Rent

I am scared, scared unto death. The investment I have in my college career is beginning to fall apart, due to a severe lack in funds. My parents, who both want me to stay at VFCC and have been funding a large part of my tuition, missed their last payment because they couldn't afford it, and, recently, my state grant was cut in half due to mistakes on the FAFSA. Options are running out, and my dad has been asking me to think about doing something cheaper. Everything I have at school, all my friends, classes, professors and opportunities, could very well be ripped away from me because I cannot afford them. I am scared, scared unto death.

A few things run through my mind in this situation, things that Jesus said, and they aren't exactly the inspirational "I am always with you, even unto the end of the age" principles he has taught us. Those are in my mind, but I am also hearing things like "Go sell everything you have and follow me", "He who puts his hand on the plow and looks back is not fit for the kingdom of God", along with many others. I have said that God is all I need. I have sung about how his grace is enough. I have thanked God for his help and providence in many things. For this, I fear that my world is being ripped away, contrary to the song I once sang in youth group: "Though my world may fall, I'll never let you go."

Quite the paradox to remark on, I suppose. Where is my professed faith? Where is the trust that God will take care of me? Why am I worrying about something that will worry about itself? Why must I be so human? The Lord knows the plans he has for me, and I am worried about what I owe my college.

Trust hasn't always come easy to me (in fact, it almost never has). Truly, I fear the future and what might be happening for me, where I might go. I don't want to let my dreams go. I want to finish school and finish it well. I want to continue on to graduate school and get my doctorate in Philosophy of Religion. I want to teach college, and show young adults not only how to think, but how to love. Still, those things come to mind: "Sell all you have and follow me..." Is that what is being asked of me? Am I being asked to behind the things I had in mind for myself? Is God closing this door and opening another? What am I to do in this situation?

I do feel better, somewhat, after expressing this fear. Usually takes something like that, but it does linger, and no doubt will be on my mind tomorrow.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge him, and He will direct your paths." Proverbs 3:5,6

Canvas

I love my imagination, especially when it gets so real I have conversations with someone I haven't met yet about what I think about the world, and I plunge into the depths of my soul and find out something about myself. It's strange how that works, but it does.

Some of you know that I am an amateur photographer (that is, the one person who reads my blog). If you have ever seen my work, you'll notice a lot of close-up shots as opposed to distant, spread out ones. This is because of my love of the details in my pictures. Ironically, I'm not detail-oriented in my everyday life, but I love to get up close to things whenever I am taking pictures and see what no one else did, or what people see and allow to pass in and out of their memory so quickly. It makes me sad that people miss the details and intricate work in so many things, from raindrops on rose petals to the pattern of wood grain. Seeing these things is one of my connections to the Creator, who knows all detail down to the space between the quarks in an atom (I wish I could photograph an atom, that would just be wicked). When I look at my hand, I see so much more than a hand, but I see the worn lines in my palm, the callouses in my fingertips, and even the spidering movement of the arteries and veins that stretch all the way to the very ends of my fingers. I could spend hours in art museums looking at old paintings that have so much detail when you look close enough that you can forget what the original subject of the painting was and just marvel at the artist's attention to detail. This is the idea of art: getting people to see what they miss or allow themselves to miss. Art is in the lines in your hand, the holes in a brick in the wall, or even the arrangement of the elements of a blood cell, and we are missing it! We miss it because we don't slow down enough to look and see!

Art and creativity are what keeps the human race alive, what drives them to continue reproducing (Seriously). The act of sex is probably the most creative act one can do when done as an expression of romantic love and affection for your mate. Two bodies, who, under other circumstances, probably could be worlds apart any other time, join for a few moments of ecstasy and physical and spiritual connection. Our bodies are crafted for the enjoyment of someone we dedicate ourselves to, and their enjoyment of us leads to our enjoyment of them, and happiness and connection is found in that. Sex is truly beautiful and the work of an artist. We can cheapen this, unfortunately, by making sex the focus of our affection, but never, ever should that be the focus. Art is also the expression of our feelings, which means the art, though a medium to explain HOW we feel, it is never the feeling itself. The love we have for another can be expressed through sex, but sex isn't the point: love is. Sex is the canvas on which love is painted, and to use a cheap, dollar-store paint is to ruin the painting. The finest, truest materials are necessary in making art, and the same is true of sex. It must be of the finest materials and the truest emotions.

Just to close, I'm curious if anyone actually reads this other than Drew. If you do, feel free to leave a comment.

THE DEVIL IS IN THEM BOOKS!

So...a viewing of the new film The Golden Compass and a reading from the blog of a friend have prompted the following post.

As most of you know, a great deal of controversy has risen at the production of this new film due to the intent of the author of the book on which the film is based. The author(Philip Pullman), being a staunch atheist, has stated that his intent in writing is to undermine Christian values, viewing his trilogy of books as a direct rebuttal to CS Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia, a series Pullman views as religious propaganda. He is considered to be one of England's most outspoken atheists, and the production of The Golden Compass has caused a large outcry from the Christian community of evil and attempted brainwashing.

However, this outcry is far from being the first. For years, the church has boycotted and protested scores of movies, burned thousands of books as heresy, and condemned non-Christians everywhere for their viewpoints. Now, arguments on God's existence aside, this is getting really ridiculous. Have we forgotten, church, that we are also to love God with our minds? Are we so afraid of something different from our own thoughts that we must so insecurely strike at it? God is much more secure than any of the writings of this world, so why aren't we? Where is our lack of fear of such things that may challenge our faith and its validity, and therefore challenge us, as human beings, to understand it better?

One thing I've noticed in these times is that the church often shies away from something that it could learn from. In most of these instances, the item in question displays the church in a way that is tyrannical and oppressive. Naturally, as any average person would, the church strikes out against such a thing, and thus proves the item in question to be correct. If the world is viewing us as oppressive and tyrannical, don't you think it might be time to alter our thinking into a way that shows that our heart is to love them, not to oppress them? This doesn't make opposing ideas go away, nor should it. It's a principle that shows that love is more important than dogma, and in our society today, no person is more sick of dogma and condemnation than a non-Christian.

If you're a Christian and you're wondering about seeing the Golden Compass, I would recommend that you go and view it, but remain objective, and see it through the eyes of someone who maybe really just wants the oppression to stop. This goes for any book, movie, or music you may think is evil. There might be something very, very good (and spiritual) underneath it all.

Reason vs. Imagination

Here's an interesting thought I encountered while reading GK Chesterton's "Orthodoxy." In the chapter entitled "The Maniac" he introduces the idea that it is not imagination that drives a man insane, but reason. If you look at all the lunatic asylums in the world, you'll find that whatever the insane believe is completely logical. For example: "Switzerland is anti-war. I am anti-war, therefore, I am Switzerland." That statement is completely logical, however untrue it is. According to Chesterton, a lunatic is a man who has lost everything BUT reason.

This is why imagination is so important to the human psyche. If you'll notice, poets and artists don't go insane through their imagination. The beauty of their works flows beautifully across the infinite, and they become insane when they attempt to make that art finite. Logic can very easily become the bane of the human mind and any source of peace and clarity. This is not to say that logic isn't a wonderful tool of understanding; by all means use it as such. I know I very much love logic and the use of it, but what we must learn is that our imagination is far more important than our logic, as it is more powerful than it. At some point, as Kierkegaard claims, we must abandon reason for faith, for faith is stronger than reason. The mental exhaustion that results from too much reason is so detrimental, and the peace of mind resulting from faith is the ultimate cure.

Reverse Confessional

This, for me, is an attempt to understand certain emotions and thoughts and things that roll around in my head, as you can see. For the one person that reads this blog (thank you Drew), and for those who occasionally stop by because you see this link in my info or on my Facebook. So far, I've covered things that I dislike about the church, my own personal struggle with lust and insecurity, and my own longing to comfort the wounded. I think this one is going to be a sort of summary of those things, but at the same time, I really don't know.

As of late, I've been examining a movement in the church known as the Emerging Church (not Emergent, follow me here), or Post-Evangelicalism. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this movement, it's the sort of church that includes guys like Rob Bell, Shane Claiborne, Donald Miller, and Brian McClaren. It's gaining popularity among college age students, mostly due to its emphasis on postmodernism and cultural relevance. Core beliefs include a focus on missional living (loving people intentionally despite who they are), truth as subjectivity (and in some cases relative), and going into the world instead of telling them to come to church. Now, don't get me wrong here. I believe truth to be absolute, yet I do see how truth can be subjectivity. Still, what moves me about this church is how it reflects aspects of a church that I never, under any circumstances, saw while I was growing up.

Let me explain. I grew up in an Assemblies of God church in Newport, Pennsylvania, the epitome of backwoods culture. On the political scale, the entire county pretty much falls ultra-conservative, and though many people don't seem to attend church, they do believe in their own sort of version of God. My church is one of few Pentecostal churches in the county (one of three or four, I think), yet is still pretty well known. They sort of get a reputation for being crazy, jumping around during worship and a lot of talk about "baptism in the Holy Spirit" and "speaking in tongues." It's enough to freak people out the first time they come, but if they keep coming, they usually find that they're not so different from other churches in the area. Like the rest of the county, my church reflected an ultra-conservative agenda. When the Da Vinci Code was published, my pastor immediately took it upon himself to preach a two week series on the falsehood of the Da Vinci Code, sort of as an apologetic course. He has spoken out against abortion, gay marriage, and the Democratic party, and shown support for capital punishment and the current administration, and often invites speakers reflecting these same beliefs. Like any good A/G church, we have our Mission's Convention every year, displaying different aspects of different cultures and talk about how much they need Jesus. We have outreaches to our community where we give food to needy families, and outreaches overseas (such as Haiti and India) where we send teams to give medical help and food to the needy there. Often, preaching is a common part of these outreaches.

Now let me tell you why I've come to dislike this church. At age 13, I really had no desire to learn more about God because I had grown up with it and never cared much for it, but my mother insisted that I go along to the services of a week long Holy Spirit baptism thing going on at the church (my mother fits the above stereotype well). I thought I would give God one final shot. I went to the altar to receive the gift of tongues (rather synonymous with baptism of the Holy Spirit in the A/G) and though I felt filled with God and His peace, I received no tongues. I continued praying at the altar, when my pastor came up to me and asked me if I was OK. I said "yes, I haven't felt this peace in a long time." He asked me if I was praying for the gift of tongues, and I said yes, though I wasn't actually showing any evidence of having received it. He then asked me to make more room at the altar for other people. I moved away from the altar and went back to my seat, unsure of what exactly had happened. Repeatedly, I prayed for tongues over the course of my teenage years and never got a darn thing. The only positive reinforcement I got was from a youth leader who told me that God told her to just wait for my time, that it would come one day. Other than that, I was just another person taking up space at the altar.

This, along with the ultra-conservative position of my church, is why I've come to dislike it. Its teachings go against the things that Christ has taught, that loving people intentionally regardless of who they are is more important than political agendas and the gift of tongues. For the longest time, I've wanted to be a part of a church who loved without agendas or conditions. That's how Christ loves: unconditionally. I'm tired of asking to speak in tongues. I'm tired of hearing about how President Bush is a great president. I'm tired of being told how loving Christ is when the church isn't showing it. I want to love as Christ does. I want to go into the world and tell them of God, instead of telling them to come to church all the time.

And yet, when have I done this? When I have I ever lived missionally? When have I ever done something to help the poor, the hungry, the hopeless? When have I ever reclaimed an abandoned area of the empire, or taken the time to feed the hungry, give shelter to the homeless, or visit the lonely? When did I move away from what my church raised me to be? I see the need to, and I want to accomplish that need, but when will I get up off the couch, stop reading about it for awhile, and do it?

When will I stop being a hypocrite?

Some of you will read this and think "wow, way to throw a hissy fit. Grow up." To you, I hope you see what I'm trying to say and go live as Christ would have you live. Some of you will be inspired to take action. God bless you. And some of you will skim this and just see me taking pot shots at the A/G. To you, go back and read the whole thing. It'll make more sense then.

What is it about me that makes me so discontented with injustice in this world? Why do I cry for every broken heart, when I know I can't help them all?

I want so badly to help them all. To pour into their lives and let them know that they truly are loved. Every last reject. Every last outcast. Every last person who was put out by the world, who no one wants anymore.

I want to help them so badly, and I can't understand why no one else wants to do that. Isn't that what we're called to? To show love?


Why won't anyone else show love?

I really don't know what is gonna come out here, but I haven't written here for some time now. I recall promising a series of publishing on the heart of worship, but the Internet situation at Creation prevented such a thing, and, frankly, I'm still discovering what it is to worship the Lord with your heart.

I head back to Valley Forge Christian College in a matter of 2 days (today doesn't count; it's about over anyway). I'm curious as to what to expect. After all, what has this summer done to me as a person? I'm certainly different. The growing pains and stretches I have to show from spiritual movement clearly demonstrate unto me that I have come a long way in my pursuit of God, but is it all an illusion? Perhaps my own mind has fathomed and invented such a delusion that I do indeed dwell in God's presence daily, that, in reality, I am no more spiritually mature than the young person who converted at Youth Convention. I did spend a great deal of my time working, sort of placing myself in a bubble and not spending much time with my friends here (though I did when I could). Though I didn't visit church, I spent frequent time with God, praying, reading the word or reading interpretations of his word, and thus learned more about Him that way. I sought to make my every action one of the Lord, and though I did stumble and fall in some places, I can only write that off as simply being human.

Yet, something still bothers me. On another blog, I wrote about how I longed for the romantic love of a woman, but how I struggled to focus wholly on the Lord and allow him to fill the void there. He certainly did do that, but I found myself stumbling repeatedly. My past actions with women and my constant pursuit of them haunted me, making me desire them all the more. Even as I sit in my local cafe typing this, a pretty girl a few tables over catches my eye. All I can do is remark that God is a wonderful creator of beautiful works, but my flesh longs to do more. Yes, I sound like a pervert, but anyone daring to be critical of such a thing ought to examine how they feel when they see an attractive member of the opposite sex enter the room. I am not alone in this struggle. How is it that a man can cut lust out of their lives to the point where he finally stops defining a girl as a "that" instead of as a person? I relate to Paul having the thorn in his side. I just feel like this is more than a thorn; more like a vicious monster I know I can't control that threatens to consume me, and yet which remains chained to me and never at a distance, a mirror image of what I never want to be again. It taunts me, ridicules me. And yes, God is for me, and no one can be against me, but it sure can put up a fight.

I'm getting weaker.