The Giver lives in Our Town

In Mrs. Vavra's sophomore American Lit. class, we gathered into small groups and read certain plays from the past century during our "20th Century Theater Month." My group read Thornton Wilder's obscure play "The Skin of our Teeth," in which Sabina and a host of other colorful characters crash historical events on the stage. Many people don't know this wonderful play, because many have only heard of Wilder's more widely known play "Our Town," which semi-inspired "Dogville" (the movie by Lars Von Trier, starring Nicole Kidman). Anyways, so right before I left L.A. I found a copy of "Our Town" for a quarter (oh I how I love thrift stores in L.A.---I miss them already) and decided I'd add it to my summer reading list (a list I have laughably yet to really even officially start).

So now I'm reading "Our Town," and it is simple but lovely. It may seem strange that I'm reading a play before I go to bed, as it's not your typical Mary Higgins Clark or Dan Brown summer fiction reading type-of-a-book, but for me---honestly---I love that I'm finally getting to read it and so many other classics like it because I feel like I robbed myself back in high school by sliding through and hardly reading a thing! If it weren't for Miss Smith, my senior year A.P. English teacher, I might have even escaped high school having not read "Hamlet!"

But back to books I'm reading or have been reading: "The Giver" by Lois Lowry...I skipped it in 5th grade but came across it recently and said "I need to read this Newberry medal award winner!" and so I did, and again it made me so happy. I don't know if I would've appreciated this book or many others for that matter, had I read them when I was "supposed to." So perhaps now is my time---as the writer of Ecclesiastes would probably agree---and today is the day when I will see the beauty in so much literature that I blindly and foolishly scoffed at during my early childhood years.

So here's to a summer reading list sprinkled with bits and pieces of the classics! And by the way, don't be surprsied if I start quoting famous dead literary geniuses and turn into a high school english teacher by the end of July. As you all know, I tend to get caught up in whatever it is I'm currently reading and someeeetimmmes take my happiness a little too far.

Hospital hugs

My first day back working at the hospital yesterday went wonderful minus a few things. I enjoyed seeing many old faces, scrubbed out in their appropriate hospital uniform attire. Since I've been gone, Robin gave birth to her first baby boy and he's almost six months old now! I saw pictures and ooo-ed, and awww-ed respectively. And then there is Pat, who since I last left has chosen to die her hair a very horrible brown color and at first sight, I was tempted to tell her that I much rather preferred her beautiful silver-colored hair, as opposed to her present choice, but instead I say nothing and hug back. Some thoughts need to be spoken; others must be taken through the ringer before coming out of the huge hole in one's face. Otherwise, there probably would be very few people with friends here on planet earth.

Case in point: nurse Jenny saw me and didn't recognize me at first. So when it clicked in her head, "Yes, this is Neville. From last summer. You remember!" she gasped and blurted, "Oh my gosh! I saw you from behind and I thought you were an old man! What with your receding hair and all!"

She said it like it was Kalamazoo Gazette front page news. Like it was the given common sense we all really must recognize, and point out. She hugged me tight, laughing and giggling, and I have to admit, my gut reaction was to give her a noogie while trying to rip chunks of her own hair out of her head---you know, just so she could feel what it's like to have "receding hair." But then I thought, 'she's probably right.' After all, my hair...styled with gel and sticking straight up, and getting longer every new day, probably resembles a 42-year-old doctor's head more than my own 22-year-old one. And so, I keep hugging Jenny back, and I smile, and I think of how fun it is to be 22 years old and already losing your hair.

I guess I should've never made fun of all those Rogaine commercials I saw when I was young. God is surely getting back at me...in a very smart, and clever way. Oh well---that's life: God-1, Neville-0.

And yes, I AM keeping score!

Only seven more to go.

I already have three movies lined up to go on my top ten list of 2005, and while this may sound dorky and lame, I feel like a big burden has been removed from my life because of this. It's usually so stressful trying to dig through all the cream and the crap when it comes to narrowing down all the movies I've seen in one year, but this year seems to be looking up as it isn't even July yet (e.g., Most of the "good" movies don't come out till' summer or fall or around December 31st)!!

So here we go, if I had to make it up right now:

1. "Millions"
2. "Crash"
3. "Enron: The Smartest Guys In The Room"

I'm such a dork. Goodniggggghhhhhhhht.

Power, please.

I've been thinking about power a lot lately, and how so much of what we do everyday really comes back to our need for it. I don't like to think that I have this problem too, because really, it's much easier to look at the corporate criminals tied up in the Enron scandal and see them as the real power addicts. But essentially, that is to fall into what Madeleine L'Engle dubs judgmentalism and it is too crowded of a road to walk down already. Every time I feel the urge, the need, the must-ness to be right, I'm struggling with power. Every time I look at someone else, and envy and and envy and envy whatever it is they have that I don't, I'm struggling with power. And every time I let control lead, and allow certainty to continually pave my way, I'm giving in and buying into whatever lie power is marketing and advertising.

It is indeed everywhere we turn here in America. You don't have to look too long or too hard before you find it or see it. Power is what so many of our conversations are really about and it's sad to see and understand and comprehend how this very thing can rip the Church apart--and the world too, for that matter.

But still, life seems worth the risk. The risk of living for love is a "fearful gamble," (again, Madeleine L'Engle's phrase---not my own) but it is one I'm ready and willing and wanting to repeatedly make.

Come into my pole barn, please.

The garage sale / yard sale / pole barn sale signs are all over town today. I guess you know what that means: I'm not in California anymore.

Here's to frenzy Friday garage sales and much fun-in-the-Michigan-sun. And as Kelmo "Moselle" Blomgren would like to say...."Boo-yeah!"

The bread, the wine...the pretzels, and diet coke.

There's something about the Eucharist that transcends into all meal times I think---as long as people are open enough to sense it.

Tonight, after flying back from David and Kelly's wonderful wedding in Minneapolis, I had a two-hour plus conversation wtih Dot, a sixty-something-year-old Catholic who was exactly who I needed to talk with after these past few crazy weeks. It was the first real, amazing, transparent, affirming, Catholic / Protestant background dialogue I've ever had where it never turned into any sort of debate or argument. As we sat there, me in seat 16D and she in 16E, we said nothing until the breaking of the pretzels and the serving of diet coke. Up until then, we had both been reading or in our own little American Airline world...trying not to make contact with one another I think. But then, the food came and the pretzels were broken and the diet coke was served to both of us, and we couldn't hold back any longer. And God, I think, had something to do with all of this.

She shared with me about the rich tradition and meditative worship of the Catholic faith, and I shared with her my sunday school class Protestant upbringings, and told of how much I valued these memories today. She needed help with her parish in these ways, while I needed guidance in Protestant problems and it went on and on like that until our plane landed in California. We said our goodbyes, blessed one another and gave the kind of hug Jesus would be proud of, no doubt, and when our own little ways.

And after that wonderful moment, I thought again of how wonderful it is to be apart of something as radical and as breathtakingly beautiful as the Church of Christ. And I thought about the bond Dot and I shared---both spiritually and emotionally---and the common ground we walked on and talked on together. And I thought about the way we laughed at ourselves and joked about the silliness God must look down upon at us in---so often and so frequent. It was the perfect ending to two near-perfect weekends of two events where close friends were pulled together as one by God and by the Church.

I usually never say things like this, but I'm so looking forward to meeting Dot again--wherever and whenever that may be. If it won't be till' heaven, I'll be just fine with that.

And so, the breaking of bread and the sharing of wine proves to be more than just an act or sympbol or practice we meditate on when we remember Christ's sacrifice for us---for really, whenever there is a meal being shared by the people belonging to the open-wide-arm hold of God, and there is fellowship and food and laughter exchanged, there Christ is...affirmed and remembered in spirit, in act, and in action. And the world is really, as Bjork would say, "full of Love"---again.

My paper from heaven!

I don't think I've ever had the freedom to write a paper this random.

I like when the professors are open to ideas and are not as strict as to where you decide to take your paper. For me, I wanted this one to be crazy---something no one had ever written about before---and so, I'm writing a missiological and theological discussion (written both informally and formally) about Lesslie Newbigin (the great India missionary / evanglelical / theologian), the Church and its relationship with the film industry, AND drawing from three films ("Amelie," "Pieces of April," and "Millions") as springboards for theological dialogue and discussions.

It's either going to be really cool or really bomb---I'll let you know how it goes once I'm done with it. Good night.

The Playboy Mansion

Yesterday for work, I had to run something to and pick something up from the Playboy mansion. Yes, that's right---I was actually there (not inside the mansion itself, but on the premises). I entered the gate, I saw the little white bunnies (yes, actual bunnies---not women) playing in the fenced-in dirt sections near the entrance and I realized that it really does take up half of a mountain off of the infamous Sunset blvd.

My mom and dad will be so proud, for sure.

After 7 years, Nate & Erica are one.

Nate and Erica Shorb. It's official. And it's done. And it was beautiful. And it was very, very good. And I think I just fell in love with Coopersburg all over again. And yes, I cried when "One April Day" by Stephen Merritt was played as Erica walked gracefully down the aisle. And yes, I suppose that makes me somewhat of a strange groomsmen. But I don't care. There was too much of an affirmation of love in the room to react any differently I think.

Some people make getting married easier. I know that marriage itself is not easy at all, but I do know that some people are blessed to enter into the union of marriage having already practiced quite beautifully what it means to be one. For Nate & Erica and their wedding this past weekend, I kept thinking about how I never thought of them as two and wondered whether or not that was why this wedding seemed so unique and special to me. Perhaps it has more to do with this being the first wedding I've attended where a very close friend was the groom---I don't know. Whatever it was though, somehow I'm not worried at all for Nate and Erica. I'm just anxious to see what God will bring into their lives and to see how much love they can keep giving away.

Some people are just better at being selfless I think.

I hope you know!

Contrary to what some people may think, the previous post regarding palm trees, too much sun and Tom & Yvonne Shorb was not in any way written with the intent of receiving something in return. I know Yvonne makes the meanest and yummiest cheesecake I've ever had (and believe me, I've had a lot---just look at my gut)...but my love for these two people is not because one of them makes delicious food; it is because they are truly two of those kind of people who you really need to meet and once you do, begin to fall in love with immediately.

So Yvonne especially, take that for what it is: a compliment and nothing more. I'm not expecting a cheesecake out of you this weekend (wow, that sounds a little strange now doesn't it) so if you try and pull a fast one and make one, rest assure you'll be wearing it before I'll be eating it.

Good night all...and good morning to the rest of you.

Burnt by the Sun

The title of this post is borrowed from a Russian film that won the Academy Award for best foreign language film a few years back, and although I never saw it, I always wanted to and liked the title of the film---despite its implied simplicity.

Yes, I was out in the sun yesterday for Memorial Day. Yes, I was out a little too long. I hate whenever I happen to want to go outside and read under the sun, and then get the suddenly immediate feeling of being really really tired. And then, time gets fuzzy...and I can't seem to remember if it's been two minutes or two hours since I last looked at the clock. Time is very weird sometimes. It must be its own entity or something because I swear sometimes, it's just playing me for the necessary fool that I am.

This weekend is Nate and soon-to-be Erica Shorb's wedding, and as I've told them already, I think I'm getting a little too excited for it. I'm a little worried what I might do at the reception, as it will be the first time in quite a long time that I've been around any Taylor people or my beloved Tom and Yvonne Shorb---two of those wonderful people that everyone in the world should meet at least once. And I think the fact that I'm taking a red eye flight from California to Pennsylvania makes it even more exciting. There's nothing more thrilling than going to sleep in one part of the world and waking up in another. Obviously, I realize this "change-of-worlds" is happening from within the U.S. borders, but still, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited about it. I know it may sound like America is the world as I know it, but believe me when I say that's not at all true.

The sun is out today and the palm trees are trying their best to look beautiful. I never knew this until I moved here, but there are many people---especially mid-westers and east-coasters---who find palm trees especially ugly. Why? I haven't the faintest idea. To me, they seem to be pretty cool and beautiful too. I can think of few sights more beautiful than the gazing up at the L.A. night sky, while driving on the 110 freeway...where the palm trees silhouette themselves into the dreamy, starry heavens. After experiencing several of those moments, I think maybe this is why God made palm trees so unusually tall and awkward. Because other than mountains, there's not a whole lot in creation brave enough to face the sun and the clouds and the stars so closely, and so beautifully.

So please, give palm trees a break. They may be no "maple" or "oak," but they're still pretty wonderful even if some people don't particularly care for them at all.

Loving people is hard; but loving Christians is harder.

It’s scary the way we Christians today view church and pastors similarly to the way we view Hollywood and celebrities. It is no longer God’s church, it’s man’s church. In Orange County, you’ll find Rick Warren’s church; in Minnesota, take your pick: Greg Boyd’s church if you like women in ministry, John Piper’s church if you don’t; in Chicago, there is Bill Hybel’s church—where most mid-west pastors sadly envy to one day be working at; in Virigina, there’s Jerry Falwell’s “homosexuals are taking over the world” church; and in L.A., there’s Erwin McManus’ church vs. John McArthur’s church—with its own big, phat McArthur Bible. And of course there are many, many others. Every book-writing evangelical Protestant pastor of a mainline church seems to be Tom Cruise or Julia Roberts for the shameful subculture of Christianity. But this can’t be right, can it? This can’t be what God had in mind.

I’ve been thinking so much lately about church unity, I feel my frustrations are running out of places to hide. Why do we keep splitting and starting new churches based on denominational differences? Why do we end the argument and discussion and conversation on such controversial matters as if to say, “well, we’re not going to agree so we might as well part, and go our own separate ways.”

No! Why not stay until we agree, or continue the conversation within the fellowship of the Body until we become continually edified through our attempt to be unified? Do we have so little faith in God’s power to seriously work through a church united, as opposed to a church divided?

Jesus said that a kingdom divided against itself will not stand, but fall. My question is simply this: how many churches in America today—separated from one another so much that unity even under the roof of one church is not even possible—are slowly falling? Or more appropriately, how many of them have already fallen? It seems somewhat silly when you think about it to just up and leave whenever disagreements come up in churches. After all, we’re human and fallible and differences come with the territory of being human. Likewise, it seems silly to leave the conversation or debate from within a Church community and say, “let’s just agree to disagree.” Why? Who told us this is a valid response? Who sold us such an easy-way-out? Because it certainly wasn’t Jesus!

Maybe I’m being too much of an idealist, but need I remind you that there are roughly 74,000 different Christian denominations present in the world today? Could this fact signify that maybe be this “let’s just agree to disagree” mentality is flawed? That maybe, to some degree, the really important issues worth arguing for should be wrestled with and through until unity becomes the selfless communal goal all members of the body of Christ are aiming for?

"Take the risk, and just jump!"

Sometimes this feels how most relationships seem to work.

Either you're keeping something from someone you're trying to get to know, or you're thinking about telling them but fear how they might respond in return. Every time I get in this pickle, I usually go through the same thoughts that inevitably lead me back to square one. And every time I happen to be daring and stick my neck out and just jump into the dangers of a loving relationship---and tell what I know I should tell, and be honest about what's been hiding behind closed doors---I am usually relieved, and the burden leaves my mind like a ship off to sea, far far away from the harbour.

I hope tomorrow I will jump when this time comes around.

Dating 101

Yesterday, I had a beautiful conversation / discussion with Greg, a friend from Taylor I work with, about L.A. and dating. We were talking about how so far off the "norm" is here when it comes to what's acceptable or expected if you're dating someone, and got kind of depressed about the whole thing. Sure, I love my generation but I wonder how much its hurt us to not have a steady, positive, consistent, dependent and altogether loving model on which to build our own romantic relationships on. I'm talking of course about the rampant divorce rate that's skyrocketed in the past 50 years or so, as one afternoon of listening to Dr. Laura can tell you no doubt. You'll hear kids---of parents who are divorced---calling in to try and make things right...trying to mend the wounds and broken bonds their parents have inadverently created within their own family, and it's just really sad.

I know this sounds like I'm a fundalit (Madeleine L'Engle's word creation of a "fundamentalist" and a "literalist") but it seems that the norm in today's society is not something I'd be too happy to always cling on to. Greg and I talked of how we don't think we'd want to be classified as being on the same lines as most people in L.A. when it comes to dating, partially because relationships are usually seen as "the end all answer to solve all of my problems." But as Greg paraphrased so aptly, from that lost-long-Disney-feel-good-heart-tugger "Cool Runnings," "If you're not good enough without this person, you'll never be good enough with this person." I guess he was basically saying that there are some places where only God to go, and I guess for the most part, I'd agree.

The problem comes when you become a "fundalit"---and you start naming where God should and shouldn't go, or where God should or shouldn't be---and that is a sad day, indeed. We Christians talk too much about what God isn't and project too often what God is only as seen through our own eyes. I realize that this is somewhat inevitable---when talking about the infinite, the finite explanation is as far as you'll get---but it still bothers me (even though I'm guilty of this too). I just wonder if it's even possible today to talk about God purely, without limiting Him or Her to a gender, or angry judge, or timid lover, or passive referee on the sidelines?

Time for Time

Before the plethora of summer movie crap hits theaters, do yourself a favor and see the movie "Millions" if you can. If that's not possible, it comes out in July on DVD I believe, so you better watch it then or else. It's definitely one of the most beautiful---looking and sounding---movies I've seen in months, and asks the kind of smart questions few movies nowadays do.

In the movie "Dogma," the title character Bethany who works in an abortion clinic is asked to do the unthinkable: be the driving force, and the person to accomplish and carry out God's work on earth. It is not unlike Mary's own calling to be the mother of Jesus, as I'm sure Mary encountered her own fare share of first century equivilents (like in "Dogma" with the scary teenagers skating around viciously with hockey sticks in hand trying to keep Bethany from completing her calling). But if Mary wouldn't have had the courage and bravery and loyalty and patience and ability to say "yes!" then this world may still be waiting for the Messiah to come.

Sometimes I wonder if all of us get a call from God to do something brilliant and great and history-shaping-and-changing, and that the number of people who truly respond is just so small it's hard to see God working in the world because of ourselves. Instead of God being the problem, maybe we are. Maybe we settle for the main road rather than running toward the seemingly inconceivable and ridiculous path because we are too short-sighted to see and know any better? We think of time as being oppressive but I'm not really sure that it is. And maybe that's where a fundamental flaw in our thinking lies: because we age and grow old and change with the seasons, we think we're running out of time but really we're only spreading ourselves out deeper and wider into it. It's hard to not think in terms of life and death, but I think getting this idea down is one way to begin to think right about our world and our path in this crazy thing we call "life."

Congrats to all 2005 Taylor University grads...

Yes, today is the day you've been waiting for and now it's so gone already. Four years working toward this moment and how does it feel? Anti-climactic, perhaps?

Whatever bittersweet emotions come about, know that this moment only reinforces what so many movies---Kill Bill, Cast Away, A Very Long Engagement, About Schmidt, and many more---have been telling us all along: the gem of it all is found not in the arrival but in the process. It's the pursuit of wholeness, or rather, the wholeness of pursuit that is, perhaps, the bigger, better thing.

Good day, all. Kiss the Taylor grass for me in front of Morris if you can before you head out. You'll be glad you did.

Spontaneous Combustion and the 2005 Taylor grads

We all need to do something unplanned every once in a while and today, I was feeling I needed to do that very much. Amidst a load of papers due and books for class to read, I felt the urge to do something that would normally take planning and run with it to make it happen. Sadly, I was the only one up for such a thing, and so, my spontaneous thoughts were flushed down the toilet.

In light of the soon-to-be-graduates of Taylor University, I just wanted to congratulate all of you---especially the ones I really like---on accomplishing four years of education in so little time. And I also wanted to remind you that from here on out, it will be an ongoing battle of learning to live strictly by the book and by the planner, OR choosing to live with purpose and meaning and spontaneous fervor and a willingness at any moment to drop every-thing in life you own and possess, and immediatly run, run, run into the horizon of endless dreams and sunsets; into the place of irrational baby giggles; and into a world where you live for love, and people, and not for schedules or money.

I hope none of you choose the latter of those two. Good day and congrats.

Go Bo Go!

Oh, and I hope the final A.I. round comes down to "The Vonz" and Bo. But after tonight's show, I can't say I'd like to have anyone but Bo win. I'm sorry but he's the only one out of the three that I never felt nervous for while they were singing. That tells me to put my money where Bo goes, and so, I'm pretty much there. Go Bo Go!

Challenging the Fundamental Bunny

For someone who's as careful about what they say as I am, it's no small feat to come out and question the general political stance of my beloved Christian brothers and sisters. Asking "But Why?" may sound simple, but for me, it's not. It's much easier for me to rage and complain and object and scoff on the inside---because I always win the argument when I do that---than it is for me to tell a person what I'm really thinking or wondering at the moment.

And so, lately, I've tried to do just that, and can't tell you what a thrilling and freeing feeling it is. I hope I can keep this up because I'm really starting to like doing this.

(And sorry for beating around the bush---as this post doesn't really delve into "what" exactly I did do---but I'm taking my cue from "Mean Girls" right now and trying not to talk about people behind their backs. But wow, it's much harder than I thought it would be.)

Come to Me

Every now and then, I come to the Bible and see it as alive again. I know it always is alive theologically speaking but most of the time, I don't think I really believe that. If I did, I would be reading it much more often than I actually do. That's not to say I should beat myself up for not reading it enough---because that would turn into being legalistic---but it is something when you realize again the very power and love that once drew you to God in the first place, is still well and active and living and moving.

When I read Jesus' words, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest," I can't think of a better way to sum up the entire empty space of ultimate need that all of us feel eventually in life. The kind of need that cries out "I'm tired...I'm fed up....I'm sick of trying to do things my way...I'm sick of trying to always be right...I'm tired of always trying to look presentable...I'm at the end of my rope, and I need help, please!" Everyone has these feelings and although I don't think I was necessarily feeling any of those things last night when I read this verse for the first time in a very long time, it did still give me comfort and hope and was the very words I needed to hear at that moment.

Madeleine L'Engle once wrote, "Our faith is a faith of vulnerability and hope, not a faith of suspicion and hate." I think my big goal in life right now is trying to make that a reality. Choosing the words that will build up, instead of the ones that would tear down. Looking for ways to find joy and peace and ways to bring people together, instead of living and breathing in the self-righteous and self-centered pompous air of judgmentalism. God is God over all creation, and His love stretches from and to "all corners of the cosmos." I just think I tend to forget that every morning I wake up. I keep forgetting and God---don't ask me why---keeps reminding me and loving me, despite this. I wonder if there will ever come a day when I remember all day this simple truth: that God loves me, this I know, for the Bible, tells me so.

How likely? Very likely.

In response to the comment on my previous post:

"Yes, I would like to think that should such a horrible thing happen, I would move heaven and hell and re-arrange whatever pieces in what I usually call my life to take care of this kid---despite how irrational and illogical it sounds---because I guess in the long run, making sure this kid grows up to know he had two parents that loved him very much is (I think) more important to me than dallying along with my so-called life-plans."

It seems silly to try to speak definitively on the matter (because really, it is in the end one of those decisions that must be made again when and if it comes to your world, face-to-face, in the heat of the moment). I'd like to think that reflects what my friend Dave means to me---doesn't laying down one's whole life for a friend also constitute laying down a very much alive life too?---but maybe I'm just being wishful. Either way you look at it, what I said I meant and so, that's all I really can say at the present moment in time. Sometimes the best decisions in one's life are the ones he never makes because they sound so absurd, so hard, so illogical and so totally selfless. To me, this sounds like one of those decisions; so how could I say "No!"???

All is full of Love

Bjork was so right, even though so many times love doesn't seem to be anywhere around us.

My freshman year Fall semester roommate Dave Hoe called me up yesterday and as soon as I saw his name light up my cell phone display, I thought I was about to hear the good news: the baby had been born!!!

But the baby had not been born, although the due date is tomorrow. Two previous trips to the hospital were false alarms, and so, little Elliot Fox (yes, they already named him) still sits, hangs, grips, and kicks inside of Lindsay and waits for his time to come. Waiting to enter the world is a pretty big deal; I wonder if he knows what he's getting himself into? Not that he really had a choice I guess.

After talking to Dave about how excited he was to become a father, I got sad and wished (or at least part of me did) that I was becoming a father soon too. And that's when he asked the question that stumped me:

"Neville, Lindsay and I would like you to be the baby's Godfather?"

I was stunned, and couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"Are you serious or is this a joke?" I asked.

"No, I'm serious."

"Well, what would that entail?" (dumb question, I know---but hey, I'm not Catholic even though I wish I was, and so give me a break)

"Well, should anything happen to Lindsay and me, we'd want you to raise Elliot."

"Oh, absolutely!" I said. And that's how it happened. I became a Godfather for the very first time, and I was thrilled. I didn't think about it; I didn't project and prophesize into the future and think hard on what that would look like for me or what I so-call-my life; I just said 'yes!' It was the first un-selfconscious decision I've made in quite a long time, and it's one that reminded me again of God's love for us all and how he gets us all to love each other and care for each other and help one another, despite ourselves.

And so, I sit here on a Sunday night, quiet for the first time in days, and think of the joy-peace that only Love can bring. It is sobering and depressing and uplifting and more beautiful than the sixteen mountain tops I see driving into work every other day. It confirms the fact, or more importantly...truth, that all is full of Love and there is no ounce or inch of creation that God does not hold to be his own.

Wipe Your Feet At The Door

It's been an ongoing discussion for centuries: how do you open up the church doors---both literally and figuratively---to the world it so often blasts and condemns?

When a prostitute comes into church, in need of guidance and community and love and friendship, what do we do?

"Oh yes, we can help! God can help!"

And for the next few months, the prostitute obstains from prostitution. But then, she slips back--she goes back to her old ways on Saturday and returns to church on Sunday. Intervention, please!!!

"I'm sorry Mary, but if you're going to prostitute you can't be apart of the church." And so, Mary is shamed and looked down upon and thus, leaves thinking she is an outcast for good.

My question is this: how is Mary's problem different from the entire Church's wrestling with sin? Do I get asked not to come when I've slipped back into habitual sin, or addictive behaviour?

This situation happened recently at a friend of mine's church and I was so distraught over what I heard. "They did what???" Yes, they told her she wasn't able to participate in the "benefits and blessings" of the Church if she kept on sinning. This is not helping people think that our doors are open to everyone. I wonder what would happen if God would've asked this church member who asked the prostitute this, "Have YOU given up your life of sin? Totally, and completely?"

The same thing goes with the whole homosexuality controversy, and the belief that people must change first before they are welcome (or at least, admit they are struggling and detest what it is they seem to be caught in). I'm not really sure what The Church is trying to protect? I understand the importance and value of character, integrity, and reputation, but there's a difference between the Church's reputation and what the Church often projects as its reputation. Quite possibly the biggest reason why people are turned off from Christianity is hypocrisy; yet, haven't we---as the Church---created this problem? Instead of saying we are weak, and poor in spirit, and tired, and confused and in need of redemption, we say to the world: "We have answers! We have THE solution! We can make you into a better person! We can make you acquire blessings! We are almost perfect! We are for what's "right," not what's "wrong!" We are against abortion! We are FOR life! We are FOR war! We are way better than you, but if you come inside you might be able to be as good as us!"

Sure, I'm taking some things to an extreme but this seems to be it. We offer ourselves as models instead of God, and in the process, the world looks at us and laughs.

I know we're in a paradigm shift. I know this is radical and hard to articulate and hard to really work and live out in the way church is done, but we've got to do it: we need to stop asking people to wipe their feet at the doors of our sanctuaries, and start letting the carpet and pews and each other get a little messy.

Back to Life

It's funny and unsettling the way certain things in life become tainted. For instance, with all the recent L.A. freeway shootings I find myself (especially at night) not driving side-by-side by any car for too long. I'll either slam on the brakes or change lanes immediately just out of fear that I might get shot.

And then there's that little thing where I look at the time--as I did this morning--and see that it's 9:11. In an instant, I remember again and think for a second about it--and then I go back to life. Or at least, the thing that I so-call life. Maybe seeing 9:11 on my cell phone clock and fearing for my life on the L.A. freeways is more Life than I'd like to think.

Whatever it is, it's definitely more than a feeling.

World On Fire

I know back in high school I never cared for Sarah McLachlan but now, I think I might be having a change of heart.

When I saw her music video this past week in class for her luminous song "World On Fire", I was taken aback: this is not the Sarah McLachlan I remember.

And so, Sarah has been playing a lot in my car lately and that, so far, has been a pretty wonderful thing. But really, you should check out the video and see for yourself. After my professor showed it to our film class, every pastor in the room wanted to know "who is this singer" and "what's the name of this song again" because they wanted to show it in a church service I think. Yes, it really is that good...even though at first, I thought it was going to be "just another world outry for help." It's not. By the end, the music and images from around the world get to you---another reason for it being a pretty wonderful thing.