Now I'm really a Southern Californian

When I was out here for a semester back in 2003, I never really felt like an official L.A. resident. I mean, I may have lived here, breathed the smoggy air, and driven on the same crowded freeways now and then, but I never thought of myself as "really" experiencing L.A. After all, most everyone who is from here or who has lived here complains about one thing: traffic. And unfortunately (but fortunately in my mind) I never really experienced the harsh, repeated, mundaneness of the "parking lot" L.A. daily traffic jam.

Now though, is a new day. This quarter for school, my schedule forces me to be in rush hour traffic at least three mornings a week, which is big considering that makes my one-way commute roughly 1 and half to 2 hours. Now, I'm not trying to brag because in reality, it's not something I should even be bragging about. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit a small part of me actually likes being stuck in the traffic; a part that secretly loves being able to finally say, "Were you driving on the 10 freeway this morning at 7:00?" or "Wasn't traffic on the 101 / 210 / 605 / 710 / 105 freeway simply unbearable last night!!??" These complaints are not just about complaining but are about one's identity. Essentially, they say, "This is me and I live in L.A....and I have a right to complain about traffic because I've experienced it!----Have you?" Which is why so many people feel L.A. traffic somehow connects shared experiences with every other person living in the 150 mile radius. And this is why my friend Liz Boltz was right when she commented once that being one of two billion people in L.A. wasn't so bad after all, and on the contrary actually felt oddly really really good (Sorry Liz for not quoting you precisely...but I remember you were the one to say it so I wanted to give you credit).

So call me crazy, but it feels good to belong to a place as cold and big and smoggy and disliked and trafficy as L.A. is. Maybe because it makes me feel special and makes me feel like I live somewhere that has enough problems to pass around the table--wherever that may be--and with whomever I may share a meal. And that, for some reason, feels pretty good.

Easter

The last full day for me in Michigan before heading back to California was also the day of Christ's resurrection--Easter Sunday--where all of Lent's sacrificial love is let go, and released into the sky and up into the heavens. I'm not sure why exactly, but this Easter was especially rewarding. Perhaps it had to do with the wonderful Easter program at church, which reminded me that the ground is level at the foot of the Cross, and that there's room for everyone---even me---at the table for sinners.

There was a drama done today that emphasized the fact that everyone is welcome, specifically pointing out that while all of us may not be worthy of a seat or a place next to Christ, all of us are definitely wanted and welcomed and pursued by His everlasting extension of grace.

And yet, even after this incredible and hope-filled message of the gospel of Christ that is more "Universalist" sounding than many people would like to think, a friend of mine from high school youth group came up to me and began filling me in on his life and his happenings, adding further details that disturbed and nearly ruined my joy and meditation on the wonder and power and mystery of Christ's resurrection. My friend began to tell me of how recently a gay nightclub in Kalamazoo, Michigan had burned down and informed me that if he was working fireman duty that night, he would've quote "taken his time and let the queers burn."

(Something is still not right in the world, despite the reality of a resurrected Christ!)

Extremely bothered, I began to subtly add how frustrating an attitude like this was (especially coming from a "Christian") and added how I hoped none of the people there that night were hurt or injured. Even though my friend did not catch how mad I really really was, I still pursued this idea a little bit...adding how ironic it was for a place to be burned down by people seemingly anti-gay, anti-reconciliation, anti-Easter, yet probably all regular church-goers. I lamented how sad it is, and how ashamed we should be and then---for a very long moment---I wished Michigan wasn't my home. Not that this friend was speaking for everyone, because I know he doesn't. But it is probably an idea entertained by more people than not, and so because of that, I wished I could've been somewhere else at that moment.

Maybe I'm just ultra-sensitive on this subject because I feel like most of the time---as a Christian---I find myself relating to the gay people of the world more often than with my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. Maybe it has somewhat to do with my disgust for stereotypes, and my frustration with my own inability to really speak my mind and call people out when they say such hate-filled things. I don't know what the real thing is, honestly. I only know that today was Easter---the holiday we Christians claim to be crazy for. And yet, even still, I saw someone trying to tear down grace and stomp out the hope of the gospel in just a few little words. I found one of God's children running from grace and running to hate, as opposed to running to grace and running from hate. This is what saddens me most.

One writer I can't remember (sorry!) recently wrote, "We're Easter-Christians living in a Good Friday world!" I like how that sounds, but today, I was bothered by how much this one conversation managed to turn my Good Friday world into an even more grim one. One that was still focusing on shadow, rather than light; hate rather than love; death rather than life.

And correct me if I'm wrong, but that's not the kind of Easter Christ was meaning to bring to His creation at all.

The Real Days

As much as it pains me to admit this, there are just some people in the world who lack almost any artistic vision. And when I say vision, I mean vision as related to seeing things with an artistic/creative bent.

I'm not sure this creative way of seeing can be learned--in a lecture educational setting, that is--because really, it's something you grow up with and learn by way of looking and hearing and feeling and experiencing and loving and being loved. Obviously, my generation is audaciously image-driven but contrary to much Boomer thinking, I don't think that's a bad thing. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm actually very excited to see how my generation turns out. Because we tend to elevate the relational side of ourselves, we're often not content with unreal or inauthentic friendships. We crave intimacy, desire meaning and few of us could be accused of really wanting the American Dream. In a sense, we're very different from our parents.

Sure we have our setbacks, and we have trouble dealing with finances and aren't as stingy with our money as maybe we shoud be (or shouldn't we?) but all in all, I'm so glad I'm growing up now--despite the craziness of the world in which we live in--as opposed to growing up 50 years ago. I know those were the "good ole' days," but in all honesty, there are so many people that came out of the good ole' days that are not only NOT good but are also unhappy, unfulfilled and worst of all, consumed IN themselves. This is where I feel my generation is trying to come in and change things around and mix things up. We want something real but we also want to keep playing. We want to grow old but we don't want to grow up. We want to be like little children but we don't want to be treated like them. We want community and don't want to be alone. And the list goes on and on and on.

This post isn't really going anywhere in particular I guess. The point, as thought of in modern days, is not so clear. I guess I just wanted to point out how thankful and grateful I am to be a part of this generation...which is something I think few people in the past could really say honestly. I'm thankful I'm where I am--even though it's not perfect and not yet whole and not yet fully blossomed into the life-potential I think it will someday be--and this suits me just fine for now.

So to all my fellow ones---Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Mormon, Atheist, Agnostic, God's Beloved little children...whatever you call yourself---I just wanted to say I'm so glad you're living in this world with me now.

Anne Lamott writes it better

I just finished reading "Plan B" last night (Anne Lamott's new book) and while I pretty much loved almost every page of it, I came across two lines that leaped out at me and seemed to encompass part of what I was trying to convey through my most recent blog post concerning "certainty" and "grace" and "fear" and "being human."

In it, she writes: "...the opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty. Certainty is missing the point entirely."

I wish I could put things so profoundly and so concisely.

Afraid of Grace

Sometimes, I think being a Christian makes you more afraid of life.  I know it shouldn't but it does and let me explain why.

When you're constantly being spoonfed answsers to life's biggest questions and repeatedly told how you should respond to any given moral dillemma, it's really hard to remember to be human.  And to take that a step further, I think we Christians eventually use this fear of being human in ways harmful to ourselves and those beloved ones we claim to be
trying to reach.  When you can't be human and acknowledge that not everyone knows the "right" answer to life's most "demanding" purpose-driven questions, how can you know--or much less empathize with--people who still feel they haven't found any answers at all?

Now, before you jump to conclusions, let me confess that I haven't always been a grey kind a guy.  Most of my life, I saw black--and there, over playing by itself in the wildflowers, was white.  The two distinctions were very easy to spot because my world was full of people showing me how to box things up, compartmentalize, and package up ideas in hopes of shipping them off to either heaven or hell.  But now, I wonder if God is really that simple to figure out.

Some days I think God wouldn't create us to be uncertain; other days I think he created uncertainty to remind us all that we are not God.  Some days I see more answers, and other days all I see are questions.  However, I've thought a lot and I think I'm starting to come up with an idea that makes sense to me.  Clarity without insight is empty because in the end, no one truly wants to be told how to feel, think, and act?  After all, isn't part of humanity our own uncertainity?  And didn't God take the biggest risk of all in creating humans to choose what to feel, think, and act?  And is clarity really clarity when one is forced into believing it or feeling it or thinking it or living it, without ever make the conscious decision to do so?

I don't think God wants people who say what sounds right all the time.  In fact, I don't think God agrees with most Christians on what sounds right most of the time.  That empty road is called extreme moralism, and too many Christians are on that road and God is no longer with them.  And vice versa, they've stopped believing in God altogether really.

The world is complicated...this I know. No one wants to constantly be told what to do because in the end, I don't think it really matters what you're told to do or what you're told to be.  But what matters is what you're doing, and who you're being: are you being
a human made in the image of God, or are you being a Christian who thinks they're no longer human?  One of those is idolatry; the other is living in grace.

I just have a hard time remembering to live by the latter I think.

Mony, Mony

Today, thanks to a courageous, impulsive and ridiculous hair-decision I made on Saturday, the financial lady that works in our office stopped dead in her tracks and said, "well, hello billy idol!" I took it as a compliment and smiled saying, "That's exactly who I was going for!"

Thank goodness I'm a guy b/c I don't know how girls do it. One bad hair decision for a girl and it's a nightmare; one bad hair decision for a guy and it's like, "eh..it'll be gone in a month." Unless of course your name is Bo Bice or Constanine!!!

I'm such an American Idol geek right now. How lame, how droll.

I hate shopping for birthday cards

I don't care what anyone says about this, but there is no good birthday card left at any drugstore or wal-mart or hallmark shop in southern California. Which is pathetic, ridiculous and frustrating.

"I was on Cheetos for 10 months and I lost 20 lbs.!!!"

Another weird confession from my childhood.

Everyone is familiar with the weird diets and unique blending of different foods to help you lose weight faster, right? Well I can remember when I was younger (probably around the age of 12, when I first became a little "husky" (I hate that word) and when I first remember being self-conscious about my weight) imagining what it would be like to do my own infomercial on how eating potato chips or cheetos or cheese helped me lose 20 lbs. Sometimes I would take a handful of chips, go to the bathroom, and practice doing test commercial takes into the mirror with me smiling and slowly eating and chowing down on a big, orange cheeto. The announcer man with the low, peppy voice would fill the bathroom and go something like this: "...And studies have recently proven that eating 18 cheetos every morning actually helps reduce cholesterol and increase your body's metabolism...so essentially you turn into a fat-burning machine!" My crunching on the cheeto and frequent winking into the mirror cements such a claim. Except for the fact that I saw myself as a weight-burning machine in progress and not necessarily the end result. "Thanks to eating Cheetos, I feel like a new kid again," I'd say.

Oh the things we chubby kids will think of to justify eating chips in the morning. And oh how much greater life would be if the more cheetos you ate, the more weight you'd lose.

Entertaining Worship?

A guy recently commented how he didn't like my church because it was too "showy" and it felt like one big "entertainment spectacle" which made me think and ask him many things, one in particular that seemed to stump him: "what's the difference between entertainment and worship when done within the context of a Christ-centered community?" Now, I know the Protestent part of us tends to tell us that it's not really good to be "wowed" when you're at church but I'm beginning to wonder why?! The church I'm apart of here in L.A. is really hip, young, and talented, but at the same time, are we to criticize these people for being blessed with such God-unique talents and gifts? For instance, there is a group of Christian dancers and choreographers that formed at my church that every few weeks puts on a dance to convey some theme or idea to the congregation (not slow, mime-dancing...but hip-hop, mechanical, techno-savvy dancing). The first time I saw them, I was blown away at the uniqueness of their gifts and began thanking the Lord that they could express themselves and be used as part of the worship at a place like Mosaic (the church I'm apart of). So many churches don't seem to find any place for these creative outlets--these artists that are definitly out there in our world--which is why I'm so confused now when people from my generation gripe about worship being more concerned with entertaining than worshipping. What is worship? What is entertainment? Can you have one without the other? Should you have one without the other? Is it wrong to utilize both, so that (God-forbid) our communal worship experience could be both praiseworthy to God, and pleasurable and enjoyable for ourselves?

Obviously, the answer depends a lot on how you would define "church" and "worship," but I think when you look at the Bible, the opportunities in worship are endless. Think about it: God has created humans---these very complex, creatively intuitive beings who thrive in relationships---and yet, enjoying one another and our worship of Christ are supposed to mutually exclusive? Are we getting too individualistic? Too "cater to my carnal preferences" when we see church and how it fits into our lives?

Perhaps we need to stop seeing it as, "this church fits me better" and start seeing it as, "this church most challenges my thoughts on God, the Ultimate artist and leaves much room for unity amongst diversity." It's funny what starts to happen when you stop caring about what YOU like and what fits YOU and start caring about the community of believers and what best serves THEIR needs (and eventually, what best glorifies God). When you break it down this way, your tiny little whiny and self-absorbed voice suddenly sounds like everything worship is NOT about.

Mean Girls In America

In a little over a week, it's my turn to lead my movie small group bible study and so, I get to pick a movie and am having a hard time deciding. Should I go with "Mean Girls" or "In America?" Hmmmm. We've been watching a lot of serious movies lately (i.e., "Seabiscuit," "Braveheart,") so that's why I'm leaning towards "Mean Girls" right now. But so much of me wants to pick "In America" because I don't think any of them have seen it. I can't decide. Maybe I should pray about it? 'Cause I know God has willed one over the other!

"Bye Mateo, Bye! Look after Frankie, look after Frankie!" Stop. The father stops speaking and waving and looks down to his daugher, as tears begin to swell up in his eyes. His daughter looks up at him and says, "Say goodbye to Frankie, Dad!----Dad...say goodbye to Frankie." A shot of the moon fills the screen, and the hardness is then broken.

In case you haven't seen it, that's a scene from "In America." Maybe tomorrow I'll do one from "Mean Girls" and make the decision off of that...but that's going to be hard to top for me I think.

The Beauty of Saying "No!"

Maybe being raised in the late 80s and early 90s wasn't so good for me after all. In schools, every sub-school program was centered around the student's decision to say "no!" (i.e., "Just say NO to Drugs" or "Just say NO to sex" or "Just say NO to smoking cigarettes", etc.). Guest speakers would come in and give true testimonies that would scare our little 10-year-old selves half to death which is okay I guess, as long as you later inform the kids that there are even good things in life that you should say no to too (not that sex, drugs, or cigarettes are "bad things," it's just that....well, you know what I mean I think).

Perhaps that's part of my problem with people and friends and my need/desire to please others: I say "no" when everyone in the free world should say "no," but not when my own gut tells me to. Meaning, I tend to overcommit and take on projects other people suggest (I can do them but I really don't want to and the passion is just not there) in hopes to please them and appease them, and I'm beginning to see what a bad habit this really is. I usually think that if I'm "free" or "available" then all is fair game and when someone asks me to do something during these times, then I should do it right away. But last night reminded me that I cannot live like this forever. I have to--sooner or later--come to a point where my "no's" come just as frequent, if not more often, than my "yes's." Does this make sense? Maybe I'm the only one struggling with this, but in my attempts at being forward and direct, I wonder if I'll ever sacrifice that little thing called grace and that bigger thing called selflessness in my attempts to NOT overcommit?

I don't know. All I know right now is, I said "no" last night as directly and to-the-point-as-possible and it was such a good feeling. I never knew how freeing the word "No" could really be? They didn't teach me that in those anti-drug elementary education seminars. Go figure.

One Cate Away

Looking at my predictions list from Saturday of who "WILL" win...I was so so so so happy to see that I was right in every category I listed on my blog EXCEPT for Best Supporting Actress (to which I said Virginia Madsen would win for "Sideways"). So close and yet so far from perfect, huh?

I missed the last two awards of the night because tiVo wasn't smart enough to record longer than the scheduled 3-hour-time block, so I didn't get to see Clint or "Million Dollar Baby" win the big two. Another example of why technology will never be able to fully replace human beings I suppose.

Oh well.

Overall, I'm happy with the outcome of this years Oscars because for the first time since 1999, I felt like a smaller, independent-like movie won and while I wouldn't want that to happen every year (because it would probably be too depressing), it's a nice break from "Lord of the Rings" and "Chicago" type movies I think. Also, I loved that Morgan Freeman won, and I loved Kate Winslet for looking the best she's ever looked. Okay, maybe I didn't "love" her (the superlative spirit within me is saying that I guess) but she was the knockout looker of the evening if I do say so myself. That dress! Wow! That blue! Yikes! And to top it off, she played Clementine in "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and was in "Finding Neverland!" She had a pretty amazing year, which makes up for her playing Bigsy or Bitsy or whatever her stupid name was in the blah-blah-blah "The Life of David Gale."

Have a million dollar week. Oh, and is a movie propaganda just because you disagree with its message OR is there some other objective way to judge it by? I was just wondering.