Our culture is full of taboos. Words you can’t say and images you can’t put out in public lest they offend someone. Many people equate keeping these taboos with the signs of being a good Christian. Don’t cuss, don’t watch R-rated movies or read dirty magazines. There is even a Christian radio station whose main theme is being family-friendly. Everything they talk about is rated G.
Except that Christians can’t live G-rated lives. It just doesn’t work, because life is rated R.
Start with the Bible. Have you actually looked at some of those stories? Gang rape, brutal murder, adultery and lust run rampant through its pages. If you made a movie of the Bible, the whole thing, unedited, you couldn’t bring anyone under 17 into the theater.
So why does the church and mainstream Christian culture try to live in a G-rated world? I’m not saying we should start cussing just because, or enjoy gratuitous sex and violence in movies. But we can’t ignore that they exist, can’t shelter ourselves from the reality that is life.
In my last post I talked about the culture and communication gap between rich and poor. It seems like there is a similar gap between ‘clean’ and ‘dirty,’ the church-accepted standard of talking and dressing and living and the worldly lack of standards. We get to used to the clean, safe, family-friendly environment we hide away in that we lose the ability to relate to people who are unfamiliar with that environment.
People who haven’t grown up where manners were enforced, mouths were washed with soap, and parental controls governed TV stations don’t feel comfortable in the G-rated world we’ve created. People who didn’t grow up in a churchy culture don’t feel comfortable there because they don’t know how to act. They understand that the church (theology and spiritually aside) has its own set of values and rules of conduct that they aren’t used to and don’t know how to follow.
Many Christian bookstores won’t carry a book that has bad words in it. They don’t want to cause a stumbling block to people, to expose them to ‘unacceptable’ ways of speaking and acting. Yet stories are how we learn about the world. The books a person reads can tell you a lot about how they think and what they believe. So when we avoid the hard issues, we learn to forget that they are there. If we won’t watch or read about someone with problems, including language, violence, etc, people face, how can we learn to understand the difficulties they face, and the strength it takes to overcome?
Jesus isn’t family-friendly. No, we don’t need to put temptation in our way, to gorge ourselves on violence and sex until we become desensitized. But we do need more Christian literature and cinema that deals with the hard issues, that takes a step beyond the clean façade of Sunday-morning and shows the hard and dirty parts of life. Because it is in the hard stuff, the R-rated stuff, that you can see the true wonder and power of Jesus’ love and life-changing power.
May 27, 2011
May 24, 2011
Plunger Ears
I love Larry-Boy, the superhero persona that Larry the Cucumber from VeggieTales takes on. He battles an alien fib and a rumor weed which teach lessons about thinking before you speak. In fact, I have always liked VeggieTales, even though I was already out of their targeted demographic when they first came out. Their combination of humor, good story telling and Biblical lessons leaves little to be desired.
Step down to South America with me, to a country called Guyana. A tropical land very, very close to the equator where the buildings are on stilts and the dirt roads are full of potholes. In an impoverished neighborhood my church group spent a week long mission trip running a Vacation Bible School for the local kids. It was loads of fun, but it was also a lot of hard work. Every evening while the adults had a prayer meeting we entertained the kids with low-effort activities, like movies.
Enter Larry-Boy and his VeggieTales fun. We (my church group) all enjoyed the singing, dancing vegetables and the lessons they taught. So we proudly put in our VeggieTale tapes and settled back to relax and let the video do the work. The kids would laugh, dance, and sing with the veggies and have a great time, just like us.
Well, they didn't. They just sat there and stared at Larry and Bob and Archibald Asparagus with open mouths and furrowed brows. They didn't get it. Nothing made sense, and they barely laughed at any of the jokes. To our Guyanese friends, VeggieTales was just a lot of nonsense, so full of American culture and worldview that it didn't connect.
We were stumped. Why wouldn't these kids love VeggieTales? But since they clearly weren't enjoying it, we put in the other video series we had brought. A simple cartoon story following a normal boy and girl as they traveled through Bible stories. No song and dance. No veggies, and no plungers. Totally BORING.
The kids in Guyana loved it. They wanted to watch that video again, and then the next one, and the next one. It made sense to them. What we thought of as a simple, boring story was quality entertainment to them, way better than those strange vegetables.
They say the sign of a decaying civilization is a widening gap between the rich and the poor, as is happening all over the world right now. But there is more than a gap in money and resources. There is a gap in ideals, education, and communication.
Why does it take a cucumber with plungers in his ears to get us Americans to sit up and actually listen to a moral tale? Are we falling out of touch with real life because of this insulated, manufactured world we have created? What happens when we can't connect with 3/4 of the world anymore?
The hardest part about our work in Guyana was not the heat or the humidity but communication. Accents aside, we white Americans spoke a different language and looked at the world very differently then the Guyanese. The problem, however, isn't isolated to foreign countries. The gap between the culture of the rich and poor in America is huge, too.
Look across the city to a neighborhood that does not look like yours. Would you be comfortable striking up a conversation with those people? Why not? Are you scared of them because that neighborhood is dangerous? Or is it also that you don't understand the language they use, don't understand their culture.
We need to close the communication gap if anything in this world is going to change. We need to take the plungers out of our ears. VeggieTales is a great show, don't get me wrong. But we also need to be able to step out of our comfort zone and learn to talk to people who just don't get talking cucumbers. We need to meet people where they are at, understand who they are and the forces that have shaped their lives. We need to stop trying to make people like us, by exporting VeggieTales, and start listening to what they have to say.
Step down to South America with me, to a country called Guyana. A tropical land very, very close to the equator where the buildings are on stilts and the dirt roads are full of potholes. In an impoverished neighborhood my church group spent a week long mission trip running a Vacation Bible School for the local kids. It was loads of fun, but it was also a lot of hard work. Every evening while the adults had a prayer meeting we entertained the kids with low-effort activities, like movies.
Enter Larry-Boy and his VeggieTales fun. We (my church group) all enjoyed the singing, dancing vegetables and the lessons they taught. So we proudly put in our VeggieTale tapes and settled back to relax and let the video do the work. The kids would laugh, dance, and sing with the veggies and have a great time, just like us.
Well, they didn't. They just sat there and stared at Larry and Bob and Archibald Asparagus with open mouths and furrowed brows. They didn't get it. Nothing made sense, and they barely laughed at any of the jokes. To our Guyanese friends, VeggieTales was just a lot of nonsense, so full of American culture and worldview that it didn't connect.
We were stumped. Why wouldn't these kids love VeggieTales? But since they clearly weren't enjoying it, we put in the other video series we had brought. A simple cartoon story following a normal boy and girl as they traveled through Bible stories. No song and dance. No veggies, and no plungers. Totally BORING.
The kids in Guyana loved it. They wanted to watch that video again, and then the next one, and the next one. It made sense to them. What we thought of as a simple, boring story was quality entertainment to them, way better than those strange vegetables.
They say the sign of a decaying civilization is a widening gap between the rich and the poor, as is happening all over the world right now. But there is more than a gap in money and resources. There is a gap in ideals, education, and communication.
Why does it take a cucumber with plungers in his ears to get us Americans to sit up and actually listen to a moral tale? Are we falling out of touch with real life because of this insulated, manufactured world we have created? What happens when we can't connect with 3/4 of the world anymore?
The hardest part about our work in Guyana was not the heat or the humidity but communication. Accents aside, we white Americans spoke a different language and looked at the world very differently then the Guyanese. The problem, however, isn't isolated to foreign countries. The gap between the culture of the rich and poor in America is huge, too.
Look across the city to a neighborhood that does not look like yours. Would you be comfortable striking up a conversation with those people? Why not? Are you scared of them because that neighborhood is dangerous? Or is it also that you don't understand the language they use, don't understand their culture.
We need to close the communication gap if anything in this world is going to change. We need to take the plungers out of our ears. VeggieTales is a great show, don't get me wrong. But we also need to be able to step out of our comfort zone and learn to talk to people who just don't get talking cucumbers. We need to meet people where they are at, understand who they are and the forces that have shaped their lives. We need to stop trying to make people like us, by exporting VeggieTales, and start listening to what they have to say.
May 21, 2011
Jury Duty
I think that if I ever got called in for jury duty, I'd be booted out within the first day. Why?
Well, have you ever watched a lawyer movie that is all about the trial? You watch two people in fancy suits sort through tons of paperwork and make their cases and piece the details together. Then you watch them decide how to present it so that things are tilted in favor of whichever side they are arguing. Then they stand up and make objections to things and somehow the jury is supposed to ignore what was said. Their arguments always leave me wanting to shout, to point out a point that wasn't stated during the trial, to ask the wittness another question, or call a different wittness entirely.
You see, if I were on a jury, I'd be raising my hand just like I was in a classroom whenever I had a question. I don't understand how a jury can make an informed decision sitting idly by and watching a carefully planned performance like the lawyers put on. I'd want to ask my own questions, analyze the evidence for my self, talk to each witness without any lawyer present. I don't feel like I could make a honest and informed decision any other way. I can't let other people do all of the research for me, and trust that they did a good job. .
So the judge would probably kick me out before they day was through. Because I couldn't just sit still and listen. If I'm supposed to decide someone's guilt, let me ask the questions. Let the lawyer give me a baseline of what the witness saw, but then open it up to the jury. After all, they're the ones making the decision.
Actually, I think the whole idea of two people each defending one side of the case is a bad idea. It makes you skew the facts to line up with one explanation or another. You can't just look at the evidence and draw a conclusion. We ought to have three professional investigators each work the case independently, and then present their findings to the jury, who can ask questions and then make a decision. No pressure to make evidence fit one side or the other. No pressure to win the case, whether you think the person is guilty or not.
I've never much liked the way our legal system works. It just doesn't make sense to me. I don't mind serving jury duty, if I am ever called. But honestly, I don't think I could follow our current system's rules.
What do you think? Do you see any holes in the way our trials are run? Would you raise your hand to ask questions if you were a juror?
Well, have you ever watched a lawyer movie that is all about the trial? You watch two people in fancy suits sort through tons of paperwork and make their cases and piece the details together. Then you watch them decide how to present it so that things are tilted in favor of whichever side they are arguing. Then they stand up and make objections to things and somehow the jury is supposed to ignore what was said. Their arguments always leave me wanting to shout, to point out a point that wasn't stated during the trial, to ask the wittness another question, or call a different wittness entirely.
You see, if I were on a jury, I'd be raising my hand just like I was in a classroom whenever I had a question. I don't understand how a jury can make an informed decision sitting idly by and watching a carefully planned performance like the lawyers put on. I'd want to ask my own questions, analyze the evidence for my self, talk to each witness without any lawyer present. I don't feel like I could make a honest and informed decision any other way. I can't let other people do all of the research for me, and trust that they did a good job. .
So the judge would probably kick me out before they day was through. Because I couldn't just sit still and listen. If I'm supposed to decide someone's guilt, let me ask the questions. Let the lawyer give me a baseline of what the witness saw, but then open it up to the jury. After all, they're the ones making the decision.
Actually, I think the whole idea of two people each defending one side of the case is a bad idea. It makes you skew the facts to line up with one explanation or another. You can't just look at the evidence and draw a conclusion. We ought to have three professional investigators each work the case independently, and then present their findings to the jury, who can ask questions and then make a decision. No pressure to make evidence fit one side or the other. No pressure to win the case, whether you think the person is guilty or not.
I've never much liked the way our legal system works. It just doesn't make sense to me. I don't mind serving jury duty, if I am ever called. But honestly, I don't think I could follow our current system's rules.
What do you think? Do you see any holes in the way our trials are run? Would you raise your hand to ask questions if you were a juror?
May 16, 2011
Drop the 'C'
Did you know that we YWCA (Young Women's Christian Association) now prefers to be known simply as the YW? The YMCA (Young Men's Christian Association) is changing it's name to the Y. Drop the C. We don't need it, we don't want it. They feel that the label of 'Christian' is too constricting. It does not mesh with their goals.
And what are the YWCA's goals? I wear them every day on my t-shirt when I go to work. Empowering Women. Eliminating Racism.
Wait a minute. You have to drop the 'Christian' from your name to do that?
It is a sad but true fact that many people today see Christianity as oppressive, instead of uplifting. They see it as exclusive, instead of inclusive. They see an elitist group with their own agenda who want to protect themselves, not a group of people who want to reach out and help the world.
Eliminating racism and empowering women were two goals of the early Church. Women served as priests alongside men in the first century. Paul wrote over and over again to the Jews and Gentiles to get along despite their differences. Jesus broke down barriers, talked to people against all social taboo, included everybody.
These two goals, while they do not define totally the Christan message, are certainly an integral part of what Jesus and his disciples taught. Yet here we are, two thousand years later, and everything is turned around.
There are many secular organizations that do incredibly admirable things. They care for orphans, work for social justice, help to create jobs, heal the sick, feed the hungry. Yet churches will not give these organizations money because they do not have a 'Christian' statement of faith. My sister is currently raising funds for missionary work in Thailand, and has been told by many churches that they can only support missionaries from their own denomination. It doesn't matter if the cause is good, even Godly, and doesn't conflict with their church doctrine. If you don't have the right label, you can't get the cash.
It makes me sad enough to cry, mad enough to put my fist through this computer right now. WAKE UP PEOPLE! When did we become the very thing Jesus preached against? Why can't we work together?
Maybe the YWCA has good reason to think 'Christian' doesn't belong in their name. They have seen the pettiness of the American Church, the internal bickering and politicking, the outright selfishness of people who build giant new gymnasiums and can't manage to find a few hundred dollars for people with real needs. They have seen self-segregated congregations and churches that deny women equal status with men. When they see a steeple, they see oppression, exclusion, and vanity.
Casting Crowns put it well in their song "Does Anybody Hear Her?" "Lofty glances from lofty people...Under the shadows of our steeple, With all the lost and lonely people, Searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me." Simply put, the church isn't doing it's job. And the world has noticed.
The American Church has become blind to its history, to its calling, to its true purpose in the world. It has turned into a sort of social club where people go to have a good time, to sing and chitchat about the trivial things that trouble them, to feel cozy and happy and insulated from all of the bad stuff outside. While the secular organizations are rolling up their sleeves to do the work the church left behind.
People don't want to be part of a 'Christian' organization anymore, they don't want to be labeled with the big C. Not because they disagree with the Bible. No, it's because they haven't had a chance to see what the Bible teaches. They don't want to know; the Church has shown them enough.
If we want people to accept 'Christians' if we want to spread Jesus' message, we've go to change our tune. We've got to clean up our churches. We've got to reclaim our name.
And what are the YWCA's goals? I wear them every day on my t-shirt when I go to work. Empowering Women. Eliminating Racism.
Wait a minute. You have to drop the 'Christian' from your name to do that?
It is a sad but true fact that many people today see Christianity as oppressive, instead of uplifting. They see it as exclusive, instead of inclusive. They see an elitist group with their own agenda who want to protect themselves, not a group of people who want to reach out and help the world.
Eliminating racism and empowering women were two goals of the early Church. Women served as priests alongside men in the first century. Paul wrote over and over again to the Jews and Gentiles to get along despite their differences. Jesus broke down barriers, talked to people against all social taboo, included everybody.
These two goals, while they do not define totally the Christan message, are certainly an integral part of what Jesus and his disciples taught. Yet here we are, two thousand years later, and everything is turned around.
There are many secular organizations that do incredibly admirable things. They care for orphans, work for social justice, help to create jobs, heal the sick, feed the hungry. Yet churches will not give these organizations money because they do not have a 'Christian' statement of faith. My sister is currently raising funds for missionary work in Thailand, and has been told by many churches that they can only support missionaries from their own denomination. It doesn't matter if the cause is good, even Godly, and doesn't conflict with their church doctrine. If you don't have the right label, you can't get the cash.
It makes me sad enough to cry, mad enough to put my fist through this computer right now. WAKE UP PEOPLE! When did we become the very thing Jesus preached against? Why can't we work together?
Maybe the YWCA has good reason to think 'Christian' doesn't belong in their name. They have seen the pettiness of the American Church, the internal bickering and politicking, the outright selfishness of people who build giant new gymnasiums and can't manage to find a few hundred dollars for people with real needs. They have seen self-segregated congregations and churches that deny women equal status with men. When they see a steeple, they see oppression, exclusion, and vanity.
Casting Crowns put it well in their song "Does Anybody Hear Her?" "Lofty glances from lofty people...Under the shadows of our steeple, With all the lost and lonely people, Searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me." Simply put, the church isn't doing it's job. And the world has noticed.
The American Church has become blind to its history, to its calling, to its true purpose in the world. It has turned into a sort of social club where people go to have a good time, to sing and chitchat about the trivial things that trouble them, to feel cozy and happy and insulated from all of the bad stuff outside. While the secular organizations are rolling up their sleeves to do the work the church left behind.
People don't want to be part of a 'Christian' organization anymore, they don't want to be labeled with the big C. Not because they disagree with the Bible. No, it's because they haven't had a chance to see what the Bible teaches. They don't want to know; the Church has shown them enough.
If we want people to accept 'Christians' if we want to spread Jesus' message, we've go to change our tune. We've got to clean up our churches. We've got to reclaim our name.
May 14, 2011
David Waited
Do you ever feel like the things you are working towards are never going to happen? Freshman year in college and that degree is a four-year eternity away. Get a job and the pay raise that can pay for a house and a car is a ten-year eternity away. Someone gets pregnant and you have to wait a nine-month eternity to meet that new baby. A heat wave rolls through town and the promised cool front in a 24-hour eternity away.
It always seems like we are waiting for things to happen, for life to change. You make a decision, but you still have to fill out paperwork, wait for the start date, set things in motion before anything ever comes of that decision. Like me, deciding to enter Seminary, and classes won't even start for three more months. It feels like making that decision didn't make much difference sometimes. I'll have to wait before I start feeling any practical effect. Or take my sister and her husband. They want to be full-time missionaries, but now they are waiting for six months until they can raise enough support to make the trip.
We decide to do what we hope is God's will, and then we wait. So often it feels like things should move faster. I want results today. Then I look at David. The kid who used a sling and a stone to kill a giant, who was anointed as king and then spent years and years waiting for the throne.
Why did he wait? David didn't have to. Saul was trying to kill him because he was jealous. He set David on the run, made him wander in the wilderness, pursued him through the desert and sent him running into the arms of his enemies for shelter. No one would have blamed David if he'd taken control of his own destiny. After all, God said he would make him king. Why not kill Saul and be done with it?
But he didn't do it. David waited for God to make his move. He waited for Saul's time to be over and done, waited for Saul's own actions to catch up to him. He didn't let the desire for the throne, the desire simply to be free of that madman, get in the way of God's plan. God had anointed Saul, too. So David wouldn't touch him.
Abraham and Sarah didn't wait. They wanted to see the promise fulfilled, so when Sarah couldn't have a son she gave Hagar to her husband and Ishmael was born. It's not Ismael's fault, but the result was a lot more family dysfunction than would have happened had Sarah waited.
It can be hard, so hard to wait. Yet it is better to take David's path. He was, after all, a man after God's own heart. It may be the harder path, the longer path. But when we try to determine our destiny, make plans work out our way, we just get in the way.
David honored God first, and God honored him. Sarah tried to make things happen, and we still have dysfunction in the middle east.
I hate waiting. I get antsy and grumpy just waiting for ten minutes for my dinner to cook. But we need to learn how to wait. We need to cultivate patience. We need to let God take the lead and follow instead of stepping in ourselves and messing things up worse.
We spend an awful lot of our lives waiting. But sometimes, that's just what we need to do.
It always seems like we are waiting for things to happen, for life to change. You make a decision, but you still have to fill out paperwork, wait for the start date, set things in motion before anything ever comes of that decision. Like me, deciding to enter Seminary, and classes won't even start for three more months. It feels like making that decision didn't make much difference sometimes. I'll have to wait before I start feeling any practical effect. Or take my sister and her husband. They want to be full-time missionaries, but now they are waiting for six months until they can raise enough support to make the trip.
We decide to do what we hope is God's will, and then we wait. So often it feels like things should move faster. I want results today. Then I look at David. The kid who used a sling and a stone to kill a giant, who was anointed as king and then spent years and years waiting for the throne.
Why did he wait? David didn't have to. Saul was trying to kill him because he was jealous. He set David on the run, made him wander in the wilderness, pursued him through the desert and sent him running into the arms of his enemies for shelter. No one would have blamed David if he'd taken control of his own destiny. After all, God said he would make him king. Why not kill Saul and be done with it?
But he didn't do it. David waited for God to make his move. He waited for Saul's time to be over and done, waited for Saul's own actions to catch up to him. He didn't let the desire for the throne, the desire simply to be free of that madman, get in the way of God's plan. God had anointed Saul, too. So David wouldn't touch him.
Abraham and Sarah didn't wait. They wanted to see the promise fulfilled, so when Sarah couldn't have a son she gave Hagar to her husband and Ishmael was born. It's not Ismael's fault, but the result was a lot more family dysfunction than would have happened had Sarah waited.
It can be hard, so hard to wait. Yet it is better to take David's path. He was, after all, a man after God's own heart. It may be the harder path, the longer path. But when we try to determine our destiny, make plans work out our way, we just get in the way.
David honored God first, and God honored him. Sarah tried to make things happen, and we still have dysfunction in the middle east.
I hate waiting. I get antsy and grumpy just waiting for ten minutes for my dinner to cook. But we need to learn how to wait. We need to cultivate patience. We need to let God take the lead and follow instead of stepping in ourselves and messing things up worse.
We spend an awful lot of our lives waiting. But sometimes, that's just what we need to do.
May 10, 2011
Peter Pan: Sociopath
I love Peter Pan. The idea of flying on pixie dust to a carefree land of never ending fun is enticing at any age. We all wish, at some point in our lives, that we could return to that simpler time when we were children. Those of us who had happy, contended childhoods, anyway.
Have you ever actually read the book by JM Barrie? Or have you just seen the Disney cartoon, the musical, or the more recent live action film? Peter Pan, like most fairy tales, has been pruned, preened, altered and simplified as it was taken to stage and screen. The dark tones and adult themes are glossed over. Hints of them remain, lurking in the background, but the original essence of the tale is lost.
Peter Pan is a creepy book. The main character is carefree, true, but that’s not a good thing. He doesn’t care who lives and who dies, and death is as real in Neverland as it is anywhere else. He forgets entirely about Wendy and her brothers. Peter exists only in the moment; nothing else is real. He has no heart, and no real ability to love.
I found a modern version of Peter Pan at the library which drew out and amplified the dark tones of the original tale. In The Child Thief, the author Brom shows us the creepiness in Barrie’s work, the lack of compassion in Peter, the gruesome reality of being a child in a grown-up’s world. Brom sees, Peter Pan as the equivalent of a modern gang leader, a sociopath who mesmerizes followers and discards the loyal as soon as they become useless. It’s a creepy book, and I don’t actually recommend you read it, but the concept gave me pause.
It makes me wonder why more people can’t see the creepy side of Peter Pan, and all of the other fairy tales for that matter. How did our culture manage to erase everything unpleasant in our folklore, to modify it to a G rating? It scares me to think how much we gloss over the unpleasant, candy-coating reality so that we can no longer see the darkness lurking under the surface.
Where in our lives have we done the same thing? If it happens so easily on stage and screen, it is just as easy to do in our own minds, our own selves. If we don't acknowledge the darkness, it we remain entirely unaware of it, someday it may overwhelm us without our ever knowing.
Why are we so blind to what’s wrong with the world, so unwilling to see things the way they are? One day, we’ll have to square up and face facts. Neverland won’t actually exist forever. The lost boys all leave the same way the pirates do; dead.
Have you ever actually read the book by JM Barrie? Or have you just seen the Disney cartoon, the musical, or the more recent live action film? Peter Pan, like most fairy tales, has been pruned, preened, altered and simplified as it was taken to stage and screen. The dark tones and adult themes are glossed over. Hints of them remain, lurking in the background, but the original essence of the tale is lost.
Peter Pan is a creepy book. The main character is carefree, true, but that’s not a good thing. He doesn’t care who lives and who dies, and death is as real in Neverland as it is anywhere else. He forgets entirely about Wendy and her brothers. Peter exists only in the moment; nothing else is real. He has no heart, and no real ability to love.
I found a modern version of Peter Pan at the library which drew out and amplified the dark tones of the original tale. In The Child Thief, the author Brom shows us the creepiness in Barrie’s work, the lack of compassion in Peter, the gruesome reality of being a child in a grown-up’s world. Brom sees, Peter Pan as the equivalent of a modern gang leader, a sociopath who mesmerizes followers and discards the loyal as soon as they become useless. It’s a creepy book, and I don’t actually recommend you read it, but the concept gave me pause.
It makes me wonder why more people can’t see the creepy side of Peter Pan, and all of the other fairy tales for that matter. How did our culture manage to erase everything unpleasant in our folklore, to modify it to a G rating? It scares me to think how much we gloss over the unpleasant, candy-coating reality so that we can no longer see the darkness lurking under the surface.
Where in our lives have we done the same thing? If it happens so easily on stage and screen, it is just as easy to do in our own minds, our own selves. If we don't acknowledge the darkness, it we remain entirely unaware of it, someday it may overwhelm us without our ever knowing.
Why are we so blind to what’s wrong with the world, so unwilling to see things the way they are? One day, we’ll have to square up and face facts. Neverland won’t actually exist forever. The lost boys all leave the same way the pirates do; dead.
May 7, 2011
Fess Up!
I always thought the Catholic ritual of confession was weird. It’s not something that I have ever encountered in my own life. My church doesn’t require people to come in and sit in a little box and talk to someone you can’t see through a screen. We don’t need someone to pronounce that our sins are forgiven, or do any sort of penance.
But as I grow older, and hopefully wiser, the idea of confession becomes more and more important. It is essential not only for drawing closer to God but for living a healthy life. The root of all change is confession.
We all know that the alcoholic or the drug addict can’t be forced to change. We can shove them into a locked room and force them to go through detox, but we can’t keep them from going back to old habits. Bad habits only change when the person stuck in them decides to make the change. And that change starts with admitting that the thing they are doing is bad, destructive to themselves and those around them. It’s in the twelve steps somewhere. Confess. Acknowledge that what you’ve done isn’t good.
You can’t kill a problem until you find it’s cause. When we fess up to our mistakes, we acknowledge the source of the problem. Only then can we start to heal.
Confessing is hard, though. It’s about honesty, and most people are pathological liars.
Take Adam and Eve after the first sin. Yeah, that fruit on that tree that we weren’t supposed to eat. Did we ever actually admit to doing it? No. Adam points to Eve and says, It’s her fault! Eve blames the snake. The snake just sits back and laughs.
Do you ever wonder if we might still be in Eden if Adam and Eve had just fessed up? What if they came running to God, got down on their knees, and said, “We did something wrong, and it’s our own fault because we should have known better. Please, we’re sorry. Can we start over?”
God wants us to fess up. He didn’t dole out punishment until after Adam and Eve refused to own their guilt. They couldn’t take credit for their own actions, so God sent them away. They had to learn the hard way, not because they sinned, but because they refused to admit it.
Confession is more than admitting something to yourself. You have to tell others. The body and soul are connected. I don’t think that secret confession, in silent prayer between you and God, is very powerful. The mouth as to be involved, and another set of physical ears.
I’m not saying you have to get on YouTube and start spilling all of your secret demons. But you need to find someone to tell. Find a confessor, someone you can trust, and tell them your struggles. The beauty of confession means that we don’t bear our burdens alone. When someone else knows what we have trouble with, what we have done and are afraid of doing again, they can help us. A confessor isn’t a punisher who carries your secret shame. A confessor is an encourager who can see our weakness and shore it up with their strength. A confessor is a friend to share the burden and make it lighter, to hold us accountable and pick us up when we fall.
We all need to confess, and we all need to learn to be confessors, to listen to others when they come to us with their troubles and worries and mistakes. If you have secret fears and sins, they become chains that drag you down and hold you back. When you tell someone, you can take the first steps towards the true freedom that Jesus wants for you.
But as I grow older, and hopefully wiser, the idea of confession becomes more and more important. It is essential not only for drawing closer to God but for living a healthy life. The root of all change is confession.
We all know that the alcoholic or the drug addict can’t be forced to change. We can shove them into a locked room and force them to go through detox, but we can’t keep them from going back to old habits. Bad habits only change when the person stuck in them decides to make the change. And that change starts with admitting that the thing they are doing is bad, destructive to themselves and those around them. It’s in the twelve steps somewhere. Confess. Acknowledge that what you’ve done isn’t good.
You can’t kill a problem until you find it’s cause. When we fess up to our mistakes, we acknowledge the source of the problem. Only then can we start to heal.
Confessing is hard, though. It’s about honesty, and most people are pathological liars.
Take Adam and Eve after the first sin. Yeah, that fruit on that tree that we weren’t supposed to eat. Did we ever actually admit to doing it? No. Adam points to Eve and says, It’s her fault! Eve blames the snake. The snake just sits back and laughs.
Do you ever wonder if we might still be in Eden if Adam and Eve had just fessed up? What if they came running to God, got down on their knees, and said, “We did something wrong, and it’s our own fault because we should have known better. Please, we’re sorry. Can we start over?”
God wants us to fess up. He didn’t dole out punishment until after Adam and Eve refused to own their guilt. They couldn’t take credit for their own actions, so God sent them away. They had to learn the hard way, not because they sinned, but because they refused to admit it.
Confession is more than admitting something to yourself. You have to tell others. The body and soul are connected. I don’t think that secret confession, in silent prayer between you and God, is very powerful. The mouth as to be involved, and another set of physical ears.
I’m not saying you have to get on YouTube and start spilling all of your secret demons. But you need to find someone to tell. Find a confessor, someone you can trust, and tell them your struggles. The beauty of confession means that we don’t bear our burdens alone. When someone else knows what we have trouble with, what we have done and are afraid of doing again, they can help us. A confessor isn’t a punisher who carries your secret shame. A confessor is an encourager who can see our weakness and shore it up with their strength. A confessor is a friend to share the burden and make it lighter, to hold us accountable and pick us up when we fall.
We all need to confess, and we all need to learn to be confessors, to listen to others when they come to us with their troubles and worries and mistakes. If you have secret fears and sins, they become chains that drag you down and hold you back. When you tell someone, you can take the first steps towards the true freedom that Jesus wants for you.
May 2, 2011
Celebrate Life, Not Death
My extended family always gets together the week after a holiday, so that all of the aunts and uncles and cousins can stay at home on Easter and Christmas and Thanksgiving. So we were together yesterday (Sunday) enjoying each other's company, eating good food, laughing about childhood stories, hunting for plastic eggs and stuffing our faces with candy. We also took time to think again of what we celebrate on Easter. Jesus, the son of God, came to earth and died, but he didn't stay dead. He was raised to life and is still alive. Death is not the end. Life triumphs.
Not an hour ago this morning I saw the newspaper headline. Osama Bin Laden Dead.
I stopped still, staring at the huge color photo of a party around the White House. What? That guy? Really? I haven't heard about him for ages, but I remember his name. No one can forget that name and that face. I had to check the Internet, listen to the president's speech, read people's comments, before it felt real.
When I was celebrating with family, enjoying life and remembering that we are free from death, thousands of miles away across the sea a man was being killed. A man who had orchestrated the murder of thousands and inspired hundreds of others to follow in his footsteps and continue the terror.
I am a pacifist and generally disapprove of war and violence of all kinds. Yet I cannot say I am sorry that this man is dead. He can no longer hatch plans, no longer inspire, no longer champion the cause of fear and destruction and twist young, impressionable minds until children are ready to do terrible things. There is still danger, of course. Bin Laden's followers will probably strike back hard and soon and we have to be ready to endure it. But one man who caused death can do so no more.
I celebrate, but I do not celebrate because a man is dead. I celebrate because more now have a chance to live. And not just live, but to live with dignity, free of fear.
Yet I also feel that Bin Laden's death is a tragedy. The entire affair is a tragedy that started decades ago, long before anyone thought of flying planes into towers. The tragedy is the hatred that grew in his heart, that hatched such a plot. The tragedy is the hatred so many others felt, hate strong enough to drive them to carry out the plan, to kill themselves just to kill others.
Where did that hatred start? When will it end? What have I done to cause it, and what can we all do to stop it?
Around the world there are thousands of young, innocent children untainted by hate, just as Osama Bin Laden once was. The forces that set to work twisting Osama's heart are still in place, still active. There are hundreds of terrorists still free, still planning attacks because of the same hate in their hearts. They still carry out his goals. Because terror was not Bin Laden's invention. It will continue until the conditions which created it cease to exist.
Bin Laden is dead, but there is still a lot of work to be done, and it cannot be done by force alone. No matter how many terrorists we kill, more can rise to take their places. The answer to lasting peace, to freedom from fear and terror, is in the heart. We have to kill hatred, but hatred thrives on gunfire and death. The only thing that can combat it is love.
So while many feel it is necessary to continue to hunt for terrorists, there is another battle which is even more important. The battle for education, for equality across gender and racial lines. The battle for jobs and rights. The battle for respect and a chance to live life with dignity. This battle turns enemies to friends and learns how to forgive.
Our battle cry ought to be for life, not death. Peace cannot be won with death. It is time not to kill more terrorists but to build more schools, more hospitals. To build bridges of understanding and friendship. To take away all of the reasons the terrorists have for fighting by showing them there is nothing to hate. To make sure that no more children can be caught and twisted by this infectious virus of the heart.
Jesus, when faced with hate, did something strange and wonderful. He did not try to fight those who were in the wrong. Instead, he lifted up those who had been wronged. He held out a hand of friendship to all who cared to take it, and taught that the best way to build a better world is by helping each other, not hating each other. He let himself be killed because that was the only way to conquer death and hate. Now He is alive because hate cannot triumph over love.
We will make no progress against terrorism, with or without Bin Laden's death, unless we release our own hatred. We should not celebrate the fact that a man is dead. Instead celebrate life, and when the party is over make sure that what you do next promotes love, not hate. Because hate got us into this mess. It can't get us out.
Not an hour ago this morning I saw the newspaper headline. Osama Bin Laden Dead.
I stopped still, staring at the huge color photo of a party around the White House. What? That guy? Really? I haven't heard about him for ages, but I remember his name. No one can forget that name and that face. I had to check the Internet, listen to the president's speech, read people's comments, before it felt real.
When I was celebrating with family, enjoying life and remembering that we are free from death, thousands of miles away across the sea a man was being killed. A man who had orchestrated the murder of thousands and inspired hundreds of others to follow in his footsteps and continue the terror.
I am a pacifist and generally disapprove of war and violence of all kinds. Yet I cannot say I am sorry that this man is dead. He can no longer hatch plans, no longer inspire, no longer champion the cause of fear and destruction and twist young, impressionable minds until children are ready to do terrible things. There is still danger, of course. Bin Laden's followers will probably strike back hard and soon and we have to be ready to endure it. But one man who caused death can do so no more.
I celebrate, but I do not celebrate because a man is dead. I celebrate because more now have a chance to live. And not just live, but to live with dignity, free of fear.
Yet I also feel that Bin Laden's death is a tragedy. The entire affair is a tragedy that started decades ago, long before anyone thought of flying planes into towers. The tragedy is the hatred that grew in his heart, that hatched such a plot. The tragedy is the hatred so many others felt, hate strong enough to drive them to carry out the plan, to kill themselves just to kill others.
Where did that hatred start? When will it end? What have I done to cause it, and what can we all do to stop it?
Around the world there are thousands of young, innocent children untainted by hate, just as Osama Bin Laden once was. The forces that set to work twisting Osama's heart are still in place, still active. There are hundreds of terrorists still free, still planning attacks because of the same hate in their hearts. They still carry out his goals. Because terror was not Bin Laden's invention. It will continue until the conditions which created it cease to exist.
Bin Laden is dead, but there is still a lot of work to be done, and it cannot be done by force alone. No matter how many terrorists we kill, more can rise to take their places. The answer to lasting peace, to freedom from fear and terror, is in the heart. We have to kill hatred, but hatred thrives on gunfire and death. The only thing that can combat it is love.
So while many feel it is necessary to continue to hunt for terrorists, there is another battle which is even more important. The battle for education, for equality across gender and racial lines. The battle for jobs and rights. The battle for respect and a chance to live life with dignity. This battle turns enemies to friends and learns how to forgive.
Our battle cry ought to be for life, not death. Peace cannot be won with death. It is time not to kill more terrorists but to build more schools, more hospitals. To build bridges of understanding and friendship. To take away all of the reasons the terrorists have for fighting by showing them there is nothing to hate. To make sure that no more children can be caught and twisted by this infectious virus of the heart.
Jesus, when faced with hate, did something strange and wonderful. He did not try to fight those who were in the wrong. Instead, he lifted up those who had been wronged. He held out a hand of friendship to all who cared to take it, and taught that the best way to build a better world is by helping each other, not hating each other. He let himself be killed because that was the only way to conquer death and hate. Now He is alive because hate cannot triumph over love.
We will make no progress against terrorism, with or without Bin Laden's death, unless we release our own hatred. We should not celebrate the fact that a man is dead. Instead celebrate life, and when the party is over make sure that what you do next promotes love, not hate. Because hate got us into this mess. It can't get us out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)