KONY 2012

Christian PTSD and a bunch of other stuff

Warning: Stream of Consciousness Ahead—Slow down when approaching the curves.

·         There has to be a respectful way to argue that Christianity may be the greatest threat to the teachings of Jesus Christ.

·         There has to be a way to open up the discussion with spiritually honest folks about the burden of Christianity on the intent of Christ’s message to ALL of humanity.

·         There has to be a meaningful way to investigate the problems generated by Christianity without attacking individual Christians.

·         There has to be a way to criticize the belief system without tearing down the believers.

·         There has to be a way to look at Jesus, the red letters, and the Cross from a first person perspective instead of through the filters of Christianity.

·         There has to be a way to escape the zoo of Christianity and view Christ in the wild—no barriers—no separation—no vendors—no warnings—just people standing right in front of the Lion of The Tribe of Judah (Rev 5:5).

There has to be a way……...but I don’t know what it is.

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I’m never so “on point” and cautious as I am when I attend a Christian church service. Most would think that it’s because I’m damaged goods or that I’ve been wounded by church folk in the past and just haven’t healed yet. Well, that might be part of it, but I’m nobody’s punk. I don’t whine about injustices and angrily stomp around fuming over defeat. I have a pretty short memory when it comes to confrontation and even rejection. What I don’t forget easily is disrespect or contempt—both personally and when observed from a third-party perspective.

I don’t carry a chip on my shoulder, but you won’t ever sneak up on me easily more than once.

Let me explain what it’s like participating in a church service (traditional or contemporary—mainstream or off-the-grid—clean-cut preacher or guy with an 8” goatee) when you have all your senses in hyper-active mode at the ready for any type of a flanking maneuver. It’s exhausting!

It’s like playing soccer on a field where there MIGHT be a couple landmines. You’re not sure if they’re there, but they MIGHT be so you’ll need to diligently scan the ground as you “play” the game. All the while the other players on the field joyfully play the game without worries or hesitation. In contrast to them, you play the game like Rain Man trying to get on an airplane.

I like to think of it as Christian PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). Does that mean I consider myself a victim? Of course not! I was a volunteer. No one made me participate in the system dynamic which is Christianity.

Or did they?

No. What am I saying? No one forced Christianity on me; it was a choice I made on my own at the age of 9.

But………..… I don’t know. I mean what other alternatives did I have? At 9, the choice was quite clear—either accept the basis of Christianity as expressed through my particular church congregation or reject the message of Jesus Christ and what his life/death means to me for all eternity.

And THEN radically remodel those Christian ideologies at age 11 due to the different philosophies at our new church community. Then there was the refashioning of those beliefs at age 15 after my parents had given up religion all together and I had to start evaluating doctrine and theology on my own (which meant I would attend the church where most of my friends went).

That was a Christianity based on the sound ideology of: God wants our youth to have a full-functioning gymnasium and lounge areas with pool tables and old couches. That wasn’t a bad Christianity. It provided many of us a place to meet members of the opposite sex that appeared to be like-minded Christians and thereby “safe” for exploring the nuances of dating during our mid-teens. We really took advantage of that one!

Next month’s overnight lock-in—Hell, yeah, I’m gonna be there!

There were lots of other churches with just as many different flavors of Christianity. All of them had good points and bad points IMO. But there was always one thread of consistency that ran through all of them—Jesus. So it came to pass that when I finally got tired of readjusting my own sense of who Jesus WAS based on the plethora of versions I came into contact with (Jesus version 3.7 – Jesus version 20.8) I began to think about what all of the different flavors of Christianity must look like from Jesus’s perspective (confession: I usually type “Christ’s” instead of “Jesus’s” because I’m never quite comfortable with that spelling—too many ssssssses).

I still don’t have any idea what it all must look like from the Jesus perspective. I realized the dangers of that thought process early on. It required me to assume that I knew anything at all about how a creator evaluated his/her creation. However, I think that it was that time in my life that led me to pursue writing. I wanted to know what it was like creating something you were proud to present to others whether they appreciated it or not and then see what it would feel like witnessing what others would do with your creation. Sometimes they tear it apart. Sometimes they OVERLY embrace it. Sometimes they respectfully ponder it and give you a little chuck on the shoulder (those are probably the best).

But sometimes they ignore it. Sometimes they disrespect you and carefully shoo you out of the room so that the “real” grown-ups can talk. Sometimes they label you and your creation too artless or ordinary to be the work of anyone worthy of their time. Sometimes the flaws in what you create are evaluated contemptuously overshadowing any beauty, honesty, or truth you may stumble upon in the process of being creative. Sometimes you’re considered a piece of shit no matter what you have created because it’s not what the “real” grown-ups want to hear or are looking to decorate the walls with.

Dude…did I just hear an “amen” in the distance?

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There is a point to this weird post. Let me see if I can find it.

Oh, yes! What it feels like to attend any form of church service with Christian PTSD. It’s exhausting! I know I said that before, but I don’t know what more to say without coming off like some kind of raving lunatic hell-bent on throwing all Christian church-goers under the bus whether they have a “real” relationship with Jesus Christ or are just going through the motions in order to get an invite to the lock-in.

I don’t know where it starts or ends. Oh, wait! What about that Alpha and Omega thing? Isn’t Jesus the beginning and the end? Give me a second to Google that…

I knew it: Revelations!

You see, all those different forms, flavors, and versions of Christianity kept teaching me that Jesus was the “first and the last, the beginning and the end.” They kept telling me that, “Jesus is all you need, son.” They kept telling me that the spirit of Jesus lives inside me somehow as a guide or conscience or something like that. They all pretty much unilaterally agreed that I was safe as long as I was walking alongside Jesus following him to our next venue or just sitting atop a hillside watching a rain cloud come our way.

And then they turned the tables on me. They told me that I needed their approval. They told me that I was taking some of this Alpha-Omega talk a little too literally. They said that THEY were commissioned to be my shepherds and that I should get back to the flock. And do you want to know what I finally found in the midst of all of this conflict, chaos, and confusion that gave my soul a peace it had never felt before?

Jesus—Lion of the Tribe of Judah standing four foot in front of me on the savannah grasslands without a tree in sight—nowhere to run—nowhere to hide. I stared that Lion square-ball in the eye as long as I could anticipating some answers. I stared him square-ball in the eye—a bold man daring the Big Cat to attack. I grasped a knife in each hand and prepared to TAKE whatever answers I could get.

But in the end there were no answers. In the end, I dropped my knives, knelt reverently on my left knee, and began to weep.

I wept for all the people I had failed instead of all the folks that had failed me.

I wept for all the times I made others feel like shit because they didn’t know the right scripture or where a certain book was located in the Bible.

I wept for all the people I had forsaken because they were reluctant to buy into my version of Christianity.

I wept because I had planted some of those landmines on the soccer field hoping to expose those that didn’t believe the way that I did.

I wept for about 2 years.

And when the weeping was over I looked up to see the Jesus lion still standing there staring at me. He locked eyes with me for a moment as if to say, “you good now?” and then he turned around to leave. He walked a few steps away before turning to look at me over his shoulder. Then he said, “you coming?” (I know Lions can’t talk, but I swear on a stack of Bibles that this Lion said, “you coming?”)

I’ve been following Jesus ever since in a way that defies convention and tradition and ritual. It’s all so clear now. I didn’t need answers. I needed experiences. I needed time with Jesus. I needed to watch how Jesus loves.

Now I get to witness this same scenario playing itself out over and over between Jesus and other folks as I stand back about 50 feet and just watch the stare down until each individual, in their own time, bows to one knee and weeps however long that they need to. Then we all follow together as we move to the next venue or sit atop a hill watching rainclouds gather. It’s all very surreal and yet it seems so normal after a while.

This is all based on a totally real dream that I had once, BTW!

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I’m still traveling along watching and learning as the Big Cat (that’s what I call Jesus sometimes) gathers folks from all cultures, creeds, colors, and walks of life. I still don’t know where we’re all going or exactly what’s on the horizon, but these people I hang with are radically different than any of the folks I grew up going to church with. I’m not trying to say that they are better or worse—just different.

I’d much rather attend a 1%er function than a church service any day – any week – any month – any year. I feel safer at an outlaw mc gathering or bar than at any Christian function. What I mean is that there’s definitive protocol in the biker world. There are expectations and consequences that don’t shift or change depending upon the situation. You can always feel secure around a bunch of 1%ers as long as you know the rules—and the rules are always the same. Show respect and you get respect—act an asshole and you are sure to be treated like an asshole.

Church isn’t like that. Christians aren’t like that. The varying forms, expectations, and beliefs of different versions of Christianity can switch up on you so quick you have no idea what you’re supposed to do or who you might offend in the process. You might even be the BIGGEST asshole in the group and be honored because of it. It just doesn’t make any sense and it is NOT the least bit consistent.

Jesus makes sense. Jesus is consistent. He loves. He leads. He rescues. He bleeds. He roars. He finds YOU. He doesn’t care what you look like or what you THINK you know about anything. He wants you to watch HIM work. Pay close attention. He leads.

He leads because not only is he love, truth, honor, and majestic Lion but also because he is RESPECT.

He is respect to others. He is respect to our planet. He is respect to all of HIS creation. He places value in his creation whether we do or not and expects us to respect it (all of it) as well. This protocol does not waver. This protocol is a constant.

The lion demands you to respect yourself. If you cannot respect yourself due to the ongoing pressure of whatever group you belong to then you need a new group. You’re welcome to join me hanging with bikers, but you’re gonna need to know the rule of respect first.

I’ve found more personal discipleship at the hands of patch holders in the mc world than I ever did in 25 years of bible studies, retreats, or church services. What’s that supposed to mean to someone like me? I’m still trying to find out. I will tell you that learning the very specific means of conveying respect whether in the mc world, military, or any other organization which highly regulates and values honor, respect, and loyalty can elevate you spiritually to a place that looks down on Christianity. Yeah, I said it!

Give me the respectful cadence of a biker rally any day over a Christian function. At least with the bikers I know what’s expected of me. With Christians, you never know what they’re gonna spring on you. Hence, you have to always be on your guard with your speech, actions, and even body language.

That kind of hyper-active sense of uncertainty doesn’t bode well for the Christian PTSD victim and neither does participating in a game of “watch your ass” played on a minefield of expectations.

You get my drift……… 

When words fail the Heart can still hear

I don’t trust Christians.

Wait; it gets more offensive.

Christian functions make my skin crawl.

I’d rather listen to 24 hours of shrieking hurricane force winds than listen to Christian music.

I can’t stand Christian “worship”.

If I had my way society would cease all forms of sanctioned Christian activity, henceforth.

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I trust Jesus with all my heart, soul, and spirit.

Wait; don’t roll your eyes yet.

Good music, good drink, and meaningful discussion are healing to me.

The silent private moments of sensing Jesus somehow revealing things to me heals my spirit.

Good days and bad days—my life is my form of worship.

My idea of heaven is being around a group of real people with real problems talking about what works and what doesn’t.

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If you’re turned off by where I’m coming from with any of this then I guess we have to agree to disagree. Simply put, I reject the notion that corporate worship, sanctioned lists of dos/don’ts, and Biblical teaching provide direct pathways to the soul-heart-spirit. In a world of abject poverty, moral depravity, and social injustice I think we need to focus on direct pathways to the soul-heart-spirit. This is why I don’t trust Christians.

For one thing, Christians have traditionally been identified by their knowledge of Scripture, participation at Christian gatherings, and adherence to Christian mores. This results in a reasonable conclusion that an exceptional (more righteous) Christian will usually be one that has an exceptional knowledge of Scripture, an exceptional record of participation at Christian gatherings, and an exceptional adherence to Christian mores.

Herein lies the rub—no matter how beneficial those activities or compliances may be, they will never directly impact the soul-heart-spirit. These things can never ever replace the simple private reassurance deep in your heart (way down deep where the real stuff lies about like a cave full of treasure) that Jesus really likes you just as you are right here—right now.

The expectations of other Christians don’t mean shit. Listen TO your heart.

The rules and regulations don’t mean shit. Listen WITH your heart.

The behaviors of the people you associate with don’t mean shit. Listen to THEIR hearts.

Christianity (i.e. the belief system) will always be about molding and shaping people into what Christians think they should look like. What about what Jesus wants us to look like? What’s supposed to happen when we listen to our hearts and what we hear contradicts what Christians want us to believe? What happens when Christians convince you to stop trusting what your heart is hearing? What are we supposed to think of a Jesus that conveys messages to our heart that challenge us to ignore traditional Christian values? Who’s the real Jesus? And after a lot of these kinds of frustrating questions: who really gives a shit, anymore?

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Ephesians 6:12—for our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

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The rulers are those that set the rules. The authorities are those that enforce the rules. The powers of this dark world are those that treat humanity with disdain and contempt.

With a fully open mind and a fully open heart I cannot ignore the shocking similarities between the rulers, authorities, and powers that we struggle against and the prevalent mainstream belief system we call Christianity. I just cannot ignore the potency of Christianity to poison and hate and corrupt. I want to ignore it. I’ve been trained to make excuses for the disparity between what Jesus teaches our heart-soul-spirit and what Christianity teaches our minds. I’ve spent days at a time fasting and praying that all of this Christian learning would miraculously jive with what I sense is Jesus speaking to my heat-soul-spirit.

I’ve discovered that you cannot serve two masters without unwittingly discovering that you’ve grown to love one of them and hate the other (Mathew 6:24). It’s basic human nature. One cannot focus their supreme affection or devotion on Jesus AND the “riches” of this world. Be careful not to take the lazy approach to the word “riches”. Riches don’t always mean money. Toxic riches of the world are more often power, prestige, acceptance, notoriety, accolades, deference, etc.

Part of the problem with Christianity is that it is easily converted to a system which promotes power, prestige, acceptance, notoriety, accolades, deference, etc. That’s why I don’t trust Christians, enjoy Christian music, or attend Christian activities. It’s because you never know which one you’re dealing with—either it’s a Christianity contemptuous of humanity or it’s a Christianity filled with the flamboyantly prestigious. Rarely is it a Christianity that connects directly to the heart-soul-spirit.

I don’t trust Christians because the righteous ones look just like the toxic ones. I don’t trust Christians because they lie to themselves so much that it makes it easier for them to lie to everyone else. I don’t trust Christians because they don’t know they’ve been deceived. I don’t trust Christians because they never love me; they only love their version of me that they picture in their heads. I don’t trust Christians because you cannot trust someone that doesn’t believe in themselves more than in the system. I don’t trust Christians because I know how good the Kool-Aid tastes: it is very addictive.

I trust Jesus because he died for me and everyone else I’ve ever known or will ever know. We (the scumbags, scallywags, rebels, and misfits) are worthy based on the simple fact that we’ll listen to someone that we can trust. We’ll listen to someone that gives a shit and isn’t trying to sell something in the process. We’ll listen when we don’t have to sacrifice our dignity. We’ll listen because if you’re willing to die for me then my honor moves me to die for you if the time ever comes.We'll listen if we believe that you like us.

I am not willing to die for Christianity. Christianity did not die for me on a cross.

I am willing to die for Christ—even if my death is a result of fighting against the toxic effects of Christianity.

Listen to your heart. What’s in there? What’s happening inside there when the pastor speaks? What’s happening in there when people treat each other with contempt because of differing social/political/religious views? What’s going on in there when you witness a community of Christians affected by all of the same moral depravity as the rest of the world that they reject?

Listen to your heart. Then you can start learning how to listen to other people’s hearts. Then you learn that being willing to die for Christ means being willing to die for those around you whose hearts need someone to trust. If you’re gonna spend your time learning something: do yourself a favor and learn these things. Then you get to see what making a difference really means.

Don’t wait—do it now!

This is a very small part of what the religious rulers, authorities, and power brokers of his day did to Jesus.

From Zoo to the Wild - Spiritual Madagascar

The reason I write stuff like this is more often than not to work out some of the noise in my head. The noise that says: why can’t you just play nice—why don’t you go with the flow—aren’t you worried about risking your family’s spiritual growth because of your baggage—when are you gonna accept that you’re a lunatic?

Self-analysis is my means of weeding out static from the Morse code sometimes embedded within that static which is what I understand to be God’s voice.

It kind of pisses me off sometimes. How do I (and many others like me) profess this omniscient omnipresent Creator of the universe and, yet, God evidently chooses not to communicate with us via our ears. Seriously, that makes me mad at times.

If you want me to get to steppin’ on something, God, then talk to me for crying out loud. Don’t make me have to guess about it or seek someone else’s counsel about it. Just tell me with spoken words! How is that so hard?

Maybe my 6 year old daughter is right. One time she told me that God’s words are too loud to be heard by your ears—you have to hear them with your heart. Maybe…I don’t know. Maybe God doesn’t know how to whisper and a simple “how you doin’” would blow out the windows in the truck while I was driving and cause a massive wreck on the highway. Whatever…

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So the whole point of Lady and the Tramp meets Shawshank was to lay the foundation for what I think might be a universal model that explains why much of what we do, see, hear, and struggle with via religion seems so useless, irrelevant, and downright abusive.

·         Tame—an animal which accepts the control of humans.

·         Feral—animals that live in the wild after having been domestically reared.

·         Wild—the natural, free state of an undomesticated animal.

TAME

If you were born into a Christian home and have been nurtured by Godly parents, you are spiritually tame. That’s a good thing. That’s a fantastic thing. I, too, am raising my daughter in a home where we pray together and discuss God on a nearly daily basis. There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you are spiritually tame.

Spiritually tame folks get along well because they are more dependable. They are more likely to be peacemakers. They have hope for things like joy, peace, and love. They are a part of things. They guard our traditions and remind us of our heritage. These folks teach the Gospel well because they’ve been around it since they were weaned from the teat. These are good people that we should never ignore, dismiss, or reject.

WILD

From a purely Christian perspective, if you were born into a non-Christian, agnostic, or atheistic home then you are spiritually wild. Same wholesome values sometimes, but without the Christian deity involved. Spiritually wild folks challenge us. They keep us on our toes. They keep us honest with ourselves. Christians might think of spiritually wild folks as criminals or perverts, but that’s not the case. That’s getting into behaviorally wild people and that isn’t what we’re looking at. Besides, there are plenty of Christian criminals and perverts sitting in our pews and preaching from our pulpits so be very careful if your knee-jerk is to label folks by their actions or appearance.

Spiritually wild folks such as atheists are intellectually lean because they are able to engage the world without the confusing effects of mysticism. Not that they don’t acknowledge the mysterious nuances of the human spirit as expressed through love, art, music, literature and such. No, these people are appreciative of the mysteries in life and the world, but they don’t tend to attribute those mysteries to an unseen deity who comprises the ability to create and destroy at his/her discretion.

Just imagine how much simpler it would be as a Christian to explain your worldview without having to refer to an ancient text written only by men thousands of years ago. That’s what I mean by being intellectually lean—you save all that bandwidth by eliminating the need of carrying around all your mystic beliefs.

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Spiritually wild folks that do not believe in Jesus Christ as the Son of God and savior to mankind but do embrace some form of religious mysticism are some good folks, too. They might not share the core beliefs of the Christian, but they will usually line up very well with the Christian when discussing matters of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (fruit of the Spirit).

FERAL

If you were spiritually tame at one point and are now wild then you are spiritually feral.

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The spiritually wild person fears the spiritually feral one because if the feral crossbreeds beliefs with the wild it might disrupt the fragile ecosystem and adversely affect the harmony of the wilds’ balance with their natural habitat. This is why a feral person must hide their residual churchy-church vocabulary and worldviews when amongst the wild ones or else they will be perceived as weak-minded and rejected. In nature, the reason that a pack of wolves may turn on a sick or injured member of the pack and kill it is because of the natural instinct that one weak member makes the entire pack weaker as a group. This perception is quite valid. Christian views hard-wired into the brain of a once spiritually tame individual WILL dilute the integrity of a group’s non-Christian viewpoint.

Likewise, the spiritually tame person fears the feral one because feral beliefs crossbred with tame beliefs disrupt the fragile Christian ecosystem and adversely affect the harmony of the natural habitat (church). This is why feral people must hide their worldly vocabulary and competing worldviews when amongst the tame groups or else they risk rejection. Same scenario applies—the worldly views and mannerisms of the feral person must be killed as soon as possible lest they weaken the entire group via a dilution of the integrity of the Christian belief system.

All of this makes it hardly worthwhile to jump the fence of organized religion and disappear into the surrounding forest. The very real risk one faces is a rejection of the wild and of the tame folks. Perpetual spiritual purgatory is never really a favorable selling point. The feral Christian risks everything if they wish to experience anything outside the fence.

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The domesticated person (spiritually tame) has many advantages. They are fed well and often. They are safe behind the fence of religious expectations. They rest peacefully without worrying about what stealthy hunter might silently kill them in the darkness of the night. They can trust in the safety of their numbers. They are comfortable, happy, and content folks who are excited by wild ones that wish to convert via accepting the confines of the fence in exchange for regular meals and security.

However, it is imperative that wild ones willing to convert must follow the rules that maintain order within the compound. These are expectations that have proven for many years to sustain the order and safety of the tame lifestyle. To live within the yard, it is very important to respect the sanctity and righteousness of the fence. The fence is there to protect. The fence is there to defend. The fence is there to offer peace of mind.

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The spiritually wild lifestyle has many advantages as well. They eat food sources that thrive naturally and without cultivation. They stay alert even when at rest which sharpens their analysis of reality. They, too, trust in the safety of their numbers as they readily form packs. They are comfortable, happy, and content people but in a different and equally as valid way as the tame folks.

They aren’t as excited about converts that have been raised behind the religious fence. The thought is that formerly tame people cannot ever fully put aside their preconceptions and worldviews. Simply put, wild folks remain skeptical of newly escaped tame folks because the tame ones are always trying to trick wild people into coming into the yard. It’s like the tame people want everyone to be like them—to the wild mindset that is completely egocentric and maniacal.

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In all of this analysis we see two different groups separated by fences, rules, opportunities, worldviews, beliefs, traditions, etc. What the tame have to embrace as the core of their mission is Matt. 28:19.

·         But does this mean that the tame are being called to entice all of those that are wild and feral into voluntarily setting aside their lifestyles and beliefs in exchange for life inside the fence?

·         Is life inside the fence the goal of discipleship?

·         Has the fence been built by God or by man?

·         What is it that is so harmful and scary about living in the wild?

·         Does God have authority over the wild areas as well as within the fence?

·         What kind of psychological and physical stresses are placed upon a wild beast that is brought into captivity?

·         Is this enough bullet points?

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I’m still working on the answers to these questions. To tell you the truth, I don’t even believe that there is a fence at all [1].  I think both tame and wild have blindly accepted the reality of the fence for so long that they haven’t stopped to verify its existence in a very long time.

Because of this suspicion, I’ve developed a working hypothesis that the spiritually feral person seems to be the only one that can truthfully evaluate what is real and what is not. One that is capable and willing to function within either group brings a useful perspective to the table. They are able to discern the positive value of domesticated lifestyle as well as its negative implications on the soul. Likewise, they are able to evaluate the harmony inherent within the wild lifestyle as it conforms and adheres to the environment as well as understand the kinds of stresses and difficulty these things impart on the soul. The feral person is in a position to embrace the values of both and potentially bridge the gap between tame and wild. The feral person jumps whatever barriers exist at will.

If this is true then I boldly assert that the contemporary Christian generations of post baby-boomers who seem to be abandoning the ideas of domesticated lifestyle and jumping the fence are not moving away from spirituality or the church. Instead, they are moving toward the great commission of Matt. 28:19 but in a new and uniquely different way than anyone has ever devised before [2]. We’re not talking about a once-in-a-lifetime scenario—we’re staring at a once-in-a-civilization event.

They are becoming spiritually feral (sometimes at great societal risk to themselves and their relationships with older generations). But is this a bad thing?

As a lone feral animal roaming about the deep forest with no pack to protect you and uncertain about food sources or the location of water—yes, you can be in great danger potentially preyed upon by all varieties of creatures more likely to consume you than share their resources. However, as packs of feral animals begin to form providing legitimacy and knowledge of resources we begin to envision a scenario ripe with possibilities. We begin to see the abandonment of fences, divisive ideologies, and behavioral signposts.

What eventually emerges from the proliferation of a spiritually feral population is a new kind of revival—a renewed sense of loving one’s brother as we love ourselves (Mark 12:30-31)—a removal of the barriers we’ve long been devoted to as the source of our protection and safety. The reality is clear that these religious fences have failed to keep evil away or believers in check. The reality is clear that barriers and beliefs and rules of behavior do not create disciples or save lives or teach love, loyalty, or respect.

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Robert Frost’s Mending Wall is oftentimes remembered most for the saying that, "Good fences make good neighbors." But what Frost is actually writing about is that traditional values are all that keep us mending these gaps in the wall. He hints that the barrier between he and his neighbor doesn’t make sense—that the futile upkeep of their divide serves no real purpose that he can discern. I like Frost’s questioning of tradition versus reality.

I think Frost would rather have a glass of bourbon with his neighbor while laughing at all the effort they’ve wasted over the years maintaining something that was completely irrelevant. I think Frost would rather blur the boundaries between he and his neighbor and so would I.

I think Frost would agree with Jesus’ teachings of inclusiveness and embracing the leper as an antidote to fences and their upkeep.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall, 
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it, 
And spills the upper boulders in the sun, 
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

I think God is that something.

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In order to raise people’s expectations you have to challenge their preconceptions.

The Alaskan Funk—Short Term Mission Gone…Meh…

Last week I spent 5 days in Alaska on a mission trip. Our goal was to finish up a lengthy punch list of projects intended to get part of the hosting church’s building closer to an initial building inspection. Stairs/handrails brought up to code—electrical conduit run—drop ceilings installed in kitchen areas—vent-a-hoods and exhaust fans installed—all the stuff that city inspectors and fire marshals require in order to operate any type of commercial facility.

10 men ranging from ages 20 to mid-60’s from South Texas flew 4200 miles (one way) to donate our construction skills and time in an effort to “advance the kingdom.”

I don’t really know what “advance the kingdom” means, but it seems like a good fit.

So, we’re fed three hearty meals a day at the church. We’re separated into groups of two or three to stay at different church member’s homes. And we’re only asked to do inside jobs because, let’s face it, we’re all from South Texas and this is Alaska in November…those things aren’t even close to the same.

The hospitality was fantastic. The food was delicious. The homes that we stayed in made us all feel like we were part of their families.

So, this is the part of the tale where we metaphorically land on the carrier and announce “mission accomplished.” This is where I’m supposed to talk about the bonds that we formed within the workgroup and what a wonderful experience we had enjoying the magnanimous hospitality of these wonderful Alaskans. This is where I’m supposed to thank God for the ability to go—serve—interact with folks that I might not have ever had the opportunity to share life with had it not been for this short term missionary opportunity.

After 4 days of contemplation and analyzing this trip, I find myself increasingly disillusioned. I know we went there to meet a need. I know we went there to offer help. I know we went there to minister to the needs of this small congregation. I know that we went there with all the right motives. I know that the work needed to be done to further their project toward completion. I know that it was all seasoned with the best of intentions and that we exceeded their expectations.

Why do I feel so funky about all of this?

Oh, wait! I know why I’m jacked up over this trip. It’s probably because over $4000 was spent on airfare to get us all there and back.

It has something to do with the fact that the part of the building we were doing work on was 12 years old and had never been occupied because of a lack of completion.

I’m certain it has something to do with the observations that this all took place near downtown Anchorage (not out in the wilderness) where there were 5 churches within a 3 block radius.

And…you know…if I’d known that these folks were potentially competing with the mission across the street instead of partnering with them…Oooo…let’s not go there.

Call me naïve, cynical, overtly zealous, or just plain stupid if you like, but here’s my analysis of the funk:

·         You partner with other churches in the area, thereby, developing long-term relationships with your neighbors to collectively meet the unique needs of the community that you share.

o   You DO NOT ask a group to front the bill for airfare in order to get free labor from men that you’ll never see again. It’s the missional equivalent of a “one night stand” (the term missionary position should be worked in here, but I’m not that clever).

·         You analyze the needs of the community and weigh out whether or not the facility you’re trying to complete has any tangible value in relationship to those needs. If not, you leave it be (it’s set for 12 years—couldn’t be that critical to the overall mission of this particular church).

o   You DO NOT prioritize the completion of a building which has never been used simply because “we have to finish what someone else started” or because someone in the congregation offers a large sum of money to facilitate the completion of a portion of the project.

·         You determine what the direction of your church is and how God intends to use it BEFORE you engage in costly renovations without any concrete ideas about what you’re going to do with this structure once it’s completed.

o   You DO NOT repeat the mantra, “someday God’s gonna give us some direction” or “once this is complete our mandate from God will become self-evident.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There was a crazy homeless guy that was around the place quite a bit. He was allowed to sleep in the church’s van and camp out inside the building sometimes while we were there. He was obviously deranged and easily agitated. He was tolerated, but never welcome. Most of the members of the church avoided eye contact and relied heavily on one or two people to control / direct the crazy homeless guy.

No one engaged him.

No one made eye contact with him.

No one gave any indication that he was present.

Everyone tightened up a little with fear when he was present.

Would $4000 and the attention of 10 Texans have made a meaningful impact in this man’s life? Probably not.

Would an institution devoted to feeding homeless folks like this man every week have benefitted from $4000 and the effort of 10 volunteers for a week? Most definitely.

Will the money, effort, and time consigned to this Alaskan church’s building ever be justified through service to the community? Well, at last check, no one seemed to have much of an idea.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Can we just cut through the BS?

Anchorage has a huge homeless population. Why in the hell are we riding the non-committal fence of “praying that God will lead us to understand what our unique mission is in this community?” FEED THE HUNGRY—not feed the overweight Texans.

You’ve got 20,000 ft² that hasn’t been used for anything other than a 12 year draw for mission groups from the lower 48? LET THE HOMELESS IN OUT OF THE COLD—not let the Texans avoid the cold with inside-only projects.

Anchorage seems to have as many churches as any small city in the Bible Belt. Why aren’t these churches working together for any other reason than to eliminate the $4000 captured by Delta and forgotten like it was just spare change found between the cushions of the pews? BE GOOD STEWARDS OF OUR BENEVOLENCE FUNDS—don’t waste it on frivolous self-affirming travel agendas.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

All the men and women involved with this endeavor were good people. They had good intentions. They probably feel very good about how it all turned out and the means by which it was carried out. There were good things that resulted from the trip.

But there are far greater needs in this world than the fixing of stairs and the running of conduit. It’s an appeal to the lowest common denominator. It’s a lazy way to serve and it’s an inefficient use of time, energy, and money.

It’s leveraging a nice destination in order to gain free labor. It’s fun, it’s somewhat beneficial, and it generates a good feeling among the participants. We exceeded their expectations because their expectations were too low.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Final shot of Bruce Almighty is a gradual close-up of a dirty homeless guy holding a sign. As the shot grows closer the man’s face begins to morph into the face of Morgan Freeman (who plays God). The visual message is that God IS the least of these. God IS the crazy homeless guy with a short fuse and a mean disposition.

How dare we ignore the crazy homeless guy! How dare we avoid eye contact with the dirty disenfranchised! How dare we heat a building for 12 years while the homeless sleep on park benches throughout the Alaskan winter which lasts a really long time! How dare we complain about the length of the flight or the width of the seat on the plane or the lack of leg room as long as God is hungry, cold, weak, and lonely!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Last week I spent 5 days in Alaska on a “mission” trip. Our goal was to finish up a lengthy punch list of projects intended to get part of the hosting church’s building closer to an initial inspection. Stairs/handrails brought up to code—electrical conduit run—drop ceilings installed in kitchen areas—vent-a-hoods and exhaust fans installed—all the stuff that city inspectors and fire marshals require in order to operate any type of commercial facility."

I’m ashamed that I ignored the homeless guy in order to work on a building.

I’m ashamed that I ignored God.

I’m ashamed and confused about what to do next.

Are we really meeting needs or are we nurturing our self?

Where do we go from here?

The Walker

The Walker: An Anonymous Blur on the Horizon

via Red Letter Christians

by Morf Morford

"Even though virtually all of us have seen him as he wanders relentlessly, day and night, across and beyond his home town, few know his name. 

Those of us who know him call him the Walker. That’s what he does. He is well over fifty years old and has not had an established home for years. 

His mail is delivered at the local rescue mission (where I used to work). 

He walks."

[Full Article and Comments] 

Mainline churches on their next to last leg?

Report says tithing, church spending hit record low

via The Washington Post

“Churches on the whole are continuing to spend more on current members and less on the larger mission of the church and cutting back on missionaries,” said Ronsvalle. 

Ronsvalle even goes so far as to suggest “if a church is turning inward and valuing the happiness of its members” over service to others, “it is moving on a spectrum toward pagan values.” 

The bottom line: U.S. churches seem to be more concerned with their own needs and their own desires over the needs of others.

http://goo.gl/pRD8L

Marriage is a rubber band--deal with it

Marriage is a rubber band—there—I said it.

And not in a “suffering the welt of a pop” kind of way.

                                                                                            

This is not meant to be a deep discussion of marriage. It’s born out of my own day-to-day experience as well as the experiences of interacting in several dozen marriages of friends and family. Some of these observations have been of ongoing successes. Some of them have been of failures.

Ok, I’m already treading on dangerous territory because you might infer from my statement of “some have been failures” that I’m about to leap into a twisted rant about the eViLs of divorce and the uNhOliNeSs of giving up on a spouse.

That is NOT my direction. Far be it for me to determine what is best for all marriages under all sets of circumstances. The only marriage I can speak with any kind of authority on is my own. And even that analysis is one-sided. My wife invariably sees things from a different perspective than I do.

Ok, I’m tiring of the disclaimers. Infer what you want. Marriage is still a rubber band—deal with it.

The rubber band binds us together. It is flexible (thank God) and it smells like rubber (which is completely irrelevant).

The tension of the rubber band is caused by 1 of 3 different scenarios:

1. Spouses are moving in opposite directions.
2. One spouse is moving away while the other stays anchored.
3. A third force (work, kids, inappropriate relationship, finances, etc.) pulls at the band.

We are dealing with the forces of tension daily. It’s one of the reasons that sex is such a critical part of managing the rubber band. Whether it’s romantic and exciting or routine and boring, when we are sexually active with our spouse it’s the only time that we put the rubber band aside for a moment and come together. Everyone needs that tension release whether it’s for 5 minutes or 45. If it takes you more than 45 minutes then you aren’t doing it right.

Also, let’s define “sexually active” just for kicks. Someone that engages in physical activity only twice a month is not, under any circumstances, considered physically active. Similarly, if sex with your partner occurs about as frequently as a full moon then you, my friend, are NOT sexually ACTIVE. Get with the program!

Also, if you or your spouse always seems to be waiting for the tension of  the rubber band to subside in order to value or enjoy the sex, you’re missing the point. You’ve got the cart in front of the horse. Again, get with the program!

Spouses Moving in Opposite Directions:

What’s your example?

Mine is when my wife says, “I’d really like to have my entire family here for Thanksgiving.” My response could should be, “Okay, honey, let’s talk about what that would look like.”

More than likely my response is more like a scene from the move “300”—“Let them come! For in the end, we all must die just as we have lived! On that day, I will either hold my shield or be carried upon it!”

I am a very transparent individual. You always know where you stand with me. I don’t often hold back. I can put severe tension on that rubber band very very quickly. I suck…

One Spouse Moving—Other Spouse Anchored:

Maybe the anchoring isn’t a choice. Kids can anchor one spouse while the other moves freely. Work can anchor. Finances can anchor. Extended family can anchor. Lots of things (both good and bad) can anchor. Some anchoring can be healthy. Some anchoring can be unhealthy.

Either way, the tension of the rubber band can be managed as long as the freely moving spouse doesn’t pull too far away from the other. Some pull away might be good, but stretching it to its limits for prolonged periods of time weakens the band.

Remember, one spouse doesn’t want to maintain appropriate routine for the kids while the other is running all over the place or doing nothing at all. This situation can play itself out in a myriad of ways. Use your imagination…this affects both men and women and is NOT a primarily male disposition. We all do this in one way or another.

My example? First year of marriage my wife and I worked different hours. I was a 9 to 5’er. She was 2 to 10. So, what? I’m supposed to come home and wait on her for 5 hours pining away the minutes until my darling wife returned home to my loving arms? Uh, no… I would hit the pool hall, baseball game (we lived 2 miles from a MLB park), or favorite watering hole with my buddies. I was always home by 10. On a good night, I was mildly buzzed. On a not-so-good night, well……

Again, I sucked. I pulled tension on that rubber band 5 days a week and expected our time together on the weekends to be blissful and joyous. This was going to be great if I could just get the wife to get on board with my plan of pretty much doing whatever the hell I wanted to all week long. Thankfully, she never even head-faked at understanding that plan. She’s definitely got some Spartan in her too.

Third Finger at the Band:

This one seems to be a choice thing even when we don’t realize we’ve made the choice or that there was ever a choice to be made.

Work pulls and pulls and pulls and financial obligation makes us accept this ever increasing pull. What I’d like to say here is that money isn’t everything and neither is work so quit letting these things add tension to your rubber band. However, what I will say is that these things are a reality we all have to deal with in the real world and the tension must be compensated for by closing ranks with your spouse. As tension increases and until tension can be diminished, two points of the triangle must come together to avoid breakage.

The same thing applies to kids, outside activities, organizational involvements, and other activities.

Inappropriate relationships are an entirely different animal altogether. The devastating effect of inappropriate relationships as an influential force on the rubber band is exacerbated by the inability of spouses to draw closer to one another as long as one spouse allows the outside relationship to continue. These types of relationships aren’t always sexual affairs. They can manifest themselves in a myriad of ways.

My example is pretty vanilla so don’t get all excited. Give me some breathing room here.

///Deep Breath…….and breath out///

I had an affair with Skoal for the first 9 years of our marriage. Now, in all fairness Skoal had been with me for 9 years before we got married. What?! It was a matter of seniority. She knew I dipped when she met me and I never promised to quit before we got married.

Let me explain why this was an inappropriate relationship for me. It wasn’t as much that I was a tobacco user. It was that dipping was a taboo subject for my wife.

“I promise to love, honor, and cherish you all the days of my life, but don’t even think about talking about my dipping tobacco because that’s all mine. You stay the hell away from that!”

“You know I’d throw myself in front of a bus to save you, baby, but I do not discuss my Skoal with you, remember.”

“I would read to you from our notebook every day if you suffered from Alzheimer’s just so I could spend those special days with you when you remembered who I was and our life together, but if you speak of my Skoal again I will throw a walleyed fit just like I did last time.”

{Inappropriate relationship}

Of course, if you find yourself engaging in a better friendship with someone other than your spouse on a regular basis (emotional cheating) or you are boinking someone other than your spouse, that would work as an example too.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Managing the Rubber Band:

No secrets here. Find a way to shift when the tension builds. Don’t try to see how far the band can stretch before it snaps. Manage the band. Don’t let it cut off your circulation. It’s not the band's fault that your finger is purple. Manage the band. When 18 fingers are all pulling at the band from different directions and the two of you are situated as close to one another as you can get, that’s a good thing. That is oneness.

If your spouse is anchored for no other reason than stubbornness—unwilling to converse and adjust and compromise—then kick them in the ass. No, I’m serious (not physically unless you’re my wife). I mean get up in their grill and force the issue. “You’re being a stubborn jackass and I won’t have it. Compromise is not a one way street, dumbass.”

If your kids are pulling at the band for no other reason than to get their way then kick their ass too while you’re in the ass-kicking mood. Partner with your spouse and do some metaphorical ass-kicking. It can be your new hobby that you share with one another. “If you want to take on Mom then you gotta get through me first. I brought you into this world, and I’ll take you OUT.” This is called “going Cosby on the kids.”

If the both of you are moving in different directions as if you are independent souls enjoying full autonomy from one another, then just stop it. No, I mean it. Resentment is ruthless. It will sneak in and it will jack you up.

Remember that person you said you loved with all your heart? You can wind up sitting with friends a few years later talking all about what a piece of shit they are. The weird thing is that you might love them til the very last moment and then, suddenly, when the divorce papers are filed and you look over their demands with your attorney all the filters inside your heart will flick off revealing what a truly horrible person they were. But you’d grown accustomed to the immense tension on the rubber band so much so that your finger grew callouses.

What’s the Freakin’ Goal?

I think the goal is NOT just to adjust to the tension on the rubber band generated by life. Likewise, I do NOT think the goal is to avoid all tension on the band. I think the goal is to work as a unit to manage the band through all different seasons of tension with an eye toward the 65 years we should all intend to manage this very same band.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the rubber band is much more flexible or stretchy in the first 10 years of marriage. I think that’s a design feature. It flexes well and snaps back to its original size. It is resilient even when we don’t think it’s all that resilient.

Don’t treat your rubber band as if you intend on replacing it in 10 years even if you do. Likewise, don’t accept long term extremes of tension on your band if there’s something you can do about it.

Marriage is a rubber band—there—I said it.

Response to Chris via comments on "open to the elements"

"Open to the elements"


Chris, I think you're right on. Hence, I don't intend to try to convert you to the "dark side". You've gone to a great deal of trouble to explain your position and I respect that. Again, I agree with your perspective wholeheartedly and have argued the same points many times.

I think that the root of our disagreement is a difference of perspective. As in, you're drawing a picture of the same tree I am, but we're standing on different sides of the tree and at different distances from it.

When you've been away from congregational "church" as long as I have you loose your perspective on the people and it becomes all about the failings of the system. I realize that isn't the most objective means of analysis. However, I would suggest that those involved in the congregational "church" have an equally subjective view which elevates the individuals and ignores much of the institutional failings.

Here's the rub - the ones that we're trying to mirror the love of Christ to are OUTSIDE the institution and often very very far away. They cannot see past the institutional expectations of conformity, grabbing for money, and imminent hypocrisy bred out of a misguided marketing of holy living. I won't patronize you by going any further with this...I know you get it.

I spent 18 years in various levels of ministry from teacher to director to deacon in Southern Baptist and Methodist churches. I've written a book all about my frustrations with the system and with a nod to what I speculate it could all look like 20 years from now. I did my undergraduate work in English - Poli Sci - History at an uber-conservative Southern Baptist University. I miss the people I taught, debated with, and partnered with trying to change from within. Some of them are still close friends. Most of them turned their back on me when I could no longer accept the "status quo."

Here's what I'm looking for...to be able to combine my distant perspective with a closer perspective, like yours, in hopes of developing a comprehensive perspective that actually begins to bridge gaps instead of making them bigger. There has to be a reason why so many are leaving the institutional "church" in favor of social causes. I'm all about embracing change with an eye toward accepting whatever form it comes in. I, personally, believe that the change is a spiritual revival too large to be confined by the statutes of organized religion. My reasoning behind this is far too lengthy to go into in a comment box. You have to combine the ideas of about 30 different contemporary authors, speakers, and theologians currently taking up the mantel of change to even begin to get a full whiff of how big the next quarter century will be on a spiritual level.

Again, I agree with you about just shouting down the institution and throwing rocks through the stained-glass windows - I don't want to be THAT guy. I'm a problem solver. The reason I blog is that I'm still trying to find my voice and work out what this is all suppose to look like. The frustrating part for me is that I'm convinced that the problems of institutional organized religion aren't fixable. It seems like a house you love which cannot be remodeled any more. Best practice may be to just leave it be and move down the road to build something entirely new.

I also realize that all of this might be a result of my own baggage, but that thought seems to diminish the more I do this and the more I discuss the matter with those folks sitting far away from the institution. Those "outsiders" need more than a bridge - they also need a motive to use that bridge.