Zoning prohibits me from getting a cow. This saddens me.
As some may be aware, I recently made the move out to Ellensburg, Washington. As expected things are a bit different out here. If I may, some initial perceptions I have of my new place of residence:
1. Spellcheck doesn't recognize my existence.
It's a bit strange to move to a place which computer programs assume you have spelled wrong. These angry red dots tell me I'm incorrect, when in reality all I'm trying to do is share about my new home. Apparently small-town Washington isn't fancy enough for the likes of Apple. They even have the audacity to suggest no spelling corrections, as though the name of my new town is so ridiculous they can't even try to correct my obvious failure.
2. I live in a country song.
On my drive out to church (which is about ten minutes outside of Ellensburg proper) I happened to glance off to the side of my car and see a certain field. My first thought, I kiddeth not, was "that looks like a field someone would walk through in a music video for a country song while contemplating some tragic circumstance." Something tells me the local music scene out here is going to be a bit different than in Bellingham.
3. Most of the town closes at 6pm.
Though it's nice of them to stay open for people getting off work, this seems odd for a college town. I'm going to assume this is just a reflection of a student culture which enjoys retiring to their rooms after dinner and quietly working on there homework while listening to smooth jazz. Yeah. College students totally do that.
As I thought about these initial impressions, a question came into existence:
Why are these my first thoughts about this place?
If I were to describe the tone of the above list in a word, I think "snarky" would fit the bill. As an initial reaction, I subconsciously chose to be critical of this new place, to point out the things that were different, especially if they seemed to be different in a negative way.
Why, for example, did I choose not to notice how friendly everyone is here? Not a single person has failed to ask me personal questions about what brought me to Ellensburg as soon as they discover I am new in town. Moreover, why is my first instinct to make fun of the country song field as opposed to remarking at how strangely beautiful wheat is as it blows back and forth in the wind?
I've come to realize that my opinion of this new place is completely dependent on what I choose to see. I can love this place or choose to criticize it, and that's largely up to me. Sure, some places are just bad, even if that is only because of personal preference. It seems, though, that we (or at least I) might have a tendency to make a place worse than it deserves.
In light of this, how will we choose to see how our new settings? How will we look at that new campus? That new abode? That new community? We choose to have a certain opinion. What if we chose to have a different one?
With God's love and grace,
Taylor
Friday, September 7, 2012
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
A (Hopefully) Unnecessary Reminder
"Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone." — Colossians 4:6.
The above verse applies to any and all communication conducted by someone who chooses to follow Jesus. In particular, I think this verse deserves reflection as we enter fully into this election season.
With the Republican National Convention underway, and the Democratic counterpart soon to follow, I've seen the communication of those around me become increasing emotional. Be it rage, sarcasm, sorrow, or any other feeling, the extremes of political discourse seem to be making more and more of an appearance.
Honestly, it saddens me very deeply that we who claim to follow Christ would abandon Scripture's mandate so readily in the face of something as trivial as American politics. I say trivial not because politics do not matter for this world. They matter a great deal, and it is important that we intelligently engage in political discourse. I say trivial because spiritual concerns are infinitely more important than temporal ones. Our spiritual commitments should always outweigh those of this world.
Scripture is very clear about how we are to act towards each other. We are to be humble, patient, and filled with grace. How can we be anything else, with all of the grace we have been shown?
I know that during this time it can be very tempting to set down the truth of Scripture as we enter the political arena. I implore you, however, especially if you consider yourself a follower of Jesus, to remember grace. May we set ourselves apart as a generation who brings patient, loving reason back into political conversation. May we deny the fabricated hatred promoted by the world around us. We have available to us grace which covers over acts more atrocious than we can ever hope to comprehend. May we have the humility to be patient and loving with those who offend us in an infinitely less significant fashion.
With God's love and grace,
Taylor
The above verse applies to any and all communication conducted by someone who chooses to follow Jesus. In particular, I think this verse deserves reflection as we enter fully into this election season.
With the Republican National Convention underway, and the Democratic counterpart soon to follow, I've seen the communication of those around me become increasing emotional. Be it rage, sarcasm, sorrow, or any other feeling, the extremes of political discourse seem to be making more and more of an appearance.
Honestly, it saddens me very deeply that we who claim to follow Christ would abandon Scripture's mandate so readily in the face of something as trivial as American politics. I say trivial not because politics do not matter for this world. They matter a great deal, and it is important that we intelligently engage in political discourse. I say trivial because spiritual concerns are infinitely more important than temporal ones. Our spiritual commitments should always outweigh those of this world.
Scripture is very clear about how we are to act towards each other. We are to be humble, patient, and filled with grace. How can we be anything else, with all of the grace we have been shown?
I know that during this time it can be very tempting to set down the truth of Scripture as we enter the political arena. I implore you, however, especially if you consider yourself a follower of Jesus, to remember grace. May we set ourselves apart as a generation who brings patient, loving reason back into political conversation. May we deny the fabricated hatred promoted by the world around us. We have available to us grace which covers over acts more atrocious than we can ever hope to comprehend. May we have the humility to be patient and loving with those who offend us in an infinitely less significant fashion.
With God's love and grace,
Taylor
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Barn Chronicles: Volume Two
Lesson 2: Owls Make Bad Roommates
For this post, a small primer on owls might prove helpful. Two attributes of owls stand out as particularly pertinent:
1. Owls are nocturnal.
2. Owls that live in my particular barn make a sound one could describe as horrific screeching. No pleasant hooting here, oh no. No no. No.
These two attributes (combined with the fact that I am decidedly not nocturnal and find horrific screeching to be fairly bothersome) have made my life slightly more difficult.
Most of the difficulty has come from my inability to understand the aforementioned owls. I know it sounds like I'm getting a tad excessive in my desire to comprehend, but this is what I do. I ask "why?" questions over and over until I hit a brick wall. Then I stare at the brick wall and ask "why?"
I actually managed to avoid that brick wall in relation to my current roommate (the owl, for those just joining us from the coverage of Olympic Puddle Jumping). The answer:
Because that's just what owls do.
At first, this didn't seem like a satisfactory answer at all. If this ridiculous nocturnal screeching is "just what owls do," how can I hope to do anything about it? And there's the rub. I want to be able to do something about this behavior. I want to be able to fix it, to solve my problem. Yet no amount of yelling or pleading or gunfire will change the fact that owls will persist in their nocturnality. That last solution might solve the screeching, but only until more owls show up.
This difficulty goes well beyond owls, as I'm sure we can all understand. Sometimes, we come across a problem, say in a person, which seems to be so innate that there is absolutely nothing we can do about it on our own. Not permanently, anyway. We might be able to inspire a temporary solution (i.e. gunfire + owls = momentary quiet), but the root issue is still there. Owls are still nocturnal. That person is still unforgiving. Our world is still full of people who just can't seem to stop hating each other. Feel free to go as deep or shallow as you like in regards to these problems.
I'm not arguing that we should stop trying to solve problems. That involves giving up hope, something I simply will not do (ever). Instead, I'm saying we need something beyond ourselves, because clearly we aren't capable of fixing every problem in the world on our own. Adding more people to the equation might help. However, increasing the amount of people who can't truly solve a problem doesn't seem to increase the likelihood of the problem being solved.
Instead, my experience here in the barn is telling me that we need to hope in something greater. For those who know me, you know that my bigger thing (or in this case person) is Jesus Christ. For those who didn't know, now you do. I think hope should have a basis, and Jesus certainly has that.
So thank you, owls. Thank you for reminding me who it is that I can hope in when problems seem too innate to be solved. Now please go to sleep, it's two in the morning.
With God's love and grace (in a barn),
Taylor
P.S. That "basis" I talked about for believing in Jesus is fairly vague, I know, but I don't have room to explore it in its totality here. Let me know if you would be interested in hearing more specifics on that.
For this post, a small primer on owls might prove helpful. Two attributes of owls stand out as particularly pertinent:
1. Owls are nocturnal.
2. Owls that live in my particular barn make a sound one could describe as horrific screeching. No pleasant hooting here, oh no. No no. No.
These two attributes (combined with the fact that I am decidedly not nocturnal and find horrific screeching to be fairly bothersome) have made my life slightly more difficult.
Most of the difficulty has come from my inability to understand the aforementioned owls. I know it sounds like I'm getting a tad excessive in my desire to comprehend, but this is what I do. I ask "why?" questions over and over until I hit a brick wall. Then I stare at the brick wall and ask "why?"
I actually managed to avoid that brick wall in relation to my current roommate (the owl, for those just joining us from the coverage of Olympic Puddle Jumping). The answer:
Because that's just what owls do.
At first, this didn't seem like a satisfactory answer at all. If this ridiculous nocturnal screeching is "just what owls do," how can I hope to do anything about it? And there's the rub. I want to be able to do something about this behavior. I want to be able to fix it, to solve my problem. Yet no amount of yelling or pleading or gunfire will change the fact that owls will persist in their nocturnality. That last solution might solve the screeching, but only until more owls show up.
This difficulty goes well beyond owls, as I'm sure we can all understand. Sometimes, we come across a problem, say in a person, which seems to be so innate that there is absolutely nothing we can do about it on our own. Not permanently, anyway. We might be able to inspire a temporary solution (i.e. gunfire + owls = momentary quiet), but the root issue is still there. Owls are still nocturnal. That person is still unforgiving. Our world is still full of people who just can't seem to stop hating each other. Feel free to go as deep or shallow as you like in regards to these problems.
I'm not arguing that we should stop trying to solve problems. That involves giving up hope, something I simply will not do (ever). Instead, I'm saying we need something beyond ourselves, because clearly we aren't capable of fixing every problem in the world on our own. Adding more people to the equation might help. However, increasing the amount of people who can't truly solve a problem doesn't seem to increase the likelihood of the problem being solved.
Instead, my experience here in the barn is telling me that we need to hope in something greater. For those who know me, you know that my bigger thing (or in this case person) is Jesus Christ. For those who didn't know, now you do. I think hope should have a basis, and Jesus certainly has that.
So thank you, owls. Thank you for reminding me who it is that I can hope in when problems seem too innate to be solved. Now please go to sleep, it's two in the morning.
With God's love and grace (in a barn),
Taylor
P.S. That "basis" I talked about for believing in Jesus is fairly vague, I know, but I don't have room to explore it in its totality here. Let me know if you would be interested in hearing more specifics on that.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Barn Chronicles: Volume One
And so it begins.
For those of you who are not aware, I will be living in a barn for the next month.To clarify, there are no animals in this barn (though there are two horses, several chickens, two dogs, an owl, and some unconfirmed raccoons nearby).
I'm learning a lot, even in the short time that I've been here (I moved in today). I thought it might be fun to share some of what I have been learning. Thus, for the next little while, Third Chronicles will masquerade as its alter ego, Barn Chronicles.
Lesson One: Barns Shrink Problems
Barns are what one might call...vulnerable. For example, I possess a great deal of intimacy with the outside world. There are several ways in which an animal could somehow wander into this place, ways that I'm not certain I can readily seal off. I may end up making fast friends (or eternal enemies) with, say, a raccoon. Or a deer. Or a chupacabra. I'm not sure what animals might come exploring. On top of this, I essentially live in a horror movie plot. How many movies involve someone hanging out in a barn and then getting murdered? I don't know, I don't really watch horror movies, but I'm guessing a lot.
When I think about this, all of the other problems in my life start to shrink. It's harder to worry about little things when you're confronted (even for just a little while) with a lack of assurance in your basic survival needs.
Strangely enough, I find this comforting. Thinking about only the most basic things in life provides a sense of clarity. As I and the mighty push broom Mjolnir swept out this place, my life got a thorough sweeping. Petty worries have dropped away, and what I'm left with are those things which are truly important to me; those people, things, and questions which are truly dear to my heart.
The practicality of this for those not living in a barn? Consider the advantage of a change of setting. Put yourself in a place where only the most basic needs must (and can) be met. Even if it's only for a small period of time. Do this at least once so you know what is most important to you, and then carry that knowledge out into the next chapter of your life.
Assuming I don't get mauled by a bear, I'm excited to see how this experience will shape me. Let me know if you have any fun ideas for things I should do in a barn. Who knows when I might get another chance?
With God's love and grace (in a barn),
Taylor
P.S. I'll have pictures up soon so people can see exactly what I mean by "barn."
P.P.S. Barn barn barn. I feel like I didn't say that enough during the post.
P.P.P.S. Barn.
For those of you who are not aware, I will be living in a barn for the next month.To clarify, there are no animals in this barn (though there are two horses, several chickens, two dogs, an owl, and some unconfirmed raccoons nearby).
I'm learning a lot, even in the short time that I've been here (I moved in today). I thought it might be fun to share some of what I have been learning. Thus, for the next little while, Third Chronicles will masquerade as its alter ego, Barn Chronicles.
Lesson One: Barns Shrink Problems
Barns are what one might call...vulnerable. For example, I possess a great deal of intimacy with the outside world. There are several ways in which an animal could somehow wander into this place, ways that I'm not certain I can readily seal off. I may end up making fast friends (or eternal enemies) with, say, a raccoon. Or a deer. Or a chupacabra. I'm not sure what animals might come exploring. On top of this, I essentially live in a horror movie plot. How many movies involve someone hanging out in a barn and then getting murdered? I don't know, I don't really watch horror movies, but I'm guessing a lot.
When I think about this, all of the other problems in my life start to shrink. It's harder to worry about little things when you're confronted (even for just a little while) with a lack of assurance in your basic survival needs.
Strangely enough, I find this comforting. Thinking about only the most basic things in life provides a sense of clarity. As I and the mighty push broom Mjolnir swept out this place, my life got a thorough sweeping. Petty worries have dropped away, and what I'm left with are those things which are truly important to me; those people, things, and questions which are truly dear to my heart.
The practicality of this for those not living in a barn? Consider the advantage of a change of setting. Put yourself in a place where only the most basic needs must (and can) be met. Even if it's only for a small period of time. Do this at least once so you know what is most important to you, and then carry that knowledge out into the next chapter of your life.
Assuming I don't get mauled by a bear, I'm excited to see how this experience will shape me. Let me know if you have any fun ideas for things I should do in a barn. Who knows when I might get another chance?
With God's love and grace (in a barn),
Taylor
P.S. I'll have pictures up soon so people can see exactly what I mean by "barn."
P.P.S. Barn barn barn. I feel like I didn't say that enough during the post.
P.P.P.S. Barn.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Denying the Death of Creativity
First, watch this thing. If nothing else, watch the first four minutes.
http://www.ted.com/talks/ken_robinson_says_schools_kill_creativity.html
Though this video is going on six years old, it's message is still tragically true.
Whether we realize it or not, much of our creativity has been killed off. We have a subconscious fear of trying something new because we are the products of a culture which trains us to believe that new ideas are often too dangerous to be pursued. Couple this with our ingrained need for affirmation in order to feel successful and you have a society which subtly ostracizes those who would operate outside of the norm.
Some of you may be thinking of very creative people who are society seems to celebrate. True, certain hallmark individuals have tried something new and were heralded as heroes. I'm glad you're thinking of these people, because I think they teach us a great deal about how creativity works in our society. We love creativity, but only when it "works."
An example; the film "Moneyball." If you haven't seen this movie yet, go watch it, because I'm about to ruin the ending (though it's still a very good story). Essentially, a man tries to reinvent the governing system of baseball, a system which has existed for over a century. In some ways, this man's new concept worked well. In the end, however, they didn't win the last game of the season, and this new ideology was decried as a failure.
Each of us has a time in mind when this happened. We tried something new, and ultimately it didn't work out, and we wanted to scrap the whole thing as a failure. I see this unfolding in my own blog archive. My post prior to this one didn't pan out the way I had hoped, and my friend James helped me to realize I had gone after that particular experiment with the wrong intentions. After thinking about it a great deal, I decided to abandon the project. The reason I haven't posted anything for almost four months is because I fell into the lie that if one creative idea doesn't pan out how you thought it would, it's better to scrap the whole thing than risk again.
This thinking, all too popular in our society, is destructive in more ways than we can imagine. The danger of only looking at the "success" of something in the short game is greater than we could know. Let's take a look at a some examples of pivotal events which, at first, look an awful lot like failures.
The Exodus: In terms of short term gains, the Exodus of God's people out of Egypt was a pretty gigantic failure. The Israelites traveled through the desert, experiencing God's provision and looking forward to the promised land. Upon arriving at said promised land, they got scared and ran the other way. In turn, they ended up wandering around the desert until an entire generation was dead.
Does that sound like something that worked? Absolutely not! This pattern of early failures continues throughout Scripture. Take another example:
Jesus After Feeding the Five Thousand: At the time in which Jesus had the most people following him, he decides to drop what someone might refer to as a "truth bomb," including some strange demands that sound an awful lot like cannibalism. At the end of the day, his crowds of thousands dwindled down until we're not sure who's left except the twelve guys who didn't really have anywhere else to go (John 6:68).
This continues right up to the modern day. A friend lamented to me that it seemed the gospel just wasn't having much of an effect. Our Christian community on campus seemed to be drawing in a bunch of people who were already Christian. Those who didn't already love Jesus seemed to be fantastically disinterested. From a certain viewpoint, it doesn't really seem like the modern Church is "working."
All this can seem pretty hopeless, but what happens if we stop? What would have happened if each of these new, creative ideas were abandoned?
The future of many things, including God's message to this world, have been given to us. We are the child Sir Robinson talks about, trying to draw the picture of God. At times, our picture looks ugly, misshapen, it looks like it failed. It certainly doesn't help that our society plays the role of the teacher, telling us we might as well give up because "nobody knows what God looks like." What happens if we choose to believe in that voice?
Let's not find out. Let's be the people who say to that teacher "they will in a minute," and keep right on drawing.
With God's love and grace,
Taylor
http://www.ted.com/talks/ken_robinson_says_schools_kill_creativity.html
Though this video is going on six years old, it's message is still tragically true.
Whether we realize it or not, much of our creativity has been killed off. We have a subconscious fear of trying something new because we are the products of a culture which trains us to believe that new ideas are often too dangerous to be pursued. Couple this with our ingrained need for affirmation in order to feel successful and you have a society which subtly ostracizes those who would operate outside of the norm.
Some of you may be thinking of very creative people who are society seems to celebrate. True, certain hallmark individuals have tried something new and were heralded as heroes. I'm glad you're thinking of these people, because I think they teach us a great deal about how creativity works in our society. We love creativity, but only when it "works."
An example; the film "Moneyball." If you haven't seen this movie yet, go watch it, because I'm about to ruin the ending (though it's still a very good story). Essentially, a man tries to reinvent the governing system of baseball, a system which has existed for over a century. In some ways, this man's new concept worked well. In the end, however, they didn't win the last game of the season, and this new ideology was decried as a failure.
Each of us has a time in mind when this happened. We tried something new, and ultimately it didn't work out, and we wanted to scrap the whole thing as a failure. I see this unfolding in my own blog archive. My post prior to this one didn't pan out the way I had hoped, and my friend James helped me to realize I had gone after that particular experiment with the wrong intentions. After thinking about it a great deal, I decided to abandon the project. The reason I haven't posted anything for almost four months is because I fell into the lie that if one creative idea doesn't pan out how you thought it would, it's better to scrap the whole thing than risk again.
This thinking, all too popular in our society, is destructive in more ways than we can imagine. The danger of only looking at the "success" of something in the short game is greater than we could know. Let's take a look at a some examples of pivotal events which, at first, look an awful lot like failures.
The Exodus: In terms of short term gains, the Exodus of God's people out of Egypt was a pretty gigantic failure. The Israelites traveled through the desert, experiencing God's provision and looking forward to the promised land. Upon arriving at said promised land, they got scared and ran the other way. In turn, they ended up wandering around the desert until an entire generation was dead.
Does that sound like something that worked? Absolutely not! This pattern of early failures continues throughout Scripture. Take another example:
Jesus After Feeding the Five Thousand: At the time in which Jesus had the most people following him, he decides to drop what someone might refer to as a "truth bomb," including some strange demands that sound an awful lot like cannibalism. At the end of the day, his crowds of thousands dwindled down until we're not sure who's left except the twelve guys who didn't really have anywhere else to go (John 6:68).
This continues right up to the modern day. A friend lamented to me that it seemed the gospel just wasn't having much of an effect. Our Christian community on campus seemed to be drawing in a bunch of people who were already Christian. Those who didn't already love Jesus seemed to be fantastically disinterested. From a certain viewpoint, it doesn't really seem like the modern Church is "working."
All this can seem pretty hopeless, but what happens if we stop? What would have happened if each of these new, creative ideas were abandoned?
The future of many things, including God's message to this world, have been given to us. We are the child Sir Robinson talks about, trying to draw the picture of God. At times, our picture looks ugly, misshapen, it looks like it failed. It certainly doesn't help that our society plays the role of the teacher, telling us we might as well give up because "nobody knows what God looks like." What happens if we choose to believe in that voice?
Let's not find out. Let's be the people who say to that teacher "they will in a minute," and keep right on drawing.
With God's love and grace,
Taylor
Thursday, April 26, 2012
I Should Probably Have an Intervention
Must...read...bibliographies...
As I awoke this morning, "I sensed something, a presence I have not felt since"...well since I was a student. This presence was my inner history monster, emerging from his slumber. As he rose, he made something very clear. He hungers.
I said to my history monster "Old friend! It has been far too long. I see that you possess the deepest of desires, though I cannot discern your need. Tell me, o history monster, how is it that you might be satisfied?"
He lifted his eyes from the ground and in a hushed tone uttered "Research."
Friends, the history monster must be fed, and I am the one to feed him. The great thing is, you all get to help!
Last post I talked about the tragic reality of the ignorance which exists within much of the Christian Church. In particular, I pointed out how (as we have the opportunity, ability, and leading) we should do all that we can to help exorcise this ignorance from our community. Part of the way in which we can do this is by simply exploring topics with which we're unfamiliar. All of us, even those who claim to have the greatest sense of enlightenment, all lack knowledge of some kind. If we want to stop being ignorant, a basic step is to start learning.
So I'm taking my own advice, and I'm going to try to start helping. In truth, I long to do research again. I long to sit in a library for hours on end, paging through books only to be led to more books. I long to ask hard-hitting interview questions like:
"Could you spell that name one more time, please?"
I want to use this gift (or affliction, as some of you may see it) to help grow understanding, mine included. In light of this, I propose a project. See that nifty comment section at the bottom of the page? I want you to post something you have questions about that relates in some way to God, spirituality in general (which could include any number of different faiths), or Christianity more specifically. This can look like "How do God and ______ relate?" or "What does Christianity have to say about ______?" or any other quandaries you may have. As these questions get posted, I'll go do research (cue salivating) and write something up in response.
Some important clarifications:
1. I can only do so much in a certain period of time. My goal with this cannot be a comprehensive response to everyone's question, as they will hopefully be far too interesting for that. As a friend likes to say, "I don't like to give simplistic answers to complex questions." I will, however, do all that I can to help grow understanding.
2. I want to say up front that I will be speaking from a limited perspective, my own. I will most likely not be an expert in many of the fields discussed. I will find people who are, and try to seek as much knowledge from them as possible, but I do operate in a limited sphere of existence.
3. With those things said, I will commit to doing my due diligence. I really love this sort of thing, and I do hereby swear to invest all that I can.
You know something? I'm quite excited for this. Thank you for helping me with my adorable addiction.
With God's love and grace,
Taylor
As I awoke this morning, "I sensed something, a presence I have not felt since"...well since I was a student. This presence was my inner history monster, emerging from his slumber. As he rose, he made something very clear. He hungers.
I said to my history monster "Old friend! It has been far too long. I see that you possess the deepest of desires, though I cannot discern your need. Tell me, o history monster, how is it that you might be satisfied?"
He lifted his eyes from the ground and in a hushed tone uttered "Research."
Friends, the history monster must be fed, and I am the one to feed him. The great thing is, you all get to help!
Last post I talked about the tragic reality of the ignorance which exists within much of the Christian Church. In particular, I pointed out how (as we have the opportunity, ability, and leading) we should do all that we can to help exorcise this ignorance from our community. Part of the way in which we can do this is by simply exploring topics with which we're unfamiliar. All of us, even those who claim to have the greatest sense of enlightenment, all lack knowledge of some kind. If we want to stop being ignorant, a basic step is to start learning.
So I'm taking my own advice, and I'm going to try to start helping. In truth, I long to do research again. I long to sit in a library for hours on end, paging through books only to be led to more books. I long to ask hard-hitting interview questions like:
"Could you spell that name one more time, please?"
I want to use this gift (or affliction, as some of you may see it) to help grow understanding, mine included. In light of this, I propose a project. See that nifty comment section at the bottom of the page? I want you to post something you have questions about that relates in some way to God, spirituality in general (which could include any number of different faiths), or Christianity more specifically. This can look like "How do God and ______ relate?" or "What does Christianity have to say about ______?" or any other quandaries you may have. As these questions get posted, I'll go do research (cue salivating) and write something up in response.
Some important clarifications:
1. I can only do so much in a certain period of time. My goal with this cannot be a comprehensive response to everyone's question, as they will hopefully be far too interesting for that. As a friend likes to say, "I don't like to give simplistic answers to complex questions." I will, however, do all that I can to help grow understanding.
2. I want to say up front that I will be speaking from a limited perspective, my own. I will most likely not be an expert in many of the fields discussed. I will find people who are, and try to seek as much knowledge from them as possible, but I do operate in a limited sphere of existence.
3. With those things said, I will commit to doing my due diligence. I really love this sort of thing, and I do hereby swear to invest all that I can.
You know something? I'm quite excited for this. Thank you for helping me with my adorable addiction.
With God's love and grace,
Taylor
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Let's Start Helping
"The main evidence against the truth of Christianity is the life of Christians."
— G.K. Chesterton
"The clouds roll with thunder, that the house of the Lord shall be built throughout the earth; and these frogs sit in their marsh and croak 'We are the only Christians!'"
— St. Augustine
God's family seems to be the most dysfunctional of all.
A goal of any group should be to relate well to itself. People within a group should be able to come to a healthy consensus on what it means to possess and live out a common belief. At least in this way, Christianity is a pretty crappy group. In a clutch, we're almost always quicker to condemn each other compared to our willingness to lovingly correct.
I'm sure it isn't difficult to generate a list of people who drag the name of Jesus through the mud. Some of us just thought of the Westboro Baptist Church. Others thought of some friends who are constantly saying things that come across as hateful, bigoted, or just plain ignorant. Regardless of the mental image, the message is the same; there are people who are claiming to represent the name of Jesus, but do a terrible job.
When "these people" are brought up in conversation, the reaction from Christians tends to be fairly uniform. Usually a statement along the lines of "Oh, I'm not like them, I'm a real Christian because of *insert reasons here*," makes an appearance. In a sense, this is an appropriate reaction. As Chesterton points out, Jesus is often misrepresented by His followers. Scripture declares, in truth, that "God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." Jesus didn't choose to die on a cross so that we could pick and choose who should hear the truth of God's love. As Christians, our lives boil down to "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength," and "love your neighbor as yourself." If we or one of our spiritual siblings are not living up to these commands, something should be said.
But what is it that we say? We, who claim to understand all that it is to be a Christian. We, who are so quick to divorce ourselves from our spiritual family with an "Oh, I'm not like them." We frogs, as Augustine would say.
When we are so quick to distance ourselves from anyone who even appears to misrepresent Christ, we do more than just split our own spiritual family. We scoff at God's intention for how He wants to spread His Kingdom. Jesus declares that we "will be [His] witnesses" throughout the entire world. God has chosen to use imperfect people to communicate His love and His grace. In this statement no stipulation is made that we must be this spiritually mature to ride this ride. Instead, Jesus opens the door wide and declares that if we have experienced any measure of His infinite grace we have the pleasure of being Jesus' mouthpiece to the world. How are we helping by declaring that everyone who bumbles over a single word isn't worthy of declaring God's love?
I'm the first one to admit that the Church could use some work. We could be better educated, we could be more engaged, and we could always be more loving. The question I have to ask myself, however, is what am I doing to help bring about this better version of the Church? Am I actively looking for opportunities to be a part of the solution, or only making the problem more apparent?
Tragically, both of the quotes which began this post are true. We often misrepresent God, and even when we think we have it all figured out we do little to help those trapped in ignorance. Thankfully, God recognizes this. What I see is a two-fold call for us to better represent Christ. When we misrepresent God, we should receive words of correction well, to respond to the shaping word of Scripture as it calls us to be more loving, more educated, more engaged. In short, more Christ-like. At the same time, however, we are called to be patient with each other. We are called to help each other grow in love, in understanding, in godliness. As much as we are called to be Jesus to the watching world, let's be certain we are also Jesus to each other.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
— G.K. Chesterton
"The clouds roll with thunder, that the house of the Lord shall be built throughout the earth; and these frogs sit in their marsh and croak 'We are the only Christians!'"
— St. Augustine
God's family seems to be the most dysfunctional of all.
A goal of any group should be to relate well to itself. People within a group should be able to come to a healthy consensus on what it means to possess and live out a common belief. At least in this way, Christianity is a pretty crappy group. In a clutch, we're almost always quicker to condemn each other compared to our willingness to lovingly correct.
I'm sure it isn't difficult to generate a list of people who drag the name of Jesus through the mud. Some of us just thought of the Westboro Baptist Church. Others thought of some friends who are constantly saying things that come across as hateful, bigoted, or just plain ignorant. Regardless of the mental image, the message is the same; there are people who are claiming to represent the name of Jesus, but do a terrible job.
When "these people" are brought up in conversation, the reaction from Christians tends to be fairly uniform. Usually a statement along the lines of "Oh, I'm not like them, I'm a real Christian because of *insert reasons here*," makes an appearance. In a sense, this is an appropriate reaction. As Chesterton points out, Jesus is often misrepresented by His followers. Scripture declares, in truth, that "God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." Jesus didn't choose to die on a cross so that we could pick and choose who should hear the truth of God's love. As Christians, our lives boil down to "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength," and "love your neighbor as yourself." If we or one of our spiritual siblings are not living up to these commands, something should be said.
But what is it that we say? We, who claim to understand all that it is to be a Christian. We, who are so quick to divorce ourselves from our spiritual family with an "Oh, I'm not like them." We frogs, as Augustine would say.
When we are so quick to distance ourselves from anyone who even appears to misrepresent Christ, we do more than just split our own spiritual family. We scoff at God's intention for how He wants to spread His Kingdom. Jesus declares that we "will be [His] witnesses" throughout the entire world. God has chosen to use imperfect people to communicate His love and His grace. In this statement no stipulation is made that we must be this spiritually mature to ride this ride. Instead, Jesus opens the door wide and declares that if we have experienced any measure of His infinite grace we have the pleasure of being Jesus' mouthpiece to the world. How are we helping by declaring that everyone who bumbles over a single word isn't worthy of declaring God's love?
I'm the first one to admit that the Church could use some work. We could be better educated, we could be more engaged, and we could always be more loving. The question I have to ask myself, however, is what am I doing to help bring about this better version of the Church? Am I actively looking for opportunities to be a part of the solution, or only making the problem more apparent?
Tragically, both of the quotes which began this post are true. We often misrepresent God, and even when we think we have it all figured out we do little to help those trapped in ignorance. Thankfully, God recognizes this. What I see is a two-fold call for us to better represent Christ. When we misrepresent God, we should receive words of correction well, to respond to the shaping word of Scripture as it calls us to be more loving, more educated, more engaged. In short, more Christ-like. At the same time, however, we are called to be patient with each other. We are called to help each other grow in love, in understanding, in godliness. As much as we are called to be Jesus to the watching world, let's be certain we are also Jesus to each other.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Too Big to Get Old
For the first time ever, I'm actually excited to be a father someday.
I once had a fear that I would eventually run out of things to learn about God. My late-teens persona thought to himself "by the time I'm, I don't know, 30, I'll probably have read the Bible and thought about God enough that I won't have anything else to learn." This was deeply troubling, as I didn't very much like the idea of my relationship with God hitting a proverbial brick wall. What happens then? Do I just simply wait for Jesus to come back? How tragically boring.
This fear was only compounded on occasions such as the one we celebrate this weekend, Easter. Join with me, friends, in solidarity at having heard the same Easter message over and over again. I haven't even been truly following the Lord all that long, and the messages already seem to run into each other.
Something feels fundamentally wrong about the idea of running out of things to think about God, especially around Easter. We're talking about someone, the best someone no less, being raised from the dead so that death might be conquered once and for all. This my sound like weird churchy language. Essentially, because of what Jesus did, we can choose to embrace a hope, a life which extends beyond anything we can experience here. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense because it is more beautiful than we can currently comprehend. This smacks of the sort of thing about which the well of reflection should never run dry. There should always be more thoughts to be thought on this subject Yet, here I am, feeling the imminent threat of a boring conceptualization of Easter.
How delighted I am, then, to be proven wrong.
At a recent devotional time in my house, my fellow Homemen (men who live in the Home, for those unaware) and I were sharing different reflections on Easter. One brother shared about how, for his father, it was having a son that changed everything. As my friend attended his first Easter ever, his father held him. As the teacher began to speak on God giving up His only Son so that we might be free, this particular father looked down at his own son, and realized on some level just how great a sacrifice God had made. On that day Easter was forever changed for this man.
In my current life setting, this reflection makes very little sense to me (largely based on my distinct lack of children). Nonetheless, I am incredibly excited for when this will finally make sense. I am excited for the day when I will be able to look down at my own son and think "Wow God, I don't know how you gave yours up, but thank you that you would make that sacrifice for me."
All this to say that this Easter I look forward with newfound hope. My life in God is ever changing. If I have learned anything from watching those who have gone before me in service to the Lord, it is that God seems to be quite good at keeping up with those changes. As I look towards tomorrow, I know God will teach me something new, an exciting aspect of His resurrection that I have never known previously. I choose to believe that all my Easters to come will be bring more of the same. I choose to let God not be boring. I hope that this Easter you would do the same.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
I once had a fear that I would eventually run out of things to learn about God. My late-teens persona thought to himself "by the time I'm, I don't know, 30, I'll probably have read the Bible and thought about God enough that I won't have anything else to learn." This was deeply troubling, as I didn't very much like the idea of my relationship with God hitting a proverbial brick wall. What happens then? Do I just simply wait for Jesus to come back? How tragically boring.
This fear was only compounded on occasions such as the one we celebrate this weekend, Easter. Join with me, friends, in solidarity at having heard the same Easter message over and over again. I haven't even been truly following the Lord all that long, and the messages already seem to run into each other.
Something feels fundamentally wrong about the idea of running out of things to think about God, especially around Easter. We're talking about someone, the best someone no less, being raised from the dead so that death might be conquered once and for all. This my sound like weird churchy language. Essentially, because of what Jesus did, we can choose to embrace a hope, a life which extends beyond anything we can experience here. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense because it is more beautiful than we can currently comprehend. This smacks of the sort of thing about which the well of reflection should never run dry. There should always be more thoughts to be thought on this subject Yet, here I am, feeling the imminent threat of a boring conceptualization of Easter.
How delighted I am, then, to be proven wrong.
At a recent devotional time in my house, my fellow Homemen (men who live in the Home, for those unaware) and I were sharing different reflections on Easter. One brother shared about how, for his father, it was having a son that changed everything. As my friend attended his first Easter ever, his father held him. As the teacher began to speak on God giving up His only Son so that we might be free, this particular father looked down at his own son, and realized on some level just how great a sacrifice God had made. On that day Easter was forever changed for this man.
In my current life setting, this reflection makes very little sense to me (largely based on my distinct lack of children). Nonetheless, I am incredibly excited for when this will finally make sense. I am excited for the day when I will be able to look down at my own son and think "Wow God, I don't know how you gave yours up, but thank you that you would make that sacrifice for me."
All this to say that this Easter I look forward with newfound hope. My life in God is ever changing. If I have learned anything from watching those who have gone before me in service to the Lord, it is that God seems to be quite good at keeping up with those changes. As I look towards tomorrow, I know God will teach me something new, an exciting aspect of His resurrection that I have never known previously. I choose to believe that all my Easters to come will be bring more of the same. I choose to let God not be boring. I hope that this Easter you would do the same.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Friday, March 30, 2012
Chalk Fades, God Doesn't
Last year around this time, I wrote about the spring student impact trip (lovingly referred to as SSI) in which I had the privilege of participating. This year, the same opportunity presents itself. In light of this, I begin now the telling of the tale of this year's SSI trip to Idaho State University.
Different Campus, Different Work
Some of you faithful readers will remember that last year's SSI blog was full of story after story of seemingly crazy, miraculous, other-wordly phenomena. Don't expect the same from this post. I can't decide whether or not I'm disappointed that I don't have more miraculous stories to share. The more I think on this, however, the more I realize that God is simply trying to prove a point. Of course I don't have more miraculous stories to share this year. To paraphrase, the work of God did in Stanislaus is what ISU deserves, but it's not the work it needs right now.
Some explanation is in order. One word could describe the climate of ISU's campus, oppressive. Much of this has to do with the pervasive judgment which exists on campus. ISU's population is 68% Mormon, and they feel the most judged of all. This perceived judgment comes both from stereotypes about Mormonism, and from the character of the faith itself (more on that in a bit). On the other hand, everyone else feels judged by the Mormon majority. Basically, the entire campus is constantly on edge to a certain extent, unwilling to engage for fear of being smacked down by someone.
It would be great to see God do oodles of miraculous works on ISU's campus. The problem is, an important foundation is missing in order for those works to occur. That foundation, simply put, is love. Now of course God can do whatever He wants whenever He wants to do it. However, from what I have seen the miraculous has much less verging on no impact when it is carried out without love. To paraphrase Scripture, we can perform all the miracles we want, but if we lack love, all we will be is a clanging, annoying gong which looks anything but attractive.
Though this sounds rather defeatist, I assure you our work at ISU was anything but. On a campus where judgment reigns, the pure unadulterated love of God for His people comes like a bucket of cold water to a sleeper. It's shocking, but it awakens a person to a reality they never knew existed; a reality in which they are cared for more deeply than they could imagine, in which their lives have a purpose of which they could only dream. This was our goal at ISU, to proclaim (in no uncertain terms) the true love of God for His people.
All's (not) Fair in Love...
Establishing this foundation of love is anything but easy. Sometimes, maybe most times, the difficulty of loving as God loves is not inspired by any opposition to God, but rather by the people who choose to follow Him. Tragically, I fell into this herd of the unloving in the beginning portion of our trip.
As I mentioned, there is a substantial Mormon majority on ISU's campus. In brief, Mormonism made me very angry. The teachings of Mormonism twists the gospel in a way that hobbles the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, requiring people to spend this life and all of eternity paying off a debt which Jesus already payed for them. I hate (and I do not use that word lightly) that an institution would pervert something so beautiful, turning into an oppressive burden. Because of this hatred, part of me was very excited to go to ISU, but for all the wrong reasons. I wanted to go and prove Mormonism wrong, to definitively demonstrate the ridiculousness of this cult so that the world might be free from it. I wanted to give Mormonism a rather irate piece of my mind, and quite honestly I thought they deserved it.
Thankfully, I am not in charge of dictating God's plan. Thankfully, God's love completely overlooks that which we may or may not deserve. Thankfully, God works in spite of me, and chooses to make His love unfair.
As soon as we arrived at ISU, the campus ministry there made something very clear; we were not there to argue with Mormons. We were there to love them. This came as a shock to many on our team, including myself. How could I love a group I hated so? As Daniel (the campus pastor at ISU) shared, however, my understanding of Mormonism began to change. Those who identify as Mormon are not villains, but rather victims. Most Mormons are born into a Mormon family, and thus have grown up in a lie for the entirety of their lives. Even those who convert to Mormonism have simply been deceived. Go to a Mormon temple, walk through their visitor center, and see how close to the truth of Jesus the message of this cult comes. See if you don't have a hard time weeding out the lies from the truth.
As I thought on this, I wondered, what does hating Mormons accomplish? All I do is increase an oppressive burden which these people already feel. The Mormon version of Jesus acts (to use crude terms) as a lone shark, taking on our debt, but still demanding that we pay him off. Rather than money, however, Mormonism demands a perfect life, measured out in good deeds. This is completely impossible, and many Mormons feel this burden everyday. How am I reflecting the love of God by enforcing this oppression?
Through this reflection, God pointed out that I have no right to be an agent of hate. If I want to see Mormonism eradicated from this world, I can't do it with a sword, be it one of steel or of speech. All I can do is invite people to know the true Jesus, the one who sacrificed Himself to that we might be free from the burden of our sin and embrace the most loving relationship imaginable. Praise the Lord that His love is infinitely more powerful than any hatred I can muster.
...and War
If one is to minister at ISU, they must first recognize that it is a very spiritually dark place. In fact, when the area was first settled by Mormons, the entire valley was dedicated to the "angel" Moroni. Basically, this chunk of Idaho was handed over to demonic powers, who were told "Here, do whatever you want, make this place terrible." This might sound like weird language, so I'll take some time to explain.
Scripture tells us that our battle "is not against flesh and blood, but against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms (Ephesians 6:12)." C.S. Lewis likens becoming a Christian to suddenly realizing that you have woken up in the middle of a war, and you are behind enemy lines. Christianity is not some passive, boring faith. It's located in the middle of a war zone, and anyone who would follow after God must acknowledge this. In fact, whether or not someone recognizes God, the reality of this spiritual war is still present. In recognizing our place in this battle, it is pivotal to remember that God's power is infinitely greater than all that comes against Him. In God, we have nothing to fear from this fight. Jesus already won the war on a cross a couple thousand years ago. The struggles we see today are simply closing skirmishes.
These skirmishes do have casualties, however, and the pain they inspire is very real. We experienced much of this on our trip. Our team was afflicted with persistent health problems, physical weariness, depression, as well as constant fear and doubt. These were new experiences for many on our team. In short, this was their introduction to the battle they had been adjacent to their whole lives. Why did they suddenly experience this hardship? Because they had finally taken hold of their role as soldiers on the front line, declaring the love of God to a world which desperately needs to hear it.
Yes, we experienced much spiritual oppression, but as I said, the power of God is infinitely greater than any opposition. I do have one story to share that I think illustrates this well. On Thursday night (the night after our last full day of ministry on campus), I was relaxing at the house I was staying in. I received a call from one of the interns at ISU, informing me that one of our students was experiencing severe abdominal pain and was having difficulty breathing. Her host was taking her and another member of our team to the ER. Quickly getting dressed, I rushed upstairs where I ran into Daniel who decided to come with me.
As we left the house, I began praying that God would heal my teammate. I suddenly felt a peace I can only describe as transcendent, and I knew our team member was going to be absolutely fine. I arrived at the hospital with this assurance in mind, and as our team gathered around this girl and prayed, the peace only grew. Within twenty minutes, she was completely asymptomatic. We spent the next hour watching the Shawshank Redemption as we waited for some blood work, which came back completely clean. Praying more on this, I've come to realize that this was Satan trying to scare our team, to get us to think not on all the victory which had come over ISU's campus in God's name, but rather this one scary thing which happened late on a Thursday night. How refreshing to see that, indeed, God's power trumps anything which comes against it.
I understand that not all of what I have written makes sense. I also understand that it may seem scary. If you like, I would love to talk on the reality of spiritual warfare more. Just let me know.
We're Gone, God's Not
One day on campus, some of our students sprayed (with permission) the word "epic" onto the sidewalk around campus. This word, while also acting as the focus of conversation for our outreach at ISU, accurately describes the trip. We had the chance to be a part of an epic story, which in which lives were changed, especially our own. As I walked around campus late Thursday, I saw that many of the chalk sprays had begun to fade. At first, this saddened me, as it seemed as though our mark on campus was already being forgotten. What reassured me, however, is that fact that the work which God carries out in people's hearts does not fade so readily. We have simply started a process. We have only planted a seed. I look forward with hopeful expectation to the faithful work which God will continue at ISU. Lord knows it's going to be amazing.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Different Campus, Different Work
Some of you faithful readers will remember that last year's SSI blog was full of story after story of seemingly crazy, miraculous, other-wordly phenomena. Don't expect the same from this post. I can't decide whether or not I'm disappointed that I don't have more miraculous stories to share. The more I think on this, however, the more I realize that God is simply trying to prove a point. Of course I don't have more miraculous stories to share this year. To paraphrase, the work of God did in Stanislaus is what ISU deserves, but it's not the work it needs right now.
Some explanation is in order. One word could describe the climate of ISU's campus, oppressive. Much of this has to do with the pervasive judgment which exists on campus. ISU's population is 68% Mormon, and they feel the most judged of all. This perceived judgment comes both from stereotypes about Mormonism, and from the character of the faith itself (more on that in a bit). On the other hand, everyone else feels judged by the Mormon majority. Basically, the entire campus is constantly on edge to a certain extent, unwilling to engage for fear of being smacked down by someone.
It would be great to see God do oodles of miraculous works on ISU's campus. The problem is, an important foundation is missing in order for those works to occur. That foundation, simply put, is love. Now of course God can do whatever He wants whenever He wants to do it. However, from what I have seen the miraculous has much less verging on no impact when it is carried out without love. To paraphrase Scripture, we can perform all the miracles we want, but if we lack love, all we will be is a clanging, annoying gong which looks anything but attractive.
Though this sounds rather defeatist, I assure you our work at ISU was anything but. On a campus where judgment reigns, the pure unadulterated love of God for His people comes like a bucket of cold water to a sleeper. It's shocking, but it awakens a person to a reality they never knew existed; a reality in which they are cared for more deeply than they could imagine, in which their lives have a purpose of which they could only dream. This was our goal at ISU, to proclaim (in no uncertain terms) the true love of God for His people.
All's (not) Fair in Love...
Establishing this foundation of love is anything but easy. Sometimes, maybe most times, the difficulty of loving as God loves is not inspired by any opposition to God, but rather by the people who choose to follow Him. Tragically, I fell into this herd of the unloving in the beginning portion of our trip.
As I mentioned, there is a substantial Mormon majority on ISU's campus. In brief, Mormonism made me very angry. The teachings of Mormonism twists the gospel in a way that hobbles the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, requiring people to spend this life and all of eternity paying off a debt which Jesus already payed for them. I hate (and I do not use that word lightly) that an institution would pervert something so beautiful, turning into an oppressive burden. Because of this hatred, part of me was very excited to go to ISU, but for all the wrong reasons. I wanted to go and prove Mormonism wrong, to definitively demonstrate the ridiculousness of this cult so that the world might be free from it. I wanted to give Mormonism a rather irate piece of my mind, and quite honestly I thought they deserved it.
Thankfully, I am not in charge of dictating God's plan. Thankfully, God's love completely overlooks that which we may or may not deserve. Thankfully, God works in spite of me, and chooses to make His love unfair.
As soon as we arrived at ISU, the campus ministry there made something very clear; we were not there to argue with Mormons. We were there to love them. This came as a shock to many on our team, including myself. How could I love a group I hated so? As Daniel (the campus pastor at ISU) shared, however, my understanding of Mormonism began to change. Those who identify as Mormon are not villains, but rather victims. Most Mormons are born into a Mormon family, and thus have grown up in a lie for the entirety of their lives. Even those who convert to Mormonism have simply been deceived. Go to a Mormon temple, walk through their visitor center, and see how close to the truth of Jesus the message of this cult comes. See if you don't have a hard time weeding out the lies from the truth.
As I thought on this, I wondered, what does hating Mormons accomplish? All I do is increase an oppressive burden which these people already feel. The Mormon version of Jesus acts (to use crude terms) as a lone shark, taking on our debt, but still demanding that we pay him off. Rather than money, however, Mormonism demands a perfect life, measured out in good deeds. This is completely impossible, and many Mormons feel this burden everyday. How am I reflecting the love of God by enforcing this oppression?
Through this reflection, God pointed out that I have no right to be an agent of hate. If I want to see Mormonism eradicated from this world, I can't do it with a sword, be it one of steel or of speech. All I can do is invite people to know the true Jesus, the one who sacrificed Himself to that we might be free from the burden of our sin and embrace the most loving relationship imaginable. Praise the Lord that His love is infinitely more powerful than any hatred I can muster.
...and War
If one is to minister at ISU, they must first recognize that it is a very spiritually dark place. In fact, when the area was first settled by Mormons, the entire valley was dedicated to the "angel" Moroni. Basically, this chunk of Idaho was handed over to demonic powers, who were told "Here, do whatever you want, make this place terrible." This might sound like weird language, so I'll take some time to explain.
Scripture tells us that our battle "is not against flesh and blood, but against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms (Ephesians 6:12)." C.S. Lewis likens becoming a Christian to suddenly realizing that you have woken up in the middle of a war, and you are behind enemy lines. Christianity is not some passive, boring faith. It's located in the middle of a war zone, and anyone who would follow after God must acknowledge this. In fact, whether or not someone recognizes God, the reality of this spiritual war is still present. In recognizing our place in this battle, it is pivotal to remember that God's power is infinitely greater than all that comes against Him. In God, we have nothing to fear from this fight. Jesus already won the war on a cross a couple thousand years ago. The struggles we see today are simply closing skirmishes.
These skirmishes do have casualties, however, and the pain they inspire is very real. We experienced much of this on our trip. Our team was afflicted with persistent health problems, physical weariness, depression, as well as constant fear and doubt. These were new experiences for many on our team. In short, this was their introduction to the battle they had been adjacent to their whole lives. Why did they suddenly experience this hardship? Because they had finally taken hold of their role as soldiers on the front line, declaring the love of God to a world which desperately needs to hear it.
Yes, we experienced much spiritual oppression, but as I said, the power of God is infinitely greater than any opposition. I do have one story to share that I think illustrates this well. On Thursday night (the night after our last full day of ministry on campus), I was relaxing at the house I was staying in. I received a call from one of the interns at ISU, informing me that one of our students was experiencing severe abdominal pain and was having difficulty breathing. Her host was taking her and another member of our team to the ER. Quickly getting dressed, I rushed upstairs where I ran into Daniel who decided to come with me.
As we left the house, I began praying that God would heal my teammate. I suddenly felt a peace I can only describe as transcendent, and I knew our team member was going to be absolutely fine. I arrived at the hospital with this assurance in mind, and as our team gathered around this girl and prayed, the peace only grew. Within twenty minutes, she was completely asymptomatic. We spent the next hour watching the Shawshank Redemption as we waited for some blood work, which came back completely clean. Praying more on this, I've come to realize that this was Satan trying to scare our team, to get us to think not on all the victory which had come over ISU's campus in God's name, but rather this one scary thing which happened late on a Thursday night. How refreshing to see that, indeed, God's power trumps anything which comes against it.
I understand that not all of what I have written makes sense. I also understand that it may seem scary. If you like, I would love to talk on the reality of spiritual warfare more. Just let me know.
We're Gone, God's Not
One day on campus, some of our students sprayed (with permission) the word "epic" onto the sidewalk around campus. This word, while also acting as the focus of conversation for our outreach at ISU, accurately describes the trip. We had the chance to be a part of an epic story, which in which lives were changed, especially our own. As I walked around campus late Thursday, I saw that many of the chalk sprays had begun to fade. At first, this saddened me, as it seemed as though our mark on campus was already being forgotten. What reassured me, however, is that fact that the work which God carries out in people's hearts does not fade so readily. We have simply started a process. We have only planted a seed. I look forward with hopeful expectation to the faithful work which God will continue at ISU. Lord knows it's going to be amazing.
With His love and grace,
Taylor
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Why I Hate Religion, But Want to Heal It
I do love a well done video. Specifically, this one.
This video, creatively referred to as "Jesus > Religion," has been getting a lot of play, at least on my Facebook feed. In general, I'm excited about things such as this. I always love when someone who is eloquent and caring in their presentation proclaims their love for the Lord in an invitational way.
The message of this video, however, is nothing new. People have been asserting/reinforcing the Jesus v.s. Religion split for a long time now. Particularly, our generation finds this extremely attractive. We love the idea of embracing Jesus' freedom and denying the shackles which an organized church structure places upon us.
I agree 100% with the truth that Jesus came to free us from sin, not bind us to regulation. However, every time I see something with a message similar to that of "Jesus > Religion," the same question comes into my head. What do we do about it?
As I said, our generation is especially good at bashing the church. We are experts at identifying all of the things which previous generations did wrong, all of the mistakes which Christians who came before us have made. We defiantly cast off the errors of yesteryear, claiming that we can now fully and truly represent Jesus without all of the baggage that previous generations have tacked onto the gospel.
And to a certain extent, we're right to think this way. The church has done some horrible things over the course of the previous years. I did my senior thesis on the rise of the Religious Right, spending months digging through press statements and sermons that had me literally weeping at points. I'm no stranger to the atrocities which the church has committed. Though I can't say I've been personally wounded by the church, my heart breaks that even one person has a story of how Jesus was shown to them as someone condemning and hateful of people, for He is the exact opposite.
My heart breaks equally, though, that so often our generation stops at the "religion/the church is bad" step of this conversation. Adding the caveat "I love the church" doesn't change the fact that we often have plenty to say against religion, but rarely anything constructive. This primarily negative voice ignores the witness of scripture. A massive portion of the New Testament attempts to answer the question "How do we worship God well together?" In other words, "How do we make 'good religion?'" If the early church went through such intense efforts to create a community of worship that would honor God, are we honoring our legacy of faith by saying "Religion is bad, you should just love Jesus?"
It would be tragic to condemn the lack of constructive dialogue and then in turn provide no constructive feedback of my own. I think a healthy next step for us stems from the "What do we do about it?" question. I think it's wonderful that we point out flaws in organized religion. Now we must work to solve them. Let's each identify something harmful in our own community of faith that we can work to solve, a rift we can work to heal, a miscommunication of Jesus' character we can work to correct. Let's make the church what it was meant to be, a community of people honoring God in a way that is both invitational and reflective of the love of Jesus Christ.
1 Timothy claims that "the church" is "the pillar and foundation of the truth." Over the years, many things have been plastered onto this pillar that are not reflective of God's heart. We only make the issue worse, however, if we take a sledgehammer to that pillar, denying God's desire that His people would play a key role in bringing this world into a relationship with Him. We need to think more like doctors, and less like rioters. We need to diagnose, and then seek to heal, not diagnose and destroy.
With God's love and Grace,
Taylor
This video, creatively referred to as "Jesus > Religion," has been getting a lot of play, at least on my Facebook feed. In general, I'm excited about things such as this. I always love when someone who is eloquent and caring in their presentation proclaims their love for the Lord in an invitational way.
The message of this video, however, is nothing new. People have been asserting/reinforcing the Jesus v.s. Religion split for a long time now. Particularly, our generation finds this extremely attractive. We love the idea of embracing Jesus' freedom and denying the shackles which an organized church structure places upon us.
I agree 100% with the truth that Jesus came to free us from sin, not bind us to regulation. However, every time I see something with a message similar to that of "Jesus > Religion," the same question comes into my head. What do we do about it?
As I said, our generation is especially good at bashing the church. We are experts at identifying all of the things which previous generations did wrong, all of the mistakes which Christians who came before us have made. We defiantly cast off the errors of yesteryear, claiming that we can now fully and truly represent Jesus without all of the baggage that previous generations have tacked onto the gospel.
And to a certain extent, we're right to think this way. The church has done some horrible things over the course of the previous years. I did my senior thesis on the rise of the Religious Right, spending months digging through press statements and sermons that had me literally weeping at points. I'm no stranger to the atrocities which the church has committed. Though I can't say I've been personally wounded by the church, my heart breaks that even one person has a story of how Jesus was shown to them as someone condemning and hateful of people, for He is the exact opposite.
My heart breaks equally, though, that so often our generation stops at the "religion/the church is bad" step of this conversation. Adding the caveat "I love the church" doesn't change the fact that we often have plenty to say against religion, but rarely anything constructive. This primarily negative voice ignores the witness of scripture. A massive portion of the New Testament attempts to answer the question "How do we worship God well together?" In other words, "How do we make 'good religion?'" If the early church went through such intense efforts to create a community of worship that would honor God, are we honoring our legacy of faith by saying "Religion is bad, you should just love Jesus?"
It would be tragic to condemn the lack of constructive dialogue and then in turn provide no constructive feedback of my own. I think a healthy next step for us stems from the "What do we do about it?" question. I think it's wonderful that we point out flaws in organized religion. Now we must work to solve them. Let's each identify something harmful in our own community of faith that we can work to solve, a rift we can work to heal, a miscommunication of Jesus' character we can work to correct. Let's make the church what it was meant to be, a community of people honoring God in a way that is both invitational and reflective of the love of Jesus Christ.
1 Timothy claims that "the church" is "the pillar and foundation of the truth." Over the years, many things have been plastered onto this pillar that are not reflective of God's heart. We only make the issue worse, however, if we take a sledgehammer to that pillar, denying God's desire that His people would play a key role in bringing this world into a relationship with Him. We need to think more like doctors, and less like rioters. We need to diagnose, and then seek to heal, not diagnose and destroy.
With God's love and Grace,
Taylor
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)