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
Thursday, April 26, 2012
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
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