description seemed, I don't know, boring (as it did to me), that's because tragically this is the case for many worship services across the nation. Even more tragic, I find that a good deal of people find this same experience to be characteristic of all manner of settings focused on God:
Personal Devotion: Boring
Small Group: Trés Boring
Opportunities for Service: Good for a time, but after a while? Boring (Oh look, a trend!)
Though I have a hard time relating to this experience (as I've simply been blessed with some wonderfully engaging communities), I think at some point anyone involved in a church community has either experienced or heard this lament from someone they know.
The most saddening thing about this predicament is that God's character represents the antithesis of our experience. Here are some things I come up with off the top of my head, examples of God's astounding creativity.
The World
Billions upon billions of unique personalities embodied in people over millennia.
The Tabernacle (take a look at Exodus, that thing is amazing).
My personal favorite: The narrative of scripture as a whole. Sure, it comes in a bunch of different books, but taken together it represents one single love story told over thousands of years. Absolutely beautiful, and fantastically creative.
The thing that strikes me about each of these examples is that God didn't wait for anyone's permission to start being creative. No one came along and said, "Okay God, we (the ever-ominous committee) have decided things need to be spiced up a bit." He just went ahead and did it. I think we could do with a bit of that initiative.
But wait, we wonder, we're not God. How are we supposed to start being creative on that kind of a scale?
I'm not saying that each of us needs to go and make our own planet. In fact, don't do that, I would miss you all. No planet making. What would be good, however, is if each of us stopped waiting for something to come along and tell us how to do things in a new and creative way. If our church is boring, why do we just sit there and take it? God isn't boring, so why should His church be? Let's start being bold and making suggestions on how we can make things better. If we can't stay awake through our own devotional times, why do we keep doing the same thing day in and day out, expecting different results?
I've been thinking a lot on this lately, and I think I'm going to keep thinking on it. I'm going to give this whole "series" thing a try. For the next while, we'll look at the different areas of our life, and try to explore ways we can make them more creative. Maybe this'll work, maybe it won't. But isn't that what being creative is all about, trying something in the hopes that things will be better than they were before? With this in mind, I cordially invite all of you to join me on my journey to reconnect with God's creativity. Let's make worshipping Him interesting again.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Frosted Breath and Happiness
It's dipping into the 40s here in Bellingham, and I couldn't be happier.
No, I don't mean the decade. Sure, I'm sad we don't have the ability to dabble in time travel, but for now I must resign myself to speaking merely of temperature. In short, it's getting colder, and I couldn't be happier. I know I don't share this opinion with the vast majority of the world, something which I've been confronted with increasingly as of late.
Before I go any further, NO, I do not feel this way solely because I am from Alaska. (In frustrated monotone) Just because a place is cold does not mean I in turn must love the cold because I lived there. Also, no one rides moose.
Slight frustration aside, I'm glad people have been asking me why I like the cold, because I've been thinking more as a result (always a good activity, in my opinion). Why is it that I like the cold? Why do I think one of the best feelings in the world is when you walk outside in -15 degree weather and you feel your nose freeze? The more I think on this, the more I realize it's not just a matter of preference. Thankfully, it's deeper than that.
A certain part of the Bible speaks on how humanity has been given "dominion" over the Earth. Other translations say we have been set as "stewards over creation." Both of these wordings suggest some element of control, and shoot dang have we done a good job of living this out. I believe that, most of the time, we (humans) think ourselves to be fundamentally in control of the world. Be it the fact that we control what food comes out of what ground, or that we can harness the power of everything from lumps of coal to the sun itself to power our creations, we usually look around this world and think "yeah, we've got this under control."
The cold slaps this idea right in the face. The cold reminds us that creation should be respected.
Sure, other kinds of weather can have a similar impact. Ask someone who's lived through a hurricane what that experience was like. From what I've learned, it fundamentally changes a person. The cold is unique, however, in an important way. The cold doesn't smack you in the face with how powerful nature can be. It subtly strikes deeper.
Think about what you do when it gets cold. You crank the heat in your house (if you're a college student, you precede this step with a miserable two months of trying not to turn the heat on), you bundle up in all manner of fuzzy and puffy fabrics, and you suddenly love either reading or television infinitely more than you did two months ago because those things aren't outside. We try everything we can to keep the cold away, and yet it never leaves, not until it's good and ready.
We do this because something in us knows that cold can hurt us, even if it isn't overtly threatening. The cold acts as our latent reminder that their are elements to creation that we cannot control. That this world has been made in a way which is somehow beyond us, forever outside our ability to conquer. God made something powerful. This is yet another example of how creation echoes the creator. It is beautiful, it provides, it moves us deeply. It's also a bit dangerous, and calls for us to respect it.
I like to think deeper on things than I need to. Thank you all for joining me in this, my simultaneous assertion that God is really cool, and that I am allowed to like the cold for far more interesting reasons than where I happen to be from. I hope an absolutely blessed winter awaits you.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
No, I don't mean the decade. Sure, I'm sad we don't have the ability to dabble in time travel, but for now I must resign myself to speaking merely of temperature. In short, it's getting colder, and I couldn't be happier. I know I don't share this opinion with the vast majority of the world, something which I've been confronted with increasingly as of late.
Before I go any further, NO, I do not feel this way solely because I am from Alaska. (In frustrated monotone) Just because a place is cold does not mean I in turn must love the cold because I lived there. Also, no one rides moose.
Slight frustration aside, I'm glad people have been asking me why I like the cold, because I've been thinking more as a result (always a good activity, in my opinion). Why is it that I like the cold? Why do I think one of the best feelings in the world is when you walk outside in -15 degree weather and you feel your nose freeze? The more I think on this, the more I realize it's not just a matter of preference. Thankfully, it's deeper than that.
A certain part of the Bible speaks on how humanity has been given "dominion" over the Earth. Other translations say we have been set as "stewards over creation." Both of these wordings suggest some element of control, and shoot dang have we done a good job of living this out. I believe that, most of the time, we (humans) think ourselves to be fundamentally in control of the world. Be it the fact that we control what food comes out of what ground, or that we can harness the power of everything from lumps of coal to the sun itself to power our creations, we usually look around this world and think "yeah, we've got this under control."
The cold slaps this idea right in the face. The cold reminds us that creation should be respected.
Sure, other kinds of weather can have a similar impact. Ask someone who's lived through a hurricane what that experience was like. From what I've learned, it fundamentally changes a person. The cold is unique, however, in an important way. The cold doesn't smack you in the face with how powerful nature can be. It subtly strikes deeper.
Think about what you do when it gets cold. You crank the heat in your house (if you're a college student, you precede this step with a miserable two months of trying not to turn the heat on), you bundle up in all manner of fuzzy and puffy fabrics, and you suddenly love either reading or television infinitely more than you did two months ago because those things aren't outside. We try everything we can to keep the cold away, and yet it never leaves, not until it's good and ready.
We do this because something in us knows that cold can hurt us, even if it isn't overtly threatening. The cold acts as our latent reminder that their are elements to creation that we cannot control. That this world has been made in a way which is somehow beyond us, forever outside our ability to conquer. God made something powerful. This is yet another example of how creation echoes the creator. It is beautiful, it provides, it moves us deeply. It's also a bit dangerous, and calls for us to respect it.
I like to think deeper on things than I need to. Thank you all for joining me in this, my simultaneous assertion that God is really cool, and that I am allowed to like the cold for far more interesting reasons than where I happen to be from. I hope an absolutely blessed winter awaits you.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Sunday, September 25, 2011
"Just?"
Please go pray.
Right now.
Seriously. Please take a moment, think about what you need to be lifting up to God, and take some time to go do that. If you don't consider yourself the prayin' type, this is an invitation to give it a shot. I know for a fact God would love to hear from you. If you don't feel comfortable with that, 'tis ok. If you can find someone praying, maybe go listen to them for a bit. It'll be helpful for what we're going to talk about.
I've been thinking a lot about prayer lately. As I've entered into this internship, it's darn near impossible to to not think about prayer, as there is no way I would be able to do this job to the level I would consider faithful on my own strength. As I've been thinking, I've been paying a lot of attention to how I, and other people, pray. Yes, friends, I've been doin' the creep on yo' prayers. Just a bit, though, don't worry about it. One thing stood out to me as I've examined how we pray.
Think back to the time when you were praying. How many times did you say the word "just?" As in "please just do this" or "just move in this way."
Some of you may see where I'm going with this, and think I'm being a bit nit-picky. Stick with me though, I've been praying (conveniently enough) about this for a while, and I think it's important for us to think about.
"Just" was, for a time, the most common word that came out of my mouth when I was praying. This didn't change until a dear brother of mine called me out on my excessive use of this borderline filler word during a prayer time one day. For some of us, that is what "just" is, a simple filler word. So why, then, am I making such a big deal out of it?
I think "just" sets a very dangerous precedent. When I think about that word, I think of statements like "just enough" or "just barely," things which imply some intense limitations. Thinking back on my prayer, this term came out of a personal fear that God wasn't big enough to accomplish all of the things I felt he had given me to pray for. As a result, I was pretty sheepish. When asking for things in prayer, it was less of a "God, I believe you can and want to do this, so please do it," and more of a "God, I don't know what you're really capable of, so please just do this one thing. If you can. That'd be great. Okaythanksbye. Oh yeah, Amen." That sounds like a pretty weak God I was praying to, someone who isn't really worth praying to at all.
Yet scripture shows me a very different image of who God is, and what kind of power He has. Go give Ephesians 3 a read (you're already on the internet, go ahead and typie type it into that search bar up top). Particularly, pay attention to verse twenty. A God "who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine," now that sounds very different than the God I was praying to.
I consider myself a fairly imaginative person. I think as a people we have the capacity to be extremely creative. We, as a people, are also very good at asking for things. I think if we took even a small amount of time we could, all of us, come up with a huge number of things which we could ask for which would make this world better. I'm putting together everything I can come up with in my imagination, and all of the things which I could ever ask for. What I just read tells me God is bigger than that. I'm going to go ahead and stop and wonder at that for a little while. Give me a minute.
My fear is that we are crippling God by how we pray. The word "just" puts us in such danger to believe that God can only do so much. This means that when the incomprehensibly terrifying things come against us, we're still stuck with a God we don't really believe can handle what we're dealing with. I refuse to believe that.
So here's what I'm thinking. Let's get the word "just" out of our prayer, not to be picky, but to be bold. Let's believe God can do what He says He can do. The next time we pray, and the time after that, and the time after that, let's pray big. Huge. Impossible. Because He can do it.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Right now.
Seriously. Please take a moment, think about what you need to be lifting up to God, and take some time to go do that. If you don't consider yourself the prayin' type, this is an invitation to give it a shot. I know for a fact God would love to hear from you. If you don't feel comfortable with that, 'tis ok. If you can find someone praying, maybe go listen to them for a bit. It'll be helpful for what we're going to talk about.
I've been thinking a lot about prayer lately. As I've entered into this internship, it's darn near impossible to to not think about prayer, as there is no way I would be able to do this job to the level I would consider faithful on my own strength. As I've been thinking, I've been paying a lot of attention to how I, and other people, pray. Yes, friends, I've been doin' the creep on yo' prayers. Just a bit, though, don't worry about it. One thing stood out to me as I've examined how we pray.
Think back to the time when you were praying. How many times did you say the word "just?" As in "please just do this" or "just move in this way."
Some of you may see where I'm going with this, and think I'm being a bit nit-picky. Stick with me though, I've been praying (conveniently enough) about this for a while, and I think it's important for us to think about.
"Just" was, for a time, the most common word that came out of my mouth when I was praying. This didn't change until a dear brother of mine called me out on my excessive use of this borderline filler word during a prayer time one day. For some of us, that is what "just" is, a simple filler word. So why, then, am I making such a big deal out of it?
I think "just" sets a very dangerous precedent. When I think about that word, I think of statements like "just enough" or "just barely," things which imply some intense limitations. Thinking back on my prayer, this term came out of a personal fear that God wasn't big enough to accomplish all of the things I felt he had given me to pray for. As a result, I was pretty sheepish. When asking for things in prayer, it was less of a "God, I believe you can and want to do this, so please do it," and more of a "God, I don't know what you're really capable of, so please just do this one thing. If you can. That'd be great. Okaythanksbye. Oh yeah, Amen." That sounds like a pretty weak God I was praying to, someone who isn't really worth praying to at all.
Yet scripture shows me a very different image of who God is, and what kind of power He has. Go give Ephesians 3 a read (you're already on the internet, go ahead and typie type it into that search bar up top). Particularly, pay attention to verse twenty. A God "who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine," now that sounds very different than the God I was praying to.
I consider myself a fairly imaginative person. I think as a people we have the capacity to be extremely creative. We, as a people, are also very good at asking for things. I think if we took even a small amount of time we could, all of us, come up with a huge number of things which we could ask for which would make this world better. I'm putting together everything I can come up with in my imagination, and all of the things which I could ever ask for. What I just read tells me God is bigger than that. I'm going to go ahead and stop and wonder at that for a little while. Give me a minute.
My fear is that we are crippling God by how we pray. The word "just" puts us in such danger to believe that God can only do so much. This means that when the incomprehensibly terrifying things come against us, we're still stuck with a God we don't really believe can handle what we're dealing with. I refuse to believe that.
So here's what I'm thinking. Let's get the word "just" out of our prayer, not to be picky, but to be bold. Let's believe God can do what He says He can do. The next time we pray, and the time after that, and the time after that, let's pray big. Huge. Impossible. Because He can do it.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
A Total Eclipse of the Point
Sorry, Bonnie Tyler, for taking your song title and tinkering with it. It just fit so gosh dern well. Feel free to send your cease and desist letter to the email on my profile.
With that formality out of the way, let's get to the crux of things.
Some of you may remember a couple of posts ago when I verbalized the fact that I was not going to join in on the current discussion on the nature of hell, something which has increased in fervor since the publication of Rob Bell's Love Wins. I originally mentioned that I hadn't done the necessary reading to effectively enter into the conversation. Well. that's changed, and after a lot of prayer I feel like this is something that would be good to talk about.
What I'm not going to do is tell you what I think of Love Wins. My apologies if this is disappointing, but I think the discussion needs to focus on something bigger than what one person happened to say on this subject. To paraphrase Bell, this is something which plenty of people have put forward before, (paraphrasing over) it just hasn't been as well marketed.
I will say this about the book, it has inspired what could have been a very good discussion. Any time something can get people engaging with spiritual matters is a good thing in my opinion. It gives the opportunity for truth to be shared, for Jesus to be proclaimed, and for His love to be made known. As I said, though, this book could have inspired some really good discussion. We, however, kind of ruined it.
The discussion around this text has made it seem as though hell is an integral aspect to the current work which is happening for God's kingdom here in this world. We've set up a situation in which, if someone doesn't understand hell properly, they will have no hope for living out their life in Christ. In response to that situation, I have a question.
When was the last time hell came up when you were discussing faith with someone?
Sure, the topic may have been mentioned, but I feel like most conversations about who God is and how He desires to know us don't center around hell. The conversations that use hell as a focal point are almost always the most unChristlike things I have ever seen, with the message being made up more of hate and personal bigotry than any expression of God's character (please note, Love Wins and Erasing Hell are important exceptions to this generalization).
Put simply, I think there are much more important things we could be talking about than hell. The love of Christ is so awesome (and I do not use that word lightly in any sense) that it should be enough to fill thousands, neigh millions of conversations. The ability for God to work miraculously in the world through His Holy Spirit (we're talking about divine healing of people's bodies as a starting point) is good for a couple million more. If I had to pick one story to share for the rest of forever, the amazingly redemptive narrative of scripture could easily keep me captivated. With all of this great source material to choose from for our conversations, I fail to see why hell needs to play such a huge role.
There are those, however, for whom the idea of hell is an extremely troublesome sticking point, and I don't want to invalidate that at all. There are those for whom death is an extremely prominent source of fear, and the idea of what will happen when they die must be dealt with before they can engage other aspects of who God is. Even in that situation, though, I feel that hell does not have to be the focus of the dialogue, because it is still better to assert the opportunity which a person has to embrace a relationship with God (gained through His loving sacrifice) than to use fear as an evangelism tool and focus on what will happen if they don't come to know Jesus in this lifetime. Any discussion we have on hell should be pointing towards the amazing, redemptive love of God.
If there is one point which hasn't been debated by people who are on the various sides of the current discussion of the nature of hell, it is that living life for God is infinitely better than whatever alternative might be true. For those who have been misled, Rob Bell does not say that there is no punishment for those who don't accept Jesus' loving sacrifice and embrace their place in God's family. As I understand his argument, Bell asserts that this punishment does not have to be eternal, which is the main sticking point for people. To clarify, even according to the infamous Rob Bell, there is still some manner of punishment for those who don't come to know God. Based on this undisputed fact (at least within the teachings of Christianity), if I truly love people as Jesus loves them, it shouldn't matter to me whether of not hell is eternal.
I should have a heart to keep them from having to experience that punishment for so much as a second.
I honestly hope (but maybe not believe) that Rob Bell is right. I hope that hell is not eternal, and that people, upon seeing the glory of Jesus and having countless opportunities to experience His boundless love will turn to Him. What I have been convicted of, however, is that I am wasting my time if I sit here and let a debate over what hell is or isn't like stop me from going out and loving on people in Jesus' name.
This has happened before, and it will happen again. We can't let issues like this one distract us from the point of the gospel, that being that God loves people and desires to know them. All of us Christ followers believe that. Let's go live it.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
With that formality out of the way, let's get to the crux of things.
Some of you may remember a couple of posts ago when I verbalized the fact that I was not going to join in on the current discussion on the nature of hell, something which has increased in fervor since the publication of Rob Bell's Love Wins. I originally mentioned that I hadn't done the necessary reading to effectively enter into the conversation. Well. that's changed, and after a lot of prayer I feel like this is something that would be good to talk about.
What I'm not going to do is tell you what I think of Love Wins. My apologies if this is disappointing, but I think the discussion needs to focus on something bigger than what one person happened to say on this subject. To paraphrase Bell, this is something which plenty of people have put forward before, (paraphrasing over) it just hasn't been as well marketed.
I will say this about the book, it has inspired what could have been a very good discussion. Any time something can get people engaging with spiritual matters is a good thing in my opinion. It gives the opportunity for truth to be shared, for Jesus to be proclaimed, and for His love to be made known. As I said, though, this book could have inspired some really good discussion. We, however, kind of ruined it.
The discussion around this text has made it seem as though hell is an integral aspect to the current work which is happening for God's kingdom here in this world. We've set up a situation in which, if someone doesn't understand hell properly, they will have no hope for living out their life in Christ. In response to that situation, I have a question.
When was the last time hell came up when you were discussing faith with someone?
Sure, the topic may have been mentioned, but I feel like most conversations about who God is and how He desires to know us don't center around hell. The conversations that use hell as a focal point are almost always the most unChristlike things I have ever seen, with the message being made up more of hate and personal bigotry than any expression of God's character (please note, Love Wins and Erasing Hell are important exceptions to this generalization).
Put simply, I think there are much more important things we could be talking about than hell. The love of Christ is so awesome (and I do not use that word lightly in any sense) that it should be enough to fill thousands, neigh millions of conversations. The ability for God to work miraculously in the world through His Holy Spirit (we're talking about divine healing of people's bodies as a starting point) is good for a couple million more. If I had to pick one story to share for the rest of forever, the amazingly redemptive narrative of scripture could easily keep me captivated. With all of this great source material to choose from for our conversations, I fail to see why hell needs to play such a huge role.
There are those, however, for whom the idea of hell is an extremely troublesome sticking point, and I don't want to invalidate that at all. There are those for whom death is an extremely prominent source of fear, and the idea of what will happen when they die must be dealt with before they can engage other aspects of who God is. Even in that situation, though, I feel that hell does not have to be the focus of the dialogue, because it is still better to assert the opportunity which a person has to embrace a relationship with God (gained through His loving sacrifice) than to use fear as an evangelism tool and focus on what will happen if they don't come to know Jesus in this lifetime. Any discussion we have on hell should be pointing towards the amazing, redemptive love of God.
If there is one point which hasn't been debated by people who are on the various sides of the current discussion of the nature of hell, it is that living life for God is infinitely better than whatever alternative might be true. For those who have been misled, Rob Bell does not say that there is no punishment for those who don't accept Jesus' loving sacrifice and embrace their place in God's family. As I understand his argument, Bell asserts that this punishment does not have to be eternal, which is the main sticking point for people. To clarify, even according to the infamous Rob Bell, there is still some manner of punishment for those who don't come to know God. Based on this undisputed fact (at least within the teachings of Christianity), if I truly love people as Jesus loves them, it shouldn't matter to me whether of not hell is eternal.
I should have a heart to keep them from having to experience that punishment for so much as a second.
I honestly hope (but maybe not believe) that Rob Bell is right. I hope that hell is not eternal, and that people, upon seeing the glory of Jesus and having countless opportunities to experience His boundless love will turn to Him. What I have been convicted of, however, is that I am wasting my time if I sit here and let a debate over what hell is or isn't like stop me from going out and loving on people in Jesus' name.
This has happened before, and it will happen again. We can't let issues like this one distract us from the point of the gospel, that being that God loves people and desires to know them. All of us Christ followers believe that. Let's go live it.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Creation-Carevangelism
I like it when metaphors blend.
In a recent discussion we University Christian Ministry interns had, we dialogued on the notion of evangelism. That word, for anyone who isn't familiar, is essentially used in the modern parlance to mean sharing faith. It can be a lot more complex than that, but at it's base root, that's what I feel it means.
Back to that discussion we were having, though. One important point which was brought up that I particularly latched on to was the question of what our motivation behind evangelism should be. I had the discomforting pleasure of asking myself questions such as am I just sharing my faith to check a box off because it's something I am commanded to do? How broken is my heart for those who don't yet know the Lord? Do I even give a crap that people don't know God?
One image which we used to talk about the idea of evangelism and how we are to go about sharing our faith was farming. Scripture talks a lot about tilling soil, sowing seeds, reaping harvests, etc. As such, it made sense that we would use this sort of imagery to discuss the concept of evangelism.
Some quick background; I haven't had a great deal of "success" (at least as the world would define it) in my evangelistic endeavors. I don't have any grand stories of helping people come to know the Lord, save one, in which I was only indirectly involved. Most of my work for the Kingdom so far has taken the shape of encouraging those who already know God. At times, this makes me feel like I am doing something wrong, as scripture makes it very clear that God is into seeking people who don't have a relationship with Him.
A bit more background; I think caring for creation is extremely important. As I understand scripture, heaven is not some other place, but rather at the end times God is going to restore this earth back to the way in which He originally intended it. Therefore, we can't get away with having the "let's torch this entire world" mentality because we think God is going to just create a new one. It's this belief that helped me make the decision to be a vegetarian, and it's this belief that makes it so that I hate (and I don't use that word lightly) practices such as cash cropping and agricultural abuse of God's creation.
We now return to our regularly scheduled program.
In the midst of our discussion, God chose to bring these two different aspects of my life with Him together. As we used various agricultural images of to describe what evangelism should look like, He grabbed from my mind all of the things I don't like about industrial agricultural, the complete devaluing of the Lord's creation for the sake of feeding the few. Then He had me think about how I am doing the very thing I hate. I have begun to try to cash crop in terms of evangelism.
Based on the struggles with evangelism I talked about above, it has become easy for me to try to push more and more for people to come to know the Lord. Sure, this might seem like a good thing, seeing as how I truly do believe that the best thing someone can do with their life is serve God, but God helped me to recognize that my motivations for evangelism were complete and total crap. I didn't want to take the time to prepare someone for a healthy relationship with God. I just wanted to find all the people who were already prepared and cash in on the crop of their souls. I dramatically devalued people for the sake of my own desire to be able to say that I had brought someone to the Lord.
In short, I almost completely forgot who Jesus is, and how He cares for people.
Yes, Jesus was overt about what He was doing when it was appropriate, but every single time He talks with a person, it is blatantly apparent that He loves them on a level so intimate I can't even comprehend it. He took the time to meet with the people who were completely ostracized from society, not just those who looked like they might be more ready to receive what He had to say. As I type these words, I know I've heard them before, but I love that God cares about me enough and is patient enough to show them to me in a new way that has finally managed to convict my heart on this subject.
So what does this change mean for me? It means I'm going to stop looking to clinch the deal on someone's relationship with God, and start listening. It means I'm going to stop looking for those who seem ready to receive the gospel, and start loving all of the people I've been ignoring for the last couple of years. It means I'm actually going to try to live like Jesus. I want to welcome you into your own exploration of what your heart looks like. Take some time to let God show you what it is that you really think about what it means to share your faith, and who you focus those efforts on. Then let's all ask that tough question of whether or not that lines up with what Jesus shows us.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
In a recent discussion we University Christian Ministry interns had, we dialogued on the notion of evangelism. That word, for anyone who isn't familiar, is essentially used in the modern parlance to mean sharing faith. It can be a lot more complex than that, but at it's base root, that's what I feel it means.
Back to that discussion we were having, though. One important point which was brought up that I particularly latched on to was the question of what our motivation behind evangelism should be. I had the discomforting pleasure of asking myself questions such as am I just sharing my faith to check a box off because it's something I am commanded to do? How broken is my heart for those who don't yet know the Lord? Do I even give a crap that people don't know God?
One image which we used to talk about the idea of evangelism and how we are to go about sharing our faith was farming. Scripture talks a lot about tilling soil, sowing seeds, reaping harvests, etc. As such, it made sense that we would use this sort of imagery to discuss the concept of evangelism.
Some quick background; I haven't had a great deal of "success" (at least as the world would define it) in my evangelistic endeavors. I don't have any grand stories of helping people come to know the Lord, save one, in which I was only indirectly involved. Most of my work for the Kingdom so far has taken the shape of encouraging those who already know God. At times, this makes me feel like I am doing something wrong, as scripture makes it very clear that God is into seeking people who don't have a relationship with Him.
A bit more background; I think caring for creation is extremely important. As I understand scripture, heaven is not some other place, but rather at the end times God is going to restore this earth back to the way in which He originally intended it. Therefore, we can't get away with having the "let's torch this entire world" mentality because we think God is going to just create a new one. It's this belief that helped me make the decision to be a vegetarian, and it's this belief that makes it so that I hate (and I don't use that word lightly) practices such as cash cropping and agricultural abuse of God's creation.
We now return to our regularly scheduled program.
In the midst of our discussion, God chose to bring these two different aspects of my life with Him together. As we used various agricultural images of to describe what evangelism should look like, He grabbed from my mind all of the things I don't like about industrial agricultural, the complete devaluing of the Lord's creation for the sake of feeding the few. Then He had me think about how I am doing the very thing I hate. I have begun to try to cash crop in terms of evangelism.
Based on the struggles with evangelism I talked about above, it has become easy for me to try to push more and more for people to come to know the Lord. Sure, this might seem like a good thing, seeing as how I truly do believe that the best thing someone can do with their life is serve God, but God helped me to recognize that my motivations for evangelism were complete and total crap. I didn't want to take the time to prepare someone for a healthy relationship with God. I just wanted to find all the people who were already prepared and cash in on the crop of their souls. I dramatically devalued people for the sake of my own desire to be able to say that I had brought someone to the Lord.
In short, I almost completely forgot who Jesus is, and how He cares for people.
Yes, Jesus was overt about what He was doing when it was appropriate, but every single time He talks with a person, it is blatantly apparent that He loves them on a level so intimate I can't even comprehend it. He took the time to meet with the people who were completely ostracized from society, not just those who looked like they might be more ready to receive what He had to say. As I type these words, I know I've heard them before, but I love that God cares about me enough and is patient enough to show them to me in a new way that has finally managed to convict my heart on this subject.
So what does this change mean for me? It means I'm going to stop looking to clinch the deal on someone's relationship with God, and start listening. It means I'm going to stop looking for those who seem ready to receive the gospel, and start loving all of the people I've been ignoring for the last couple of years. It means I'm actually going to try to live like Jesus. I want to welcome you into your own exploration of what your heart looks like. Take some time to let God show you what it is that you really think about what it means to share your faith, and who you focus those efforts on. Then let's all ask that tough question of whether or not that lines up with what Jesus shows us.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Sunday, September 4, 2011
My Tongue is Made of Sandpaper
Coarse, that is.
I've been thinking a lot lately about talking. Is that as weird as it sounds? Well, either way, it's been happening. In particular, I've been thinking about the words which I use. More than is usually the case, I seem to have been putting my foot in my mouth, saying things that could be interpreted as being rude or uncaring. Constant self-examination is something I struggle with, so I try to curb these thoughts as much as I can, as they are usually unhealthy. In the midst of all of that introspection, however, God pointed out something in my communication that does, indeed, need to die.
Cynicism. Specifically of the sarcastic variety.
I've noticed that cynicism has become an increasingly wheel-house-eque structure in the tiny little village that is my sense of humor. You have the library of slight wit, the public square of hyperbole, and then the ever-increasing PA system of cynicism which is beginning to be installed throughout the whole place. At first, this didn't seem like too terribly large a deal. A great many of my friends (both those who identify as Christians and those who don't) partake in and indeed glorify this type of humor. It seemed to be a way to deal with so many of the frustrating things in this world. It's harder for something to bother you when you've intellectually torn it down into obscurity.
What are the consequences of this, though? On the one hand, this humor is counter to scripture, which commands me to let no coarse word come out of my mouth. Recently, I've been thinking about a consequence of my cynicism which is even more terrifying than denying God's word.
I could be keeping people from coming to know the Lord by my humor.
Cynicism has an interesting effect. It asserts one as being intellectually superior to the thing which is being discussed. This may not seem as something which would be dangerous. If something is silly, or ill-planned, or poorly executed, what is the risk in commenting on the intellectual deficiency of that particular structure?
What about when someone's intellectual inaptitude has to do with God?
I saw a post recently which drove home how dangerous this type of humor (particularly as it relates to faith) can become. An individual within my sphere of relationships mocked a certain person for thanking both God and Jesus in a certain setting. Oh yes, let the hilarity be known for all those who understand this difference, but what about those who don't? What about those who legitimately don't understand the trinity, who find it to be a major stumbling block in their ability to enter into a relationship with God?
Woe to me (and I mean that in the most serious sense possible) if I ever make someone feel, by way of my cynical humor, that they are intellectually barred from learning about the Lord. I honestly think it breaks God's heart when His children use the knowledge which they have gained through prayer and His scripture to make those who do not know the Lord feel lesser, in any way.
This is one of the hardest words I've ever had to post, because it strikes straight to my heart. It requires of me a constant willingness to guard my tongue, to be persistently mindful of all of those who are around me and how they might interpret what I say. This, to me, is incredibly difficult, but I have been convicted of the fact that it is also incredibly necessary.
I'm tired of ignoring the parts of scripture I don't like. I'm tired of cringing every time I read the book of James because the Lord reminds me (with every ounce of His gentle Love, praise be to Him) of just how poorly I control my own tongue. But how hateful of me to put my personal discomfort over the eternal destiny of another's soul. To any reading this, if I have ever made you feel as though you were somehow beyond God based on what I suggested through my language, I plead for your forgiveness. I may not always communicate this truth well, but I truly believe that God desires a relationship with every single person. Never let anything I say in error make you think otherwise.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
I've been thinking a lot lately about talking. Is that as weird as it sounds? Well, either way, it's been happening. In particular, I've been thinking about the words which I use. More than is usually the case, I seem to have been putting my foot in my mouth, saying things that could be interpreted as being rude or uncaring. Constant self-examination is something I struggle with, so I try to curb these thoughts as much as I can, as they are usually unhealthy. In the midst of all of that introspection, however, God pointed out something in my communication that does, indeed, need to die.
Cynicism. Specifically of the sarcastic variety.
I've noticed that cynicism has become an increasingly wheel-house-eque structure in the tiny little village that is my sense of humor. You have the library of slight wit, the public square of hyperbole, and then the ever-increasing PA system of cynicism which is beginning to be installed throughout the whole place. At first, this didn't seem like too terribly large a deal. A great many of my friends (both those who identify as Christians and those who don't) partake in and indeed glorify this type of humor. It seemed to be a way to deal with so many of the frustrating things in this world. It's harder for something to bother you when you've intellectually torn it down into obscurity.
What are the consequences of this, though? On the one hand, this humor is counter to scripture, which commands me to let no coarse word come out of my mouth. Recently, I've been thinking about a consequence of my cynicism which is even more terrifying than denying God's word.
I could be keeping people from coming to know the Lord by my humor.
Cynicism has an interesting effect. It asserts one as being intellectually superior to the thing which is being discussed. This may not seem as something which would be dangerous. If something is silly, or ill-planned, or poorly executed, what is the risk in commenting on the intellectual deficiency of that particular structure?
What about when someone's intellectual inaptitude has to do with God?
I saw a post recently which drove home how dangerous this type of humor (particularly as it relates to faith) can become. An individual within my sphere of relationships mocked a certain person for thanking both God and Jesus in a certain setting. Oh yes, let the hilarity be known for all those who understand this difference, but what about those who don't? What about those who legitimately don't understand the trinity, who find it to be a major stumbling block in their ability to enter into a relationship with God?
Woe to me (and I mean that in the most serious sense possible) if I ever make someone feel, by way of my cynical humor, that they are intellectually barred from learning about the Lord. I honestly think it breaks God's heart when His children use the knowledge which they have gained through prayer and His scripture to make those who do not know the Lord feel lesser, in any way.
This is one of the hardest words I've ever had to post, because it strikes straight to my heart. It requires of me a constant willingness to guard my tongue, to be persistently mindful of all of those who are around me and how they might interpret what I say. This, to me, is incredibly difficult, but I have been convicted of the fact that it is also incredibly necessary.
I'm tired of ignoring the parts of scripture I don't like. I'm tired of cringing every time I read the book of James because the Lord reminds me (with every ounce of His gentle Love, praise be to Him) of just how poorly I control my own tongue. But how hateful of me to put my personal discomfort over the eternal destiny of another's soul. To any reading this, if I have ever made you feel as though you were somehow beyond God based on what I suggested through my language, I plead for your forgiveness. I may not always communicate this truth well, but I truly believe that God desires a relationship with every single person. Never let anything I say in error make you think otherwise.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Monday, August 22, 2011
From Podunk to Posh
And here I thought I was finally starting to figure out Washington.
This weekend, I had the exciting opportunity to travel down to a town called Lyle in southern Washington, where I was allowed to speak with people about the work which God is doing up at WWU. My time in Lyle, while incredibly encouraging, was also something else I wasn't expecting. Convicting.
To give you an idea of Lyle, it's the sort of town where if you don't pay attention for a few seconds, you'll drive right through it. No, I'm not kidding, because I did exactly that. I had to turn around and everything. When that's your first impression of a town, it's easy for someone coming from a town like Bellingham to develop some negative preconceptions. This got reinforced when I was in front of the Church I was going to be speaking at. It was a simple building, nothing like the grandiose house of worship I attend in Bellingham. Little did I know, however, how God was planning on using this simple setting to speak something beautiful into my life.
God is into doing amazing things in the midst of simple trappings, as scripture reveals. My experience in Lyle was no exception. This outwardly unremarkable fellowship had one of the greatest hearts for worship I have ever experienced. It was refreshing to see how the Holy Spirit could inspire worship that no technical display could ever compare to. In one simple moment, God convicted me of just how much I had let the cultural trappings of academia blind me from the fact that I don't get to dictate what is beautiful in God's eyes.
Yay! Conviction happened! Story over! Oh wait, what? You're not done yet Lord? *Sigh*, O.K.
Before explaining the other part of what the Lord has been teaching me, let me preface with a bit about me. I have always been intimidated by wealth. Something about people who have attained a high amount of capital always makes me nervous. Yes, I know there are both righteous rich and righteous poor, but in my life I haven't met too many (or hardly any at all) of the former, at least not in the terms in which a Western society would define rich.
How fitting then, that now I am staying in Vancouver, Washington, in one of the nicest houses I have ever seen. Let me give you an idea. From where I sit, I can see two different ovens. The internet I am connected to is only good for the North wing of the house. When you get right down to the heart of it, though, a house is nothing without the people living in it. It's those people that the Lord has been using to teach me a great deal.
For example, the man of this particular abode has one of the most generous hearts I have ever seen. Not only is he supporting me incredibly generously for my internship next year, but he has a heart to help others in any way he can. To hear someone say that they're going to make some phone calls to make sure that the people they care about have opportunities to succeed is a model of what it means to use worldly influence with a heart oriented around the kingdom. If I am ever blessed with material wealth and social influence, I pray I can exercise it with the same grace and care I see modeled before me here.
So what have I gained overall from this whirlwind tour of different styles of living? The Lord truly does work through all, and we're doing a disservice to ourselves, and more importantly we're insulting God when we say "He can't work through that person or that situation because of my experience." Woe to me if I try to define what it is that God can or cannot do based on what little life I have lived.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
This weekend, I had the exciting opportunity to travel down to a town called Lyle in southern Washington, where I was allowed to speak with people about the work which God is doing up at WWU. My time in Lyle, while incredibly encouraging, was also something else I wasn't expecting. Convicting.
To give you an idea of Lyle, it's the sort of town where if you don't pay attention for a few seconds, you'll drive right through it. No, I'm not kidding, because I did exactly that. I had to turn around and everything. When that's your first impression of a town, it's easy for someone coming from a town like Bellingham to develop some negative preconceptions. This got reinforced when I was in front of the Church I was going to be speaking at. It was a simple building, nothing like the grandiose house of worship I attend in Bellingham. Little did I know, however, how God was planning on using this simple setting to speak something beautiful into my life.
God is into doing amazing things in the midst of simple trappings, as scripture reveals. My experience in Lyle was no exception. This outwardly unremarkable fellowship had one of the greatest hearts for worship I have ever experienced. It was refreshing to see how the Holy Spirit could inspire worship that no technical display could ever compare to. In one simple moment, God convicted me of just how much I had let the cultural trappings of academia blind me from the fact that I don't get to dictate what is beautiful in God's eyes.
Yay! Conviction happened! Story over! Oh wait, what? You're not done yet Lord? *Sigh*, O.K.
Before explaining the other part of what the Lord has been teaching me, let me preface with a bit about me. I have always been intimidated by wealth. Something about people who have attained a high amount of capital always makes me nervous. Yes, I know there are both righteous rich and righteous poor, but in my life I haven't met too many (or hardly any at all) of the former, at least not in the terms in which a Western society would define rich.
How fitting then, that now I am staying in Vancouver, Washington, in one of the nicest houses I have ever seen. Let me give you an idea. From where I sit, I can see two different ovens. The internet I am connected to is only good for the North wing of the house. When you get right down to the heart of it, though, a house is nothing without the people living in it. It's those people that the Lord has been using to teach me a great deal.
For example, the man of this particular abode has one of the most generous hearts I have ever seen. Not only is he supporting me incredibly generously for my internship next year, but he has a heart to help others in any way he can. To hear someone say that they're going to make some phone calls to make sure that the people they care about have opportunities to succeed is a model of what it means to use worldly influence with a heart oriented around the kingdom. If I am ever blessed with material wealth and social influence, I pray I can exercise it with the same grace and care I see modeled before me here.
So what have I gained overall from this whirlwind tour of different styles of living? The Lord truly does work through all, and we're doing a disservice to ourselves, and more importantly we're insulting God when we say "He can't work through that person or that situation because of my experience." Woe to me if I try to define what it is that God can or cannot do based on what little life I have lived.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Over 2000 Years and We Still Haven't Got It
And we probably never will.
What is this thing we still haven't figured out in such a grand scope of time? An effective, universally accepted method for following after Jesus. I'm talking about doctrine here. Yes, I know, half of you just fell asleep. If you're near one of them sleepy types, just poke them a couple of times. Or don't, I'll leave that call up to you.
Sure, doctrine can come across as being a bit boring. However, I think it's a topic we need to start paying a lot more attention to, particularly if we find ourselves in that fantastically vague group known as "young people." So, if (based on Grandma O'Dell's definition) you're between the ages of 12 and 50, I especially recommend that you keep reading.
The debate over doctrine is nothing new. We've been having arguments about how to follow well after Jesus since the events of the Book of Acts, and it's kept going right up to the modern day. Why has this debate persisted? Because these debates will always persist, in any field, as long as humans are the ones left in charge of running the discussion. Even realms which claim ubiquitous uniformity can't truly make this claim, as "that guy" is always yelling for a different way of doing things, no matter how fringe they may be. Patterns of common practice assert themselves, but total acceptance of one system seems to be impossible, based on my examination.
So why even talk about doctrine? Why frustrate ourselves with a discussion on something that we probably know will never really get anywhere?
Whether we want to our not, this is a particularly necessary conversation for Christianity, because we claim to hold knowledge of something beyond this world. We're dealing with things of eternity, and it's extremely dangerous when we don't agree on something. It makes people doubt that a faith which claims to know the Truth about what happens after we die, and works to explain what happens until we do, actually knows what it's talking about.
A lot of you are probably expecting me to start talking about hell right now. This has been a fairly hot button issue within Western Christianity ever since Rob Bell's "Love Wins" was published. Since then, the idea of hell seems to be something a great many people are interested in. I'm not going to deal with that now, however. That is a discussion I'm still reading the literature on, and thus I don't feel ready to comment. I think there's something in Proverbs to support that, here's to hoping.
Also, I don't think it would be productive to add yet another voice to that particular conversation. I think certain theological issues can be a bit trendy. They get a lot of press for a while, and then die down and we stop thinking about them. Take, par exemple, the issue of whether or not the Holy Spirit is still active in the modern day. Outside of Pentecostal circles, this doesn't get discussed very often anymore. And yet, it is a crucial topic to think on if we're going to follow after God well.
Question; do you think God can miraculously heal people? I mean something along the lines of someone prays and then a person is no longer afflicted by a disease or injury. My answer? Yes. I've seen it happen. Others don't believe this to be the case. They feel that the Holy Spirit stopped working in that way when the original apostles died off. I just made the apostles sound like they were dinosaurs. Anywho. What we think about this point dramatically impacts how we follow God. Chiefly, it governs how we try to love this world, as we are called to do. I believe God can use me to love the world by physically healing it's ailments. Others don't, and I think they're missing out on something.
So what should I do with these people I don't agree with? According to what I see some Christ followers doing, I should actively work to discredit them at every opportunity, be it from the pulpit, at a press conference, even right here on this blog. Let me be clear. This. Is. Stupid. Petty infighting amongst Christians distracts immensely from what our work should be; loving this world and seeking to bring every person into a relationship with Christ. That's all I'm going to say on that particular issue, as I don't want to fall into the very trap I just told myself to avoid.
What do we do, then? We learn how to disagree well, and encourage each other towards the True truth about following Christ.
Yes, I believe the Holy Spirit can do amazing things, and I'm going to encourage others to believe the same, because otherwise I don't think I really believe in what I'm saying. As I encourage people towards that belief, however, I am going to be praying for all the gentleness God can give me. It was said of Jesus that "a bruised reed He will not break." That is the kind of gentleness I hope for, as I encourage others towards what I believe to be properly following after Christ. This is a calling we all need to embrace. In matters of doctrine, we cannot exclude fellow Christ followers from the numbers of those we unconditionally love before all else. We're never going to convince each other of anything, and we're certainly going to bring people to Christ, by way of a yelling match.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
What is this thing we still haven't figured out in such a grand scope of time? An effective, universally accepted method for following after Jesus. I'm talking about doctrine here. Yes, I know, half of you just fell asleep. If you're near one of them sleepy types, just poke them a couple of times. Or don't, I'll leave that call up to you.
Sure, doctrine can come across as being a bit boring. However, I think it's a topic we need to start paying a lot more attention to, particularly if we find ourselves in that fantastically vague group known as "young people." So, if (based on Grandma O'Dell's definition) you're between the ages of 12 and 50, I especially recommend that you keep reading.
The debate over doctrine is nothing new. We've been having arguments about how to follow well after Jesus since the events of the Book of Acts, and it's kept going right up to the modern day. Why has this debate persisted? Because these debates will always persist, in any field, as long as humans are the ones left in charge of running the discussion. Even realms which claim ubiquitous uniformity can't truly make this claim, as "that guy" is always yelling for a different way of doing things, no matter how fringe they may be. Patterns of common practice assert themselves, but total acceptance of one system seems to be impossible, based on my examination.
So why even talk about doctrine? Why frustrate ourselves with a discussion on something that we probably know will never really get anywhere?
Whether we want to our not, this is a particularly necessary conversation for Christianity, because we claim to hold knowledge of something beyond this world. We're dealing with things of eternity, and it's extremely dangerous when we don't agree on something. It makes people doubt that a faith which claims to know the Truth about what happens after we die, and works to explain what happens until we do, actually knows what it's talking about.
A lot of you are probably expecting me to start talking about hell right now. This has been a fairly hot button issue within Western Christianity ever since Rob Bell's "Love Wins" was published. Since then, the idea of hell seems to be something a great many people are interested in. I'm not going to deal with that now, however. That is a discussion I'm still reading the literature on, and thus I don't feel ready to comment. I think there's something in Proverbs to support that, here's to hoping.
Also, I don't think it would be productive to add yet another voice to that particular conversation. I think certain theological issues can be a bit trendy. They get a lot of press for a while, and then die down and we stop thinking about them. Take, par exemple, the issue of whether or not the Holy Spirit is still active in the modern day. Outside of Pentecostal circles, this doesn't get discussed very often anymore. And yet, it is a crucial topic to think on if we're going to follow after God well.
Question; do you think God can miraculously heal people? I mean something along the lines of someone prays and then a person is no longer afflicted by a disease or injury. My answer? Yes. I've seen it happen. Others don't believe this to be the case. They feel that the Holy Spirit stopped working in that way when the original apostles died off. I just made the apostles sound like they were dinosaurs. Anywho. What we think about this point dramatically impacts how we follow God. Chiefly, it governs how we try to love this world, as we are called to do. I believe God can use me to love the world by physically healing it's ailments. Others don't, and I think they're missing out on something.
So what should I do with these people I don't agree with? According to what I see some Christ followers doing, I should actively work to discredit them at every opportunity, be it from the pulpit, at a press conference, even right here on this blog. Let me be clear. This. Is. Stupid. Petty infighting amongst Christians distracts immensely from what our work should be; loving this world and seeking to bring every person into a relationship with Christ. That's all I'm going to say on that particular issue, as I don't want to fall into the very trap I just told myself to avoid.
What do we do, then? We learn how to disagree well, and encourage each other towards the True truth about following Christ.
Yes, I believe the Holy Spirit can do amazing things, and I'm going to encourage others to believe the same, because otherwise I don't think I really believe in what I'm saying. As I encourage people towards that belief, however, I am going to be praying for all the gentleness God can give me. It was said of Jesus that "a bruised reed He will not break." That is the kind of gentleness I hope for, as I encourage others towards what I believe to be properly following after Christ. This is a calling we all need to embrace. In matters of doctrine, we cannot exclude fellow Christ followers from the numbers of those we unconditionally love before all else. We're never going to convince each other of anything, and we're certainly going to bring people to Christ, by way of a yelling match.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Saturday, August 13, 2011
The Most Beautiful Revolution I Can Imagine
We really love humility. Just listen to our culture talk about some its greatest heroes. Sure, sometimes you get the mind-numbingly egomaniacal CEO or sports star, but their legacy tends to fade fairly quickly. Their company goes south, or the 17th season of The Apprentice flops like the 16 before it, or they start making dogs try to kill each other, and they end up drifting into obscurity, bragging the whole way. You want someone with real staying power, someone who won't be forgotten anytime soon, find someone who is incredibly humble.
I learned something interesting about humility recently. Apparently, right up until just under 2000 years ago, humility was not a positive thing at all. The word humility and humiliation in English come from the same Latin root, "humilitas," and ancient culture definitely leaned more towards that latter term. Humility was seen as being in the least odd, at the most morally questionable. Think about that. Today, it's "morally questionable" for someone to have an extra-marital affair. In ancient cultures, we would have put someone saying "I'm not that big of a deal," in the exact same category.
So what happened that changed all this? Why does our culture glorify humility more than almost any other attribute? The Son of God got nailed to a cross. This isn't just a Jesus freak talking. Historical research (check out the work of John Dickson) points to that moment in history as the site of a pivotal shift in our definition of humility. A man who had shown greatness beyond anything people had ever seen was killed in one of the most humiliating ways imaginable. Shoot, in Jesus' own culture, death on a cross was to bring with it a curse. So what did people do when they saw the greatest man they had ever known embrace humility in death? They redefined greatness.
And Jesus' humility was great indeed. We are, in no uncertain terms in my mind, talking about the Son of God, here. That brings with it some pretty cool perks, and more street cred than I could ever imagine (or at least it should). What did Jesus choose to do with this title? He hid it for the majority of his ministry. During Jesus' time of teaching, demons who were afflicting people would try to make those individuals yell out "I know who you are, you are the Son of God!" Jesus' first response was to shut them up.
This seems weird to us, because we have trouble embracing that kind of humility. If we want to do all that we can for the Kingdom in this world, though, this is exactly the kind of humility we need to establish as our norm. Jesus didn't draw thousands to Him by making a huge deal out of Himself. He brought God's truth in the trappings of a carpenter, traveling from city to city and depending on others for His needs.
Make no mistake, Jesus wasn't scared of His title or His calling. He simply knew their was a right time for Him to come onto the scene in all His glory. Start yelling about how you're the Son of God while standing alone on a hilltop, and not many people are going to follow you. On the other hand, spend years healing, loving, and proclaiming hope to a world that desperately needs it, and people are going to start listening when you tell them those things that are a bit harder to believe. Jesus' patience comes from His unbelievable humility, knowing that what He was doing was not to glorify His human form, but to prepare the way so that He could be sacrificed to bring this whole world, right up into the modern day, back into relationship with God. Jesus lived well below His station for over three decades, and He did it out of love for us.
This is the example that we are called to follow, and we are so blessed because of it. The opportunity to accept what Christ did for us us available to all. God so loved the world that He humbled Himself for years, ending His time here in the ultimate act of humility, that we might be saved. We're wasting our time if our service to Him isn't wholeheartedly committed to glorifying His name before all else.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
I learned something interesting about humility recently. Apparently, right up until just under 2000 years ago, humility was not a positive thing at all. The word humility and humiliation in English come from the same Latin root, "humilitas," and ancient culture definitely leaned more towards that latter term. Humility was seen as being in the least odd, at the most morally questionable. Think about that. Today, it's "morally questionable" for someone to have an extra-marital affair. In ancient cultures, we would have put someone saying "I'm not that big of a deal," in the exact same category.
So what happened that changed all this? Why does our culture glorify humility more than almost any other attribute? The Son of God got nailed to a cross. This isn't just a Jesus freak talking. Historical research (check out the work of John Dickson) points to that moment in history as the site of a pivotal shift in our definition of humility. A man who had shown greatness beyond anything people had ever seen was killed in one of the most humiliating ways imaginable. Shoot, in Jesus' own culture, death on a cross was to bring with it a curse. So what did people do when they saw the greatest man they had ever known embrace humility in death? They redefined greatness.
And Jesus' humility was great indeed. We are, in no uncertain terms in my mind, talking about the Son of God, here. That brings with it some pretty cool perks, and more street cred than I could ever imagine (or at least it should). What did Jesus choose to do with this title? He hid it for the majority of his ministry. During Jesus' time of teaching, demons who were afflicting people would try to make those individuals yell out "I know who you are, you are the Son of God!" Jesus' first response was to shut them up.
This seems weird to us, because we have trouble embracing that kind of humility. If we want to do all that we can for the Kingdom in this world, though, this is exactly the kind of humility we need to establish as our norm. Jesus didn't draw thousands to Him by making a huge deal out of Himself. He brought God's truth in the trappings of a carpenter, traveling from city to city and depending on others for His needs.
Make no mistake, Jesus wasn't scared of His title or His calling. He simply knew their was a right time for Him to come onto the scene in all His glory. Start yelling about how you're the Son of God while standing alone on a hilltop, and not many people are going to follow you. On the other hand, spend years healing, loving, and proclaiming hope to a world that desperately needs it, and people are going to start listening when you tell them those things that are a bit harder to believe. Jesus' patience comes from His unbelievable humility, knowing that what He was doing was not to glorify His human form, but to prepare the way so that He could be sacrificed to bring this whole world, right up into the modern day, back into relationship with God. Jesus lived well below His station for over three decades, and He did it out of love for us.
This is the example that we are called to follow, and we are so blessed because of it. The opportunity to accept what Christ did for us us available to all. God so loved the world that He humbled Himself for years, ending His time here in the ultimate act of humility, that we might be saved. We're wasting our time if our service to Him isn't wholeheartedly committed to glorifying His name before all else.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Biblical Men Probably Didn't Smell Like Old Spice
Were my wedding to happen some day (which I hope it does), I would want to have a menu. On this menu would be many options. One of them would be entitled "The Real Man." It would be a tofu dish.
I've been thinking a lot lately about gender, particularly the male variety. A big part of this is because, when working with Residence Life here at WWU, gender is a topic which comes up quite a bit. One of the most common aspects of that conversation is the constructed nature of gender, the idea that one's gender is constantly being refined and shaped by the culture in which one finds themselves. Many coming from a Christian perspective balk at this notion. I, however, have begun to think that it has more legitimacy than many would admit.
Much of this legitimacy can be seen in the effort which is made to assert what the "proper" style of gender is for any particular culture. Take this bottle of Old Spice's attempt, for example.
"Old Spice Denali body wash has a brisk, airy scent that reminds men of wide-open plains, azure skies and a particularly smooth and hydrated mountain made out of skin. Also, this mountain has a cool car."
Knowing anything about Old Spice, it's pretty clear that this is meant to be at least in some way comical. Many (more than we might think, anyway), take this seriously, however. This is what masculinity means to plenty of people, being the proverbial mountain, who also has a cool car. To many, this seems silly, particularly those who attempt to find masculinity in a Biblical manner. The very fact that anyone takes this seriously, though, makes it so that we have no excuse to not engage with this thinking in some way.
More importantly, Christianity cannot critique the idea of gender formation in an unbiassed fashion, if for no other reason than the fact that it is intimately involved in that very same process. The Bible (and more dangerously sometimes our interpretation of it) has a very specific image of what it thinks the terms men and women should mean. Often, this notion clashes with the one put forward by the world. For example, scripture asserts (and I agree) that it is not in fact acceptable for me to hit on everything that moves because I am a man. My culture might say differently, in some cases.
Living in a setting in which I get several very different interpretations of what it means to be a "real man" has inspired me to undertake a great deal of thinking on the meaning of that term. Many people think I don't live up to this idea. Some think this because I haven't had sex (and will not until marriage) since I committed my life to Christ. Other think this because I don't eat meat. Still others feel I'm missing the mark because of my understanding of how genders should interact. Whatever the case may be, it is hardly an easy task for an individual, using myself as a case study, to interpret what it means to be a "real man."
I say most of this because this is a conversation I think the Church needs to get into. I wholeheartedly believe in the model of masculinity put forward in scripture. The tough part is figuring out how to live that out in a way that doesn't completely ostracize me from society. It is too simple, and tragically unloving, for me to simply say "I am male, which means 'x', 'y', and 'z', and if you think differently your wrong and stupid." When Christ followers begin to explore the meaning and purpose behind the Biblical understanding of gender, I believe that the opportunity will come about which will allow God's understanding of gender to not be what our culture sees it as, an archaic, tragically heavy-handed power dynamic. God is not in the business of draconically subverting people. He is in the business of loving them. Entering into the current conversation on gender in a healthy way will allow the Church to show the world just that.
So enjoy "The Real Man", not the tofu dish, but the person. Made with love.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
I've been thinking a lot lately about gender, particularly the male variety. A big part of this is because, when working with Residence Life here at WWU, gender is a topic which comes up quite a bit. One of the most common aspects of that conversation is the constructed nature of gender, the idea that one's gender is constantly being refined and shaped by the culture in which one finds themselves. Many coming from a Christian perspective balk at this notion. I, however, have begun to think that it has more legitimacy than many would admit.
Much of this legitimacy can be seen in the effort which is made to assert what the "proper" style of gender is for any particular culture. Take this bottle of Old Spice's attempt, for example.
"Old Spice Denali body wash has a brisk, airy scent that reminds men of wide-open plains, azure skies and a particularly smooth and hydrated mountain made out of skin. Also, this mountain has a cool car."
Knowing anything about Old Spice, it's pretty clear that this is meant to be at least in some way comical. Many (more than we might think, anyway), take this seriously, however. This is what masculinity means to plenty of people, being the proverbial mountain, who also has a cool car. To many, this seems silly, particularly those who attempt to find masculinity in a Biblical manner. The very fact that anyone takes this seriously, though, makes it so that we have no excuse to not engage with this thinking in some way.
More importantly, Christianity cannot critique the idea of gender formation in an unbiassed fashion, if for no other reason than the fact that it is intimately involved in that very same process. The Bible (and more dangerously sometimes our interpretation of it) has a very specific image of what it thinks the terms men and women should mean. Often, this notion clashes with the one put forward by the world. For example, scripture asserts (and I agree) that it is not in fact acceptable for me to hit on everything that moves because I am a man. My culture might say differently, in some cases.
Living in a setting in which I get several very different interpretations of what it means to be a "real man" has inspired me to undertake a great deal of thinking on the meaning of that term. Many people think I don't live up to this idea. Some think this because I haven't had sex (and will not until marriage) since I committed my life to Christ. Other think this because I don't eat meat. Still others feel I'm missing the mark because of my understanding of how genders should interact. Whatever the case may be, it is hardly an easy task for an individual, using myself as a case study, to interpret what it means to be a "real man."
I say most of this because this is a conversation I think the Church needs to get into. I wholeheartedly believe in the model of masculinity put forward in scripture. The tough part is figuring out how to live that out in a way that doesn't completely ostracize me from society. It is too simple, and tragically unloving, for me to simply say "I am male, which means 'x', 'y', and 'z', and if you think differently your wrong and stupid." When Christ followers begin to explore the meaning and purpose behind the Biblical understanding of gender, I believe that the opportunity will come about which will allow God's understanding of gender to not be what our culture sees it as, an archaic, tragically heavy-handed power dynamic. God is not in the business of draconically subverting people. He is in the business of loving them. Entering into the current conversation on gender in a healthy way will allow the Church to show the world just that.
So enjoy "The Real Man", not the tofu dish, but the person. Made with love.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
If I Came Back From the Dead, I'd Want a Party
So this thing happened on Sunday. It was called Easter. It was pretty cool. And stuff.
No! I don't like that thing I just wrote. Why? Because it wasn't nearly excited enough!
Just be clear, Easter is a pretty fantastic occasion, on so many levels. The event which is celebrated on Easter has, sadly, become a cliche in our culture. I think we should be a bit more excited about the fact that hundreds of years of prophesy was fulfilled in the death and resurrection of Jesus and in that fulfillment we were given the opportunity to have a relationship with God. How many times have I heard that over the course of my life? I don't think I could count, but I am overjoyed that now, 21 years in, I'm finally letting it mean something.
It would be silly for me to talk about Easter and not mention the historical aspect of it all. In celebrating the amazing event heretofore described, we're joining with people from over a thousand years of faith, all of us proclaiming what Jesus did for us, and the freedom which His victory over death brings us. My apologies for internet yelling, but HOW COOL IS THAT!?
As I think on these centuries of celebration, I can't help but ponder all the various different ways worship has presented itself over those years. We've had everything from gathering in houses and simply praising, to beautiful high liturgy in ornate cathedrals, all the way to what my church did this last Sunday. Brace yourselves.
We had a DJ in our worship band.
Some of you may be crying now because of how painfully contemporary that is. Honestly, I did chuckle a little when I walked into the sanctuary on Sunday and there this guy was, up on stage, scratchin' fo Jesus. In the end, I just enjoyed it. I think Easter should be a blow-out party, and the DJ helped make it just that.
For some of us, though, this issue of what is the proper way to worship God is one of the big questions of our faith. I've seen it tear apart individual relationships, even whole congregations. In particular, it seems as though there is this constant fear of new methods of worship, a fear that an introduction of something outside of normative practices of praising God will somehow distract us from the purpose of our gathering; celebrating what the Lord has done.
For me, this begs that ever important question. Why? Why are we so obsessed with protecting tradition at all costs? In particular, why are we so obsessed with protecting our understanding of what traditional is? Our traditional would have freaked people out just a few centuries ago. For example, the fact that we read a Bible printed in English was straight-up heretical when the word of God was first transcribed into that barbarian language in the 1380s. That to say, it's a bit arrogant of us to claim that our current understanding is what should define the pinnacle of "tradition".
The fact of the matter is this. Worshipping God is a good thing. I think it is a bit of a waste of our time if we actively critique the methods which other people use to worship the Lord just because they're not what we're used to. It would do us all a world of good for us to recognize that, when people are worshipping God through reading a common book of prayer, they're hopefully doing it with the exact same heart as a group which calls in a drum line in the middle of a song. Sure, different forms of worship might make us uncomfortable, but it's still worship. Let's come together, all of us, under the banner of praising the name of the one who gave so much that we might come to know Him.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
No! I don't like that thing I just wrote. Why? Because it wasn't nearly excited enough!
Just be clear, Easter is a pretty fantastic occasion, on so many levels. The event which is celebrated on Easter has, sadly, become a cliche in our culture. I think we should be a bit more excited about the fact that hundreds of years of prophesy was fulfilled in the death and resurrection of Jesus and in that fulfillment we were given the opportunity to have a relationship with God. How many times have I heard that over the course of my life? I don't think I could count, but I am overjoyed that now, 21 years in, I'm finally letting it mean something.
It would be silly for me to talk about Easter and not mention the historical aspect of it all. In celebrating the amazing event heretofore described, we're joining with people from over a thousand years of faith, all of us proclaiming what Jesus did for us, and the freedom which His victory over death brings us. My apologies for internet yelling, but HOW COOL IS THAT!?
As I think on these centuries of celebration, I can't help but ponder all the various different ways worship has presented itself over those years. We've had everything from gathering in houses and simply praising, to beautiful high liturgy in ornate cathedrals, all the way to what my church did this last Sunday. Brace yourselves.
We had a DJ in our worship band.
Some of you may be crying now because of how painfully contemporary that is. Honestly, I did chuckle a little when I walked into the sanctuary on Sunday and there this guy was, up on stage, scratchin' fo Jesus. In the end, I just enjoyed it. I think Easter should be a blow-out party, and the DJ helped make it just that.
For some of us, though, this issue of what is the proper way to worship God is one of the big questions of our faith. I've seen it tear apart individual relationships, even whole congregations. In particular, it seems as though there is this constant fear of new methods of worship, a fear that an introduction of something outside of normative practices of praising God will somehow distract us from the purpose of our gathering; celebrating what the Lord has done.
For me, this begs that ever important question. Why? Why are we so obsessed with protecting tradition at all costs? In particular, why are we so obsessed with protecting our understanding of what traditional is? Our traditional would have freaked people out just a few centuries ago. For example, the fact that we read a Bible printed in English was straight-up heretical when the word of God was first transcribed into that barbarian language in the 1380s. That to say, it's a bit arrogant of us to claim that our current understanding is what should define the pinnacle of "tradition".
The fact of the matter is this. Worshipping God is a good thing. I think it is a bit of a waste of our time if we actively critique the methods which other people use to worship the Lord just because they're not what we're used to. It would do us all a world of good for us to recognize that, when people are worshipping God through reading a common book of prayer, they're hopefully doing it with the exact same heart as a group which calls in a drum line in the middle of a song. Sure, different forms of worship might make us uncomfortable, but it's still worship. Let's come together, all of us, under the banner of praising the name of the one who gave so much that we might come to know Him.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
They're Weird, But They Can Still Teach us Plenty
The above title refers to babies.
Some of you may already know, but for those who don't, I basically have no idea how to interact with very small children, particularly infants. They seem extremely squishy, yet fragile. Apparently they have some spot on their head that actually doesn't have anything covering it? As in they don't have a complete skull? This seems odd. Let me clarify, it's not that I think I'm inherently above learning how to interact with small children, it's just I've never really had the opportunity. I'm an only child, so no baby siblings, and I haven't been there when my friends have had kids, something which kind of bums me out. All that to say, I find babies somewhat confusing.
In particular, the behavior of babies is just...odd. An example. During a meeting today, I noticed that Ramona Anderson (a staff member here at CCF) had her baby with her during an interview. One action of baby Faye in particular intrigued me. Everything Faye touched immediately went into here mouth. E–ver–y–thing. The object then underwent an extremely rapid interrogation, in which each item was determined to not be something that belonged in Faye's mouth. Her reaction? She through it on the ground. She completely and totally rejected it.
At first, I just wrote this behavior off as somewhat odd. Then God did one of those cool things where He reminds me that He can speak to me through just about anything. The question I'm asking now when I think on behavior like Faye's: Why don't I do that?
As adults, I feel like we go through a similar process as infants, we just aren't nearly as good at it. We take things, we examine them, but unlike Faye, when we find out something isn't beneficial for us, we don't get rid of it. Be it a bad relationship, a substance we know isn't good for us, an obsession with a lie this culture is telling us about who we should be, what have you, we hold onto it. We let it sit there in our mouth, as disgusting as it is, as wrong for us as we know it is, and we do absolutely nothing.
Why?
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Some of you may already know, but for those who don't, I basically have no idea how to interact with very small children, particularly infants. They seem extremely squishy, yet fragile. Apparently they have some spot on their head that actually doesn't have anything covering it? As in they don't have a complete skull? This seems odd. Let me clarify, it's not that I think I'm inherently above learning how to interact with small children, it's just I've never really had the opportunity. I'm an only child, so no baby siblings, and I haven't been there when my friends have had kids, something which kind of bums me out. All that to say, I find babies somewhat confusing.
In particular, the behavior of babies is just...odd. An example. During a meeting today, I noticed that Ramona Anderson (a staff member here at CCF) had her baby with her during an interview. One action of baby Faye in particular intrigued me. Everything Faye touched immediately went into here mouth. E–ver–y–thing. The object then underwent an extremely rapid interrogation, in which each item was determined to not be something that belonged in Faye's mouth. Her reaction? She through it on the ground. She completely and totally rejected it.
At first, I just wrote this behavior off as somewhat odd. Then God did one of those cool things where He reminds me that He can speak to me through just about anything. The question I'm asking now when I think on behavior like Faye's: Why don't I do that?
As adults, I feel like we go through a similar process as infants, we just aren't nearly as good at it. We take things, we examine them, but unlike Faye, when we find out something isn't beneficial for us, we don't get rid of it. Be it a bad relationship, a substance we know isn't good for us, an obsession with a lie this culture is telling us about who we should be, what have you, we hold onto it. We let it sit there in our mouth, as disgusting as it is, as wrong for us as we know it is, and we do absolutely nothing.
Why?
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Friday, April 15, 2011
A Knife in the Back Instead of a Hug
We like to be supported. When dramatic changes happen in our lives, we like it when we can have someone who will affirm what it is that we are going through, who we know has our back. We need this support more than ever in those moments when some monumental change occurs, when an event inspires us to change fundamentally. Change change change.
Too often, though, we don't receive this support. Too often, we receive the exact opposite. The very people who we come to, hoping to find their support and care, reject us. There aren't very many pains in the world which can equate to that feeling of utter betrayal.
Tragically, I've seen this happen more and more recently. On the trip I took this Spring break (take a look two blogs ago to see all the cool stuff God did, and interestingly enough the very same things that inspired the reactions which are the basis of this post), many of the people on my team got altered on a fundamental level. I saw them stepping out with boldness they had never known, bringing both emotional and physical healing into the lives of the people they interacted with. They saw themselves tapping into a new aspect of who God was that they had never known, and they were incredibly excited as a result.
Then they came home and their friends and family made them feel like idiots.
Much of the time, I think we are scared of the things which we don't understand. New experiences, new ideas, especially those which challenge our current conceptualization of something, can be terrifying. As a general rule, we tend to avoid things that fall into that category, which is an issue in and of itself. However, the thing I think we need to be more careful of is our all too common tendency to lash out at those who bring in those revolutionary ways of thinking. This lashing out takes a lot of different shapes. Sometimes, it's straight up rage, poured out on another person. At other moments, it's the snide comment, the seemingly joking remark that makes the person sharing about their experience feel like a fool. Sometimes, it's simply refusing to talk to someone who we know had a certain experience, just because we know what they're going to share and we don't want to hear it.
Why are we so afraid of new ideas? I'm honestly not sure. I want to say it's because we have an understanding (particularly in regards to God) that has taken time to develop, that we hope is correct, and we are legitimately concerned for those presenting new ideas. Sadly, I feel like by saying that I'm lying to myself most of the time. More often, we're just scared, and we respond in incredibly hurtful ways.
So what do we do about this? There's a scripture which keeps dancing around in my head (it's more plodding around drawing a lot of attention to itself now, but before it was dancing quite gracefully). Proverbs 3:5 tells us to "lean not on our own understanding." I think if we would be willing to take this attitude more often, one that recognizes that we do not have the fullest understanding available to us, an infinite amount of healing could occur. Those receiving new ideas could live with so much less fear, and the pain that is too often caused as a result of that fear would begin to wash away.
We can't control how people will react when we share new things with them. What we can do, though, is provide a model of peace and openness that is worth following. So for those of us who are having experiences which we love to share, but seem to freak people out, have patience, and when someone brings a legitimate critique, engage with it, don't run just because you're being challenged. And to those hearing about these experiences, please, trust the people in your life enough to truly listen to them. You don't have to agree, but please, listen.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Too often, though, we don't receive this support. Too often, we receive the exact opposite. The very people who we come to, hoping to find their support and care, reject us. There aren't very many pains in the world which can equate to that feeling of utter betrayal.
Tragically, I've seen this happen more and more recently. On the trip I took this Spring break (take a look two blogs ago to see all the cool stuff God did, and interestingly enough the very same things that inspired the reactions which are the basis of this post), many of the people on my team got altered on a fundamental level. I saw them stepping out with boldness they had never known, bringing both emotional and physical healing into the lives of the people they interacted with. They saw themselves tapping into a new aspect of who God was that they had never known, and they were incredibly excited as a result.
Then they came home and their friends and family made them feel like idiots.
Much of the time, I think we are scared of the things which we don't understand. New experiences, new ideas, especially those which challenge our current conceptualization of something, can be terrifying. As a general rule, we tend to avoid things that fall into that category, which is an issue in and of itself. However, the thing I think we need to be more careful of is our all too common tendency to lash out at those who bring in those revolutionary ways of thinking. This lashing out takes a lot of different shapes. Sometimes, it's straight up rage, poured out on another person. At other moments, it's the snide comment, the seemingly joking remark that makes the person sharing about their experience feel like a fool. Sometimes, it's simply refusing to talk to someone who we know had a certain experience, just because we know what they're going to share and we don't want to hear it.
Why are we so afraid of new ideas? I'm honestly not sure. I want to say it's because we have an understanding (particularly in regards to God) that has taken time to develop, that we hope is correct, and we are legitimately concerned for those presenting new ideas. Sadly, I feel like by saying that I'm lying to myself most of the time. More often, we're just scared, and we respond in incredibly hurtful ways.
So what do we do about this? There's a scripture which keeps dancing around in my head (it's more plodding around drawing a lot of attention to itself now, but before it was dancing quite gracefully). Proverbs 3:5 tells us to "lean not on our own understanding." I think if we would be willing to take this attitude more often, one that recognizes that we do not have the fullest understanding available to us, an infinite amount of healing could occur. Those receiving new ideas could live with so much less fear, and the pain that is too often caused as a result of that fear would begin to wash away.
We can't control how people will react when we share new things with them. What we can do, though, is provide a model of peace and openness that is worth following. So for those of us who are having experiences which we love to share, but seem to freak people out, have patience, and when someone brings a legitimate critique, engage with it, don't run just because you're being challenged. And to those hearing about these experiences, please, trust the people in your life enough to truly listen to them. You don't have to agree, but please, listen.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Sunday, April 10, 2011
I'm a Polytheist Until I Have my Coffee
We put a lot of pressure on ourselves to do things correctly. In any area of our life, I think it is a pretty general trend that we don't enjoy being wrong. Be it the pressure put on us from our culture, or the simple fact that we don't like to appear foolish, I know I (in the most limited of scopes) beat myself up quite a bit if I mess up in some way.
Your honor, I would like to present to the court the piece of evidence from here on referred to as exhibit A. At one of our recent early morning prayer times here at WWU, I was doing the thing which the name of the time establishes as normative for that meeting. At one point, I'm pretty sure that I prayed that the "Lord would reveal themselves to His people all the more."
Here's something close to what happened in my brain after saying that.
"Wait, what did I just say? That sounded wrong. God, I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing. Wait, crap that was polytheistic, blerg I hate it when I do that by mistake. Now I'm being heretical. Should I correct myself? No, that'll just make an even bigger deal out of it. I just won't say anything, maybe everyone will just forget. Sorry about that again Lord."
It's really pretty astounding how much my brain can do in a matter of about a second. In particular, I'm surprised how much I can beat myself up over one little slip up in such an amazingly short period of time. I'm sure, given a bit longer, I would have convinced myself that I was the grandest of all idiots, doomed to living a life of incomprehensible stupidity the likes of which the world has never seen.
The question that has been bouncing around in my head since then is a simple one, yet a profound response to all of my worrying. I'm quite certain it's one of those wonderfully calming thoughts that comes from God in those moments when I'm getting distracted by silly things.
"Do you not get that I don't care how eloquent you are? Stop trying to perform. Just love me."
Faith is an area in which it is just as easy for us to allow our paranoia of being wrong stop us, or at the very least distract us, from that which we are meant to have, that which is meant to enrich us. Honestly, I don't know why we worry about this so much. Any holistic examination of scripture I have ever taken has shown me that God isn't into smiting people because they prayed incorrectly, or because they were accidentally a polytheist for a second or two.
Simply put, I don't think there is a wrong way to explore more of who God is. We might be able to come to wrong conclusions about things, but when we honestly seek to get to know more of Him, I think He is incredibly excited about that. So join with me, those who would see this, in not worrying about those minute times when we get the lyrics wrong in worship, or say the wrong thing in prayer, or forget where something is in the Bible. Let's stop worrying about all of that, and instead just realize and embrace the fact that God is rejoicing when we spend time with Him.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Your honor, I would like to present to the court the piece of evidence from here on referred to as exhibit A. At one of our recent early morning prayer times here at WWU, I was doing the thing which the name of the time establishes as normative for that meeting. At one point, I'm pretty sure that I prayed that the "Lord would reveal themselves to His people all the more."
Here's something close to what happened in my brain after saying that.
"Wait, what did I just say? That sounded wrong. God, I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing. Wait, crap that was polytheistic, blerg I hate it when I do that by mistake. Now I'm being heretical. Should I correct myself? No, that'll just make an even bigger deal out of it. I just won't say anything, maybe everyone will just forget. Sorry about that again Lord."
It's really pretty astounding how much my brain can do in a matter of about a second. In particular, I'm surprised how much I can beat myself up over one little slip up in such an amazingly short period of time. I'm sure, given a bit longer, I would have convinced myself that I was the grandest of all idiots, doomed to living a life of incomprehensible stupidity the likes of which the world has never seen.
The question that has been bouncing around in my head since then is a simple one, yet a profound response to all of my worrying. I'm quite certain it's one of those wonderfully calming thoughts that comes from God in those moments when I'm getting distracted by silly things.
"Do you not get that I don't care how eloquent you are? Stop trying to perform. Just love me."
Faith is an area in which it is just as easy for us to allow our paranoia of being wrong stop us, or at the very least distract us, from that which we are meant to have, that which is meant to enrich us. Honestly, I don't know why we worry about this so much. Any holistic examination of scripture I have ever taken has shown me that God isn't into smiting people because they prayed incorrectly, or because they were accidentally a polytheist for a second or two.
Simply put, I don't think there is a wrong way to explore more of who God is. We might be able to come to wrong conclusions about things, but when we honestly seek to get to know more of Him, I think He is incredibly excited about that. So join with me, those who would see this, in not worrying about those minute times when we get the lyrics wrong in worship, or say the wrong thing in prayer, or forget where something is in the Bible. Let's stop worrying about all of that, and instead just realize and embrace the fact that God is rejoicing when we spend time with Him.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Monday, March 28, 2011
When a Break Isn't a Break but it's Still Fantastic
Here at WWU, it's the dawn of a new quarter. People are getting textbooks in the mail, talking about what classes they'll be in, and since it's Spring the number of old cyclists in really tight spandex pants has quintupled. Interestingly enough, though, in this time of new beginnings, I find myself compelled to take a look back for a bit.
For those who don't know, I just returned from a week long outreach/mission trip down to Central California. This trip, like similar ones which I have taken before, dramatically changed who I am, and had a significant impact on how I view God. As I head into this next academic session, though, I've been finding it harder and harder to remember all the amazing things which transpired over the course of this expedition.
Thus, this post has come into existence. Below you'll find a chronicling of all of the momentous events which I can remember from the trip. Along with everything here, there were plenty of laughs, about 36 hours of driving, and amazing movements of God that I had no part in but happened none the less. When you get 27 people together to serve Him, things tend to go down. Please know, I don't share any of this to puff myself up, only to boast in what God did over the course of my down in California. So, without any further delay, I invite you to read, in no particular order, as much or as little as you would like of what God did one Spring break to one undeserving but incredibly grateful college student.
This One Time, at Prophesy Camp...
The ministry we were working with in California has a rep for being very active in the Holy Spirit. To elaborate a little, this group has a connection with a certain aspect of God's person who is known for doing things in pretty exciting and dramatic ways. Healings, words of knowledge, deliverances from the demonic, this isn't so much freaky scary stuff for them, it just happens (if you have questions about these things, please ask me, I know some of this can sound kind of weird, and I would love to talk more about it).
In particular, I was introduced to prophecy is some fairly exciting ways over the course of this trip. On one day in particular, are big 'ol group broke up into smaller chunks with the hope of praying for each other and listening for what it was God wanted to speak to that individual in the moment. I had never done this before, and understandably was a little bit, strike that, incredibly freaked out. I had heard, though, that it was helpful to look for a vision, some sort of image which God had for that person, and then share it. So I gave it a shot. My friend Michelle was up first, and so I started praying for an image which God would give me and I could then interpret to encourage her. Do you want to know what amazing word of strength I got to share?
"I see you sitting at a table..."
And I said it just as awkward as it sounds. Praise God for Michelle, though, who received my prophetic ineptitude with such grace. Michelle's response allowed me to press in more and continue to seek how God wanted to speak to me. I found that, over the course of the rest of our prayer time, God apparently likes to speak to me through words, not so much images. Now I feel infinitely more confident listening to what God might have to say to encourage or challenge someone in a moment, and I'm so excited to see how God is going to use this growth.
Ask and You Shall Receive...Chains for Your Tires
This is a short but beautiful one. On our return trip, the pass out of California was at a point that chains were required to even try to get through. Guess what we didn't have for any of our cars! We went to a Les Schwab, and they were completely sold out. In their kindness, though, they pointed us to a Sears around the corner. At the Sears, the automotive guy told us that he had already turned away about 40 people, but he would check his stock anyway. In that moment, I felt compelled to pray. Nothing fancy, just a simple "God, would you please give us favor in this moment." The second I finished praying, the man looks up and says:
"Wait, what size were the tires on that Corolla again? Yeah, I think I have those."
We got the last set he had.
Shocking News! God Helps us be Encouraging
On our second day of campus outreach, we found ourselves at Medesto Junior College. On the way out to the school, I had been praying for a word of encouragement to give to the crew for that day. I felt like God was telling me that the Freshmen were going to do something particularly special during our time at MJC. I shared this with the group, not really knowing what to expect.
Later that day, I found out that one of our freshmen had led two people to commit their lives to Christ, and another had been baptized in the Holy Spirit, a huge event for her. I don't think I can really express in a way I am familiar with how encouraging it was to be able to be used by God to help others grow closer to Him.
Oh, and one more thing on the guy who led people to the Lord. Earlier that day in our team devotional, that very same person asked what we should do if we found ourselves in a conversation after which someone wanted to commit their lives to Jesus. What!?
Just Dance, It'll be OK, da doo da doo doo
During one of our worship times, one of our team members was dancing around, as is her way. Over the course of worship, she twisted her ankle. She then asked one of the California students we were serving with for some ice. Instead, he gave her some prayer. She was immediately back up dancing around without any trace of pain.
Rockin' Your Socks From Day -12
Before our trip even got going, several people who I trust almost implicitly in regards to how they hear from God were talking to me about how one individual on our team was going to be particularly impacted. Every time a team goes to Stanislaus, there has always been one person who has been really, dramatically changed, and there people were filling out their brackets for this year (admittedly, the bracket only had one spot).
On the drive down, I got to be in the car with this particular brother for some time. Our group got around to sharing our testimonies with each other. After sharing mine, my brother told me that he was really encouraged by my willingness to share all that God had done in my life (there are some pretty intense things, ask me sometime if you want to hear more). What followed over the next few days can only be described as amazing. On the first night of the trip this man shared with the other guys on our team some personal details he had never really shared before, something which was incredibly freeing for him. What followed was a week of this guy stepping out in new and astounding ways, constantly wowing me with how faithful and bold he was in his service to the Lord.
So congrats all of you who picked that one right. As a prize, you win this cup of coffee I just finished. All of you have to split it.
The Most Beautiful Letdown
I had some hopes going into this trip. No, not hopes, I had expectations. Earlier in the year (around fall quarter), I felt led to go out and do some public preaching. In a strange explosion of clarity, I even heard pretty plainly what it is that I was supposed to say. It was also made clear that I wasn't supposed to do it right then and there. Rather, I was supposed to do one of those "wait for an appointed time" type things. It didn't work out for me to do this Fall or Winter quarter. I wasn't too bummed though, I figured that California is one of those places that has all of this "sun" nonsense, so I'll just do it there.
It rained almost the entire time we were out and about on campuses.
At first, I was incredibly disappointed. This was something I had been looking forward to for months, and then it didn't happen. I got a very simply, very encouraging word, however, in one of my prayer times.
"Why do you have to do it here?"
This one phrase taught me more than I think I have even processed yet. Too often, I get excited about doing something, and then immediately develop a plan for how that something will play out. When that plan in turn goes awry, as it is wont to do, it is easy for me to start beating myself up because the one thing I was looking for didn't happen. What I have learned, though, is that if we focus too much on what we expect to happen, we forget about everything else that went on, and we run the risk of missing out on all that God wants us to see that we might not even be looking for.
I think it's fitting that the above would be my last story for now. All in all, the thing I learned most from this trip was that God works in ways we can't even imagine. He's weird, He's surprising, and sometimes a little bit scary. But in every single one of those moments, we must never forget that He is also Love, in its fullest.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
P.S. If any of these things sparked your interest, I would love to talk about the trip (and anything else) more. Come find me.
For those who don't know, I just returned from a week long outreach/mission trip down to Central California. This trip, like similar ones which I have taken before, dramatically changed who I am, and had a significant impact on how I view God. As I head into this next academic session, though, I've been finding it harder and harder to remember all the amazing things which transpired over the course of this expedition.
Thus, this post has come into existence. Below you'll find a chronicling of all of the momentous events which I can remember from the trip. Along with everything here, there were plenty of laughs, about 36 hours of driving, and amazing movements of God that I had no part in but happened none the less. When you get 27 people together to serve Him, things tend to go down. Please know, I don't share any of this to puff myself up, only to boast in what God did over the course of my down in California. So, without any further delay, I invite you to read, in no particular order, as much or as little as you would like of what God did one Spring break to one undeserving but incredibly grateful college student.
This One Time, at Prophesy Camp...
The ministry we were working with in California has a rep for being very active in the Holy Spirit. To elaborate a little, this group has a connection with a certain aspect of God's person who is known for doing things in pretty exciting and dramatic ways. Healings, words of knowledge, deliverances from the demonic, this isn't so much freaky scary stuff for them, it just happens (if you have questions about these things, please ask me, I know some of this can sound kind of weird, and I would love to talk more about it).
In particular, I was introduced to prophecy is some fairly exciting ways over the course of this trip. On one day in particular, are big 'ol group broke up into smaller chunks with the hope of praying for each other and listening for what it was God wanted to speak to that individual in the moment. I had never done this before, and understandably was a little bit, strike that, incredibly freaked out. I had heard, though, that it was helpful to look for a vision, some sort of image which God had for that person, and then share it. So I gave it a shot. My friend Michelle was up first, and so I started praying for an image which God would give me and I could then interpret to encourage her. Do you want to know what amazing word of strength I got to share?
"I see you sitting at a table..."
And I said it just as awkward as it sounds. Praise God for Michelle, though, who received my prophetic ineptitude with such grace. Michelle's response allowed me to press in more and continue to seek how God wanted to speak to me. I found that, over the course of the rest of our prayer time, God apparently likes to speak to me through words, not so much images. Now I feel infinitely more confident listening to what God might have to say to encourage or challenge someone in a moment, and I'm so excited to see how God is going to use this growth.
Ask and You Shall Receive...Chains for Your Tires
This is a short but beautiful one. On our return trip, the pass out of California was at a point that chains were required to even try to get through. Guess what we didn't have for any of our cars! We went to a Les Schwab, and they were completely sold out. In their kindness, though, they pointed us to a Sears around the corner. At the Sears, the automotive guy told us that he had already turned away about 40 people, but he would check his stock anyway. In that moment, I felt compelled to pray. Nothing fancy, just a simple "God, would you please give us favor in this moment." The second I finished praying, the man looks up and says:
"Wait, what size were the tires on that Corolla again? Yeah, I think I have those."
We got the last set he had.
Shocking News! God Helps us be Encouraging
On our second day of campus outreach, we found ourselves at Medesto Junior College. On the way out to the school, I had been praying for a word of encouragement to give to the crew for that day. I felt like God was telling me that the Freshmen were going to do something particularly special during our time at MJC. I shared this with the group, not really knowing what to expect.
Later that day, I found out that one of our freshmen had led two people to commit their lives to Christ, and another had been baptized in the Holy Spirit, a huge event for her. I don't think I can really express in a way I am familiar with how encouraging it was to be able to be used by God to help others grow closer to Him.
Oh, and one more thing on the guy who led people to the Lord. Earlier that day in our team devotional, that very same person asked what we should do if we found ourselves in a conversation after which someone wanted to commit their lives to Jesus. What!?
Just Dance, It'll be OK, da doo da doo doo
During one of our worship times, one of our team members was dancing around, as is her way. Over the course of worship, she twisted her ankle. She then asked one of the California students we were serving with for some ice. Instead, he gave her some prayer. She was immediately back up dancing around without any trace of pain.
Rockin' Your Socks From Day -12
Before our trip even got going, several people who I trust almost implicitly in regards to how they hear from God were talking to me about how one individual on our team was going to be particularly impacted. Every time a team goes to Stanislaus, there has always been one person who has been really, dramatically changed, and there people were filling out their brackets for this year (admittedly, the bracket only had one spot).
On the drive down, I got to be in the car with this particular brother for some time. Our group got around to sharing our testimonies with each other. After sharing mine, my brother told me that he was really encouraged by my willingness to share all that God had done in my life (there are some pretty intense things, ask me sometime if you want to hear more). What followed over the next few days can only be described as amazing. On the first night of the trip this man shared with the other guys on our team some personal details he had never really shared before, something which was incredibly freeing for him. What followed was a week of this guy stepping out in new and astounding ways, constantly wowing me with how faithful and bold he was in his service to the Lord.
So congrats all of you who picked that one right. As a prize, you win this cup of coffee I just finished. All of you have to split it.
The Most Beautiful Letdown
I had some hopes going into this trip. No, not hopes, I had expectations. Earlier in the year (around fall quarter), I felt led to go out and do some public preaching. In a strange explosion of clarity, I even heard pretty plainly what it is that I was supposed to say. It was also made clear that I wasn't supposed to do it right then and there. Rather, I was supposed to do one of those "wait for an appointed time" type things. It didn't work out for me to do this Fall or Winter quarter. I wasn't too bummed though, I figured that California is one of those places that has all of this "sun" nonsense, so I'll just do it there.
It rained almost the entire time we were out and about on campuses.
At first, I was incredibly disappointed. This was something I had been looking forward to for months, and then it didn't happen. I got a very simply, very encouraging word, however, in one of my prayer times.
"Why do you have to do it here?"
This one phrase taught me more than I think I have even processed yet. Too often, I get excited about doing something, and then immediately develop a plan for how that something will play out. When that plan in turn goes awry, as it is wont to do, it is easy for me to start beating myself up because the one thing I was looking for didn't happen. What I have learned, though, is that if we focus too much on what we expect to happen, we forget about everything else that went on, and we run the risk of missing out on all that God wants us to see that we might not even be looking for.
I think it's fitting that the above would be my last story for now. All in all, the thing I learned most from this trip was that God works in ways we can't even imagine. He's weird, He's surprising, and sometimes a little bit scary. But in every single one of those moments, we must never forget that He is also Love, in its fullest.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
P.S. If any of these things sparked your interest, I would love to talk about the trip (and anything else) more. Come find me.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Everything Old is Still Old
But that doesn't necessarily mean that it's all bad.
For those of you who might not be aware, the traditional Church calendar has recently entered into a very particular time. Known as Lent, it is a period of fasting from certain things for the purpose of reflecting and relating to Jesus' time of fasting in the desert (I'm a bit spotty on the liturgy here, so if I'm wrong feel free to call me on it). This time is special not just because of what it calls us to reflect on, or even what it leads up to (that being Easter). Rather, I think this is one of the very few times in which we modern drum-playing laser-using Christians let high Church liturgy have something to do with our faith.
I find I generally have a fairly negative attitude towards liturgy. I find it to be something which is difficult to understand, and I feel it inhibits people from engaging in worship. I won't claim that my opinion is the same as everyone's (the world would be terrifying if everyone's brain worked like mine), but in this particular instance I feel I have a lot in common with a decent chunk of at least the American culture, be it Christian or otherwise.
So why do I let Lent sneak in the back door? If I'm so opposed to liturgy, an opposition which I communicate fairly readily, why am I not playing video games or buying things from vending machines for the next month or so?
In some people's opinions, I was right to begin with. I'm hearing more and more that some more nascent movements within the Church are arguing that the practice of Lent, and in some cases fasting in general, is no longer necessary. Fasting and other liturgical practices are seen as being distractions from the grace which God has shown us, and thus need to be abandoned, lest we be caught up in a faith which is too focused on works and not focused enough on God.
I've heard a theory presented recently, though, that challenges the above idea in what I think is a pretty profound way. As articulated in a recent Relevant magazine article relating to Lent, the author asserts that Lent can be a way of "loving God in unnecessary, unrequired ways." To him, "that's good religion."
Thinking on this article, I feel that the whole notion of fasting being an unnecessary display begs an important question. Why does something being "necessary" matter? Faith in Christ was never meant to be some list of things to be checked off so that we can consider ourselves "done" in the great metaphysical sense. Our spiritual lives aren't some proverbial tofurducken; they can't be over-seasoned, in my opinion.
I think it is a very good thing to identify essential doctrines of Christianity, such as grace. I don't think it is ever a bad thing to delve deeper into this particular world-changing aspect of God's love. However, when we start axing everything that isn't sitting around thinking on how great God's grace is, we miss out on a lot of great ways in which we can respond to God's love creatively. In light of this, I say we begin exploring some of those weird old things that are generally lumped into the term "liturgy". Sure, they might be old, and they might not make sense, but professors tend to be the same way a lot of the time. The key thing that both of these have in common is that they almost always have something to teach us.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
For those of you who might not be aware, the traditional Church calendar has recently entered into a very particular time. Known as Lent, it is a period of fasting from certain things for the purpose of reflecting and relating to Jesus' time of fasting in the desert (I'm a bit spotty on the liturgy here, so if I'm wrong feel free to call me on it). This time is special not just because of what it calls us to reflect on, or even what it leads up to (that being Easter). Rather, I think this is one of the very few times in which we modern drum-playing laser-using Christians let high Church liturgy have something to do with our faith.
I find I generally have a fairly negative attitude towards liturgy. I find it to be something which is difficult to understand, and I feel it inhibits people from engaging in worship. I won't claim that my opinion is the same as everyone's (the world would be terrifying if everyone's brain worked like mine), but in this particular instance I feel I have a lot in common with a decent chunk of at least the American culture, be it Christian or otherwise.
So why do I let Lent sneak in the back door? If I'm so opposed to liturgy, an opposition which I communicate fairly readily, why am I not playing video games or buying things from vending machines for the next month or so?
In some people's opinions, I was right to begin with. I'm hearing more and more that some more nascent movements within the Church are arguing that the practice of Lent, and in some cases fasting in general, is no longer necessary. Fasting and other liturgical practices are seen as being distractions from the grace which God has shown us, and thus need to be abandoned, lest we be caught up in a faith which is too focused on works and not focused enough on God.
I've heard a theory presented recently, though, that challenges the above idea in what I think is a pretty profound way. As articulated in a recent Relevant magazine article relating to Lent, the author asserts that Lent can be a way of "loving God in unnecessary, unrequired ways." To him, "that's good religion."
Thinking on this article, I feel that the whole notion of fasting being an unnecessary display begs an important question. Why does something being "necessary" matter? Faith in Christ was never meant to be some list of things to be checked off so that we can consider ourselves "done" in the great metaphysical sense. Our spiritual lives aren't some proverbial tofurducken; they can't be over-seasoned, in my opinion.
I think it is a very good thing to identify essential doctrines of Christianity, such as grace. I don't think it is ever a bad thing to delve deeper into this particular world-changing aspect of God's love. However, when we start axing everything that isn't sitting around thinking on how great God's grace is, we miss out on a lot of great ways in which we can respond to God's love creatively. In light of this, I say we begin exploring some of those weird old things that are generally lumped into the term "liturgy". Sure, they might be old, and they might not make sense, but professors tend to be the same way a lot of the time. The key thing that both of these have in common is that they almost always have something to teach us.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
But I Don't Even Like Elephants
The title of this post is not entirely true. I wouldn't say I necessarily dislike elephants. I'm more just confused by them. Real elephants, that is. Now symbolic elephants, that is a whole other story.
Some of you may be aware that, here in the sometimes-good-ol' U.S. of A, the elephant has come to act as the symbol of the Republican party. More and more, though, I think the party might consider shifting towards a new emblem. What might this emblem be, you ask? Terrifyingly, I think it might be a Bible.
Before I go any further, I want to say what this blog is not going to be. I'm not going to sit here and rant about politics and faith. Instead, what I want to talk about today is the public image which Christianity has developed, and the dangers of letting that image go unchecked.
My thoughts on this, though growing for a while now, largely stemmed from a conversation I had with someone in one of my classes. His opinion of Christianity was that it has essentially become a political tool, a weapon which could be used to drive home particular points and establish a certain morality as the foundation for American rule of law. After doing some more digging, I've found that this is a fairly widespread view of Christianity.
Some people, as I'm sure we're all aware, and 100% in favor of this. It's thought by many that America would be a better place if we just ran it like the Bible instructed. The issue with this thinking, though, is that a country is not a person.
In all my talks with people on this subject, not once has the idea that Christianity is a faith which cares about people, not just widespread political action, come up. The truth of the gospel, the fact that Jesus died on a cross so that each and every individual person might have an intimate relationship with God, is completely lost on a good chunk of people. There was no mention of the fact that Christians are called to meet people, right where they are at, regardless of circumstance, behavior, or character, and love them. To the people I talked to, the fact that God is a person, not just an agenda, wasn't even a mental footnote.
As I think back on these conversations, the only thing I can do is ask what happened to our faith? How did Christianity become so viciously misrepresented in Western society? There are plenty of ways in which the blame could be directed. We could blame the Religious Right, we could blame the media and its obsession of inflammatory sound-bites, any number of groups. I've got a different perspective, however.
I'm going to go ahead and blame myself.
I appreciate the thought if you're leaping to my defense, reminding me that I wasn't even born when this particular perversion of Christianity got its start, that I'm fairly new to the faith, that I can't possibly have been the cause of this pervasive lack of trust in God. The fact of the matter is, however, that I haven't done nearly as much as I could have to solve this crisis. I've sat around and bemoaned how horribly my faith is misunderstood, but I haven't taken the time to engage people so that I might challenge their misconceptions.
So here I go. First off, I want to apologize to any who read this for when I, personally, or my faith, as a collective, has failed to truly represent who God is, the unbelievably loving individual who desires a relationship with each and every person on this Earth. I'm sorry for when I have demonized you because of your behavior, when I'm specifically called to love you regardless of where you are at. That's how God loves you, and I don't always do a good job of living that out. I'm learning, though.
Not to say I'm anything super fantastic, but I think this is the attitude that the Church needs to take. We need to stop yelling at a nation, and instead start talking to people. The former hasn't really done God any good, and has alienated more than can be counted. If we're going to begin healing the hyper-political image which the Church, and by extension God, has received, it's going to take engaging with people. If you consider yourself someone who is following after Christ, I invite you to join with me in taking off the sackcloth we have been wearing to mourn the non-existent passing of Christianity, and instead go and show this world who God really is.
With His love and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
Some of you may be aware that, here in the sometimes-good-ol' U.S. of A, the elephant has come to act as the symbol of the Republican party. More and more, though, I think the party might consider shifting towards a new emblem. What might this emblem be, you ask? Terrifyingly, I think it might be a Bible.
Before I go any further, I want to say what this blog is not going to be. I'm not going to sit here and rant about politics and faith. Instead, what I want to talk about today is the public image which Christianity has developed, and the dangers of letting that image go unchecked.
My thoughts on this, though growing for a while now, largely stemmed from a conversation I had with someone in one of my classes. His opinion of Christianity was that it has essentially become a political tool, a weapon which could be used to drive home particular points and establish a certain morality as the foundation for American rule of law. After doing some more digging, I've found that this is a fairly widespread view of Christianity.
Some people, as I'm sure we're all aware, and 100% in favor of this. It's thought by many that America would be a better place if we just ran it like the Bible instructed. The issue with this thinking, though, is that a country is not a person.
In all my talks with people on this subject, not once has the idea that Christianity is a faith which cares about people, not just widespread political action, come up. The truth of the gospel, the fact that Jesus died on a cross so that each and every individual person might have an intimate relationship with God, is completely lost on a good chunk of people. There was no mention of the fact that Christians are called to meet people, right where they are at, regardless of circumstance, behavior, or character, and love them. To the people I talked to, the fact that God is a person, not just an agenda, wasn't even a mental footnote.
As I think back on these conversations, the only thing I can do is ask what happened to our faith? How did Christianity become so viciously misrepresented in Western society? There are plenty of ways in which the blame could be directed. We could blame the Religious Right, we could blame the media and its obsession of inflammatory sound-bites, any number of groups. I've got a different perspective, however.
I'm going to go ahead and blame myself.
I appreciate the thought if you're leaping to my defense, reminding me that I wasn't even born when this particular perversion of Christianity got its start, that I'm fairly new to the faith, that I can't possibly have been the cause of this pervasive lack of trust in God. The fact of the matter is, however, that I haven't done nearly as much as I could have to solve this crisis. I've sat around and bemoaned how horribly my faith is misunderstood, but I haven't taken the time to engage people so that I might challenge their misconceptions.
So here I go. First off, I want to apologize to any who read this for when I, personally, or my faith, as a collective, has failed to truly represent who God is, the unbelievably loving individual who desires a relationship with each and every person on this Earth. I'm sorry for when I have demonized you because of your behavior, when I'm specifically called to love you regardless of where you are at. That's how God loves you, and I don't always do a good job of living that out. I'm learning, though.
Not to say I'm anything super fantastic, but I think this is the attitude that the Church needs to take. We need to stop yelling at a nation, and instead start talking to people. The former hasn't really done God any good, and has alienated more than can be counted. If we're going to begin healing the hyper-political image which the Church, and by extension God, has received, it's going to take engaging with people. If you consider yourself someone who is following after Christ, I invite you to join with me in taking off the sackcloth we have been wearing to mourn the non-existent passing of Christianity, and instead go and show this world who God really is.
With His love and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
Monday, February 14, 2011
Roses are Red, Violets are Blue. Saint Valentine's Dead, I'm Not Good at Rhyming.
We all know what day it is. Well, some of us might not, and if you're a part of that group and currently dating someone, here's a friendly reminder.
Being the historian that I am, I feel as though it is my obligation to inform you all of the true legacy of the man who this long-distorted holiday "honors". Several different saints claim to have been martyred around February 14th, but the one who gets the credit is known to us as Saint Valentine. How did this man gain such an illustrious title, you ask? As I understand it, Valentine continued the practice of marrying people in the Christian tradition in a day and age when it had been declared illegal to do so. I'm sorry if this is a drain on all the romanticism, but I honestly think realizing what this day is about makes it meaningful. A man was killed for protecting the joining together of two people in what can be an absolutely beautiful way. That's pretty phenomenal.
I can't help but contrast the history of this day with what it has become. Let me say this before you all write me off as a cynic. I am one of the most hopeless of hopeless romantics. Were it not for the current weather, I would be driving one of my core guys and his girlfriend out to this campground where bunnies apparently run rampant, just so that they could have a nice time. I love love, I just don't love what various aspects of our culture have done to it.
The main reason why I don't love our culture's understanding of what love is has to do with the fact that I have been burned by it pretty severely. I'm going to tell you all something that is extremely personal, but I feel is pertinent to what I'm talking about here. I'm not a virgin. I lost my virginity to my first serious dating relationship back in my junior year of high school. After that particular relationship ended, I jumped from person to person, hoping to accomplish the conquest necessary to validate myself as a man, as the culture I lived in understood that term. The man I was during that time was described as a womanizer, and I don't think that was inaccurate.
A huge amount of healing and change has gone on within me, but what has been left behind is an intense frustration with our culture, particularly the fact that we are constantly told we aren't truly complete unless we are in a relationship. I'm not even dealing with issues of immorality right now. Particularly on this day, our world likes to tell us that we are missing the pivotal aspect of what our lives could be if we're not in a romantic relationship. Speaking as someone who spent years of his life running from relationship to relationship trying to find this aspect of my life, only to end up empty, I feel I can confidently say we need a lot more than a relationship to become complete.
In light of this frustration, I have something I want to say to all of those who are struggling right now with the hardship of feeling like you're not worth anything because you haven't been validated by another person. You, you, are loved, by the God who knows you better than any other person ever can.
I know this time can be painful. We're surrounded by so much romanticism it's hard to feel like we're not doing something wrong. Please, don't buy into the lie that you don't have any worth just because no one bought you flowers. I'm not saying we're not allowed to be sad today. Shoot, I'll probably go get ice cream later, because it's just one of those days. Know this, though. You're worth more than this culture could ever know. This world's version of love doesn't deserve you, and it's missing out on something incredibly beautiful. That's how God sees you.
With His love and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
Being the historian that I am, I feel as though it is my obligation to inform you all of the true legacy of the man who this long-distorted holiday "honors". Several different saints claim to have been martyred around February 14th, but the one who gets the credit is known to us as Saint Valentine. How did this man gain such an illustrious title, you ask? As I understand it, Valentine continued the practice of marrying people in the Christian tradition in a day and age when it had been declared illegal to do so. I'm sorry if this is a drain on all the romanticism, but I honestly think realizing what this day is about makes it meaningful. A man was killed for protecting the joining together of two people in what can be an absolutely beautiful way. That's pretty phenomenal.
I can't help but contrast the history of this day with what it has become. Let me say this before you all write me off as a cynic. I am one of the most hopeless of hopeless romantics. Were it not for the current weather, I would be driving one of my core guys and his girlfriend out to this campground where bunnies apparently run rampant, just so that they could have a nice time. I love love, I just don't love what various aspects of our culture have done to it.
The main reason why I don't love our culture's understanding of what love is has to do with the fact that I have been burned by it pretty severely. I'm going to tell you all something that is extremely personal, but I feel is pertinent to what I'm talking about here. I'm not a virgin. I lost my virginity to my first serious dating relationship back in my junior year of high school. After that particular relationship ended, I jumped from person to person, hoping to accomplish the conquest necessary to validate myself as a man, as the culture I lived in understood that term. The man I was during that time was described as a womanizer, and I don't think that was inaccurate.
A huge amount of healing and change has gone on within me, but what has been left behind is an intense frustration with our culture, particularly the fact that we are constantly told we aren't truly complete unless we are in a relationship. I'm not even dealing with issues of immorality right now. Particularly on this day, our world likes to tell us that we are missing the pivotal aspect of what our lives could be if we're not in a romantic relationship. Speaking as someone who spent years of his life running from relationship to relationship trying to find this aspect of my life, only to end up empty, I feel I can confidently say we need a lot more than a relationship to become complete.
In light of this frustration, I have something I want to say to all of those who are struggling right now with the hardship of feeling like you're not worth anything because you haven't been validated by another person. You, you, are loved, by the God who knows you better than any other person ever can.
I know this time can be painful. We're surrounded by so much romanticism it's hard to feel like we're not doing something wrong. Please, don't buy into the lie that you don't have any worth just because no one bought you flowers. I'm not saying we're not allowed to be sad today. Shoot, I'll probably go get ice cream later, because it's just one of those days. Know this, though. You're worth more than this culture could ever know. This world's version of love doesn't deserve you, and it's missing out on something incredibly beautiful. That's how God sees you.
With His love and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Apparently No One Cares That We Exist
I've been reading a lot lately. Thinking more and more on how to do the whole honor God with my mind thing a bit better, I've found myself drawn to exploring the various material which people have actually taken the time to write down. It's refreshing to see that there is still a drive to construct a well crafted point and then commit it to paper, going through all the work that comes along with that, in a day and age where I can just rant on a forum about how the Verizon iPhone is sooooooo much better than the ATT iPhone btw lololololololololol.
I feel dirty for typing that.
As I was saying reading, not unlike a rainbow, is a beautiful and enriching thing which I think we should all have more of in our lives. There was one thing in particular which I read recently, however, that was pretty much the opposite of a rainbow. It was dark, it was depressing, and it made me want to cry (and no, I'm not kidding).
In a recent article entitled "The Leavers", found in the November issue of Christianity Today, the problem of large amounts of 20-30 somethings leaving the Church was addressed. I was just fine with most of this article. It made some very insightful points. Then I came to the section headed "Won't They Just Come Back?" It is apparently a belief amongst some researchers that if people are losing their faith, are being wounded by the Church to the point that they feel like they have to leave, that if people see Christianity as so contrary to Jesus Christ that they just can't remain a part of the institution anymore, it doesn't really matter. They'll come to their senses eventually. This is just a phase.
Hear me, those who would believe this. My generation is not a phase. We are not a fad. You can't write us off just because we're inconvenient.
If I sound angry about this it's because I am. The fact that it is seen as OK by anyone within the Christian Church to simply stop engaging a group of people for a period of time because they tend not to mesh well with what is seen as the established Church structure is a fundamental insult to what Jesus did on the cross. There is so much wrong with this view that I honestly can't articulate very well in this setting.
Some of you may be wondering why I waited so long to talk about this article (it did, after all, come out in November). I've waited because I don't like ranting about things without having some measure of hope to bring to the table. So I've been digging for a while. Looking at both what people have been writing and what people around me have been doing, I'm excited to say that I've found a heaping helping of hope in the face of this, the abandonment of an entire generation. There are plenty of people who are following Jesus well, recognizing that just because younger people have questions and problems with Christianity and the Church doesn't mean they should be forgotten. A recent book, unChristian, does a phenomenal job of showing just how much time is being taken by some to go out and examine why so many younger people have serious problems with Christianity (side note; a very, very small portion of this people have a problem with Jesus. Why do we think that is?).
I have been blessed to not live in a Christian community where I feel as though I have been forgotten, or that my generation has been forgotten. I hope that these sorts of communities are in the minority. I want to say this to those generations who have come before us. My generation is asking a lot of tough, very important questions, that are often extremely intimidating. I would argue that we are questioning ideas of faith more than any Western generation which has come before us. This means we can be much harder to engage with. It also means that we need to be engaged more urgently than ever before. Please, don't forget about us.
With His love and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
I feel dirty for typing that.
As I was saying reading, not unlike a rainbow, is a beautiful and enriching thing which I think we should all have more of in our lives. There was one thing in particular which I read recently, however, that was pretty much the opposite of a rainbow. It was dark, it was depressing, and it made me want to cry (and no, I'm not kidding).
In a recent article entitled "The Leavers", found in the November issue of Christianity Today, the problem of large amounts of 20-30 somethings leaving the Church was addressed. I was just fine with most of this article. It made some very insightful points. Then I came to the section headed "Won't They Just Come Back?" It is apparently a belief amongst some researchers that if people are losing their faith, are being wounded by the Church to the point that they feel like they have to leave, that if people see Christianity as so contrary to Jesus Christ that they just can't remain a part of the institution anymore, it doesn't really matter. They'll come to their senses eventually. This is just a phase.
Hear me, those who would believe this. My generation is not a phase. We are not a fad. You can't write us off just because we're inconvenient.
If I sound angry about this it's because I am. The fact that it is seen as OK by anyone within the Christian Church to simply stop engaging a group of people for a period of time because they tend not to mesh well with what is seen as the established Church structure is a fundamental insult to what Jesus did on the cross. There is so much wrong with this view that I honestly can't articulate very well in this setting.
Some of you may be wondering why I waited so long to talk about this article (it did, after all, come out in November). I've waited because I don't like ranting about things without having some measure of hope to bring to the table. So I've been digging for a while. Looking at both what people have been writing and what people around me have been doing, I'm excited to say that I've found a heaping helping of hope in the face of this, the abandonment of an entire generation. There are plenty of people who are following Jesus well, recognizing that just because younger people have questions and problems with Christianity and the Church doesn't mean they should be forgotten. A recent book, unChristian, does a phenomenal job of showing just how much time is being taken by some to go out and examine why so many younger people have serious problems with Christianity (side note; a very, very small portion of this people have a problem with Jesus. Why do we think that is?).
I have been blessed to not live in a Christian community where I feel as though I have been forgotten, or that my generation has been forgotten. I hope that these sorts of communities are in the minority. I want to say this to those generations who have come before us. My generation is asking a lot of tough, very important questions, that are often extremely intimidating. I would argue that we are questioning ideas of faith more than any Western generation which has come before us. This means we can be much harder to engage with. It also means that we need to be engaged more urgently than ever before. Please, don't forget about us.
With His love and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Embracing the Moment When Apathy and Analogy Collide.
I didn't very much feel like writing this week. Wait, no, I'm lying to you, which is bad. I felt like writing. The issue more fell into the realm of I didn't feel very inspired to write. Usually, I have a pretty clear idea as to what it is that I need to say. Half the time, the Holy Spirit takes over and I end up looking back over my post thinking to myself "I don't really remember writing most of this, but it's good so I guess let's keep it." This week, however, when thinking on what my topic would be, I got a great big pile of "meh" dumped in my brain. I found myself with a distinct lack of desire to engage.
This lack of desire eventually got me thinking, however. How often do we let the lack of inspiration prevent us from doing something? I don't think I can count the number of times I've let this happen, with examples found in a myriad of different situations. From playing Rock Band because I just didn't feel like doing that reading, to failing in sin because I just didn't feel like resisting a temptation, I find it's a fairly common experience to let a lack of inspiration be my driver in life. A driver who, though very friendly (and quite dapper in his neat little hat), is on a prolonged course for an epic crash into a brick wall.
Wait, what!? I don't see any brick wall, this guy is crazy, let's go ride bikes.
Now you stop right there ambiguous other voice which sometimes appears out of nowhere! Think about it, of course we can't see that brick wall. In the midst of out apathy, we don't really care enough to look around, and in my experience it tends to be pretty hard to find things which we aren't truly looking for.
So just where is this wall? It's in a different place for each of us. For some, it's right around the corner. It's that paper you've forgotten about, that presentation you haven't prepared for. For others, it's way down the road. The wall isn't even in the metaphorical distance right now. These farther away walls tend to be of greater importance than the closer ones, yet we still don't pay attention to them. I think we get an idea in our heads that somewhere down the line, we'll clean up our act and everything will be better. The wall will just somehow magically disappear.
To be honest, that's crap.
We need to think about the kind of precedent we are building here in the present. I think it is pretty silly of me to think that I can just bum around now and somehow be able to be all that I need to be in the heat of the moment. If I don't feel like doing my assigned work now, what happens when I have people depending on me and I get fired because I didn't feel like doing my job? If I don't feel like managing my money now, what happens if I get a family some day and I don't feel like saving for my kid's future. If I don't feel like sacrificing my time and freedom now for the sake of someone else , what happens when I don't feel like sacrificing my freedom by being faithful to my wife? I know this might sound a little over the top and maybe a bit judgmental, but please know that anything I post here is first a conviction of myself before it is a comment on anyone else's life. I honestly think this is something that is extremely dangerous if left ignored.
All this to say, we have to recognize that we are building our futures right now, in this moment. We can't expect to cave to apathy and lethargy now and somehow be able to not do it in the future. In light of all this, I invite you to join me in telling the apathy driving our life to pull over, right this very instant (do it in an English accent if you like, it makes it more fun). Next, tell him to get out of the car. Finally, get out, walk up to him, punch him in the face, and then walk away.
Once we've been able to deny that lethargy, I believe we're going to find another person trying to influence us. I haven't lied to you all before, and I won't start now, I honestly believe that person is God. He's been telling us to do stuff all along, we've just been too wrapped up in our "meh" to pay attention. Sometimes, He will tell us to do things that we really don't want to do. This, however, is where trust comes in. It's not easy, but there are an endless number of examples of people who have given their lives over to God and seen amazing things happen. Go check some of them out. He's been doing it right for a long time. I encourage you to let Him give a try with your life.
With His love and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
This lack of desire eventually got me thinking, however. How often do we let the lack of inspiration prevent us from doing something? I don't think I can count the number of times I've let this happen, with examples found in a myriad of different situations. From playing Rock Band because I just didn't feel like doing that reading, to failing in sin because I just didn't feel like resisting a temptation, I find it's a fairly common experience to let a lack of inspiration be my driver in life. A driver who, though very friendly (and quite dapper in his neat little hat), is on a prolonged course for an epic crash into a brick wall.
Wait, what!? I don't see any brick wall, this guy is crazy, let's go ride bikes.
Now you stop right there ambiguous other voice which sometimes appears out of nowhere! Think about it, of course we can't see that brick wall. In the midst of out apathy, we don't really care enough to look around, and in my experience it tends to be pretty hard to find things which we aren't truly looking for.
So just where is this wall? It's in a different place for each of us. For some, it's right around the corner. It's that paper you've forgotten about, that presentation you haven't prepared for. For others, it's way down the road. The wall isn't even in the metaphorical distance right now. These farther away walls tend to be of greater importance than the closer ones, yet we still don't pay attention to them. I think we get an idea in our heads that somewhere down the line, we'll clean up our act and everything will be better. The wall will just somehow magically disappear.
To be honest, that's crap.
We need to think about the kind of precedent we are building here in the present. I think it is pretty silly of me to think that I can just bum around now and somehow be able to be all that I need to be in the heat of the moment. If I don't feel like doing my assigned work now, what happens when I have people depending on me and I get fired because I didn't feel like doing my job? If I don't feel like managing my money now, what happens if I get a family some day and I don't feel like saving for my kid's future. If I don't feel like sacrificing my time and freedom now for the sake of someone else , what happens when I don't feel like sacrificing my freedom by being faithful to my wife? I know this might sound a little over the top and maybe a bit judgmental, but please know that anything I post here is first a conviction of myself before it is a comment on anyone else's life. I honestly think this is something that is extremely dangerous if left ignored.
All this to say, we have to recognize that we are building our futures right now, in this moment. We can't expect to cave to apathy and lethargy now and somehow be able to not do it in the future. In light of all this, I invite you to join me in telling the apathy driving our life to pull over, right this very instant (do it in an English accent if you like, it makes it more fun). Next, tell him to get out of the car. Finally, get out, walk up to him, punch him in the face, and then walk away.
Once we've been able to deny that lethargy, I believe we're going to find another person trying to influence us. I haven't lied to you all before, and I won't start now, I honestly believe that person is God. He's been telling us to do stuff all along, we've just been too wrapped up in our "meh" to pay attention. Sometimes, He will tell us to do things that we really don't want to do. This, however, is where trust comes in. It's not easy, but there are an endless number of examples of people who have given their lives over to God and seen amazing things happen. Go check some of them out. He's been doing it right for a long time. I encourage you to let Him give a try with your life.
With His love and hopefully His grace,
Taylor
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