The Normal Questions?

Today I mourn.

A very good friend of mine passed away this morning. To my understanding, about a year ago he was diagnosed with cancer, and it had very rapidly progressed since. On Thursday I found out he was going home with Hospice, so I knew I was just waiting. This morning, he was what we call in The Salvation Army "promoted to Glory". And I know that my friend Ray has no more suffering, no more pain, no more disease, and is with his Lord and Savior, rejoicing in fellowship.

But today, I mourn.

And primarily because of his passing, which is understandable. But I also mourn the fact that I'm now dealing with issues of faith that seem to me to be almost irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, but incredibly integral to the way that I interact with other Christians in this setting. For the past year, hundreds of people were praying that Ray would experience miraculous healing. I saw phrases like,

We pray that God will give you healing and comfort. ....and....
I pray for you every day, and I know God will bless you because of how much you've blessed me. ...and.....
We love you. Know that we're praying for a fast recovery and we believe God will give it to you.

and other notes of encouragement to the believers that if we pray enough and with fervor, somehow he would get better. And it angers me to think that these people would spiritualize the situation so much that they forget the reality. And the reality is that God sometimes answers prayers with a "no". Now, I'm not looking for a debate on this. I realize that there are key aspects to having faith that I'm not acknowledging. But I'm not addressing that now. We can talk about that later.

The other thing is reminiscent of the fact that literally hundreds of people were praying for Ray to get better. And even though we know that he's in a better place, without the distress that he ended his life in, and he gets to experience the glory that most of us are longing for - - - I have to ask why? So many of us wanted Ray to get better. And we reconcile his passing with "Well, God wanted him there with Him." Does that mean that God was selfish? I want to be selfish! I know that heaven is better for Ray than here, but I want Ray back. I feel like if Ray were at his best here on earth, if he had gotten a miraculous healing, that he could have accomplished so much more. Why couldn't God give him back to us? Why didn't God let him do more for Him? And if God really wanted him so much....can't He understand that we want him that much too?

I write this in an attempt to have a bit of catharsis, because I'm tired of crying. I've cried small tears for weeks, and much more today. This is only the tip of the iceberg of what I'm feeling, and the things that I'm asking. I wish that you all could have met Ray. He was a great guy... the kind that you never forget, nor want to. I loved him. He was an example and an encourager to me, and I shall miss him dearly. And I pray for Ray's wife and son, and I ask that you do the same. I don't expect answers to these questions. If you have insight, feel free, as usual, to share it. But keep in mind the community that is mourning and questioning. We lean on our God, because we know that He will never leave or forsake us. Just like He was always with Ray.

Seasonal Shift

I hear people say that there is a season for everything. Yes, yes, I know that's true. But for someone who likes schedules and control, and for whom change is especially difficult to overcome, moving from one season to another tends to send me into a bit of an uproar.

My parents are moving to another state while I'm traveling with work this summer. It's not that I'm upset about this, because being away at school 9 months out of the year means that it doesn't affect me too much. But the idea of not being able to go back is strange. I doubt that there's anyone that I'll miss too much, or places that I wish could transfer over, but the concept of leaving it all behind still bothers me. And the fact that I will not need or be able to settle in this new place is also a little disconcerting.

My social circles at school are changing. I've seen people leave and I watch new people coming in. It's not bad. Just different. But different is hard for me, especially with relationships. I think I've placed too much emphasis on them, but at the same time, I feel that if I cut off from them, I'm becoming too distant. Do I have that happy medium?

So here's my thought. If God provides a season for everything, He must also provide the transitory period between them, right? How does one search that out? Other than merely asking for it, what does one focus on through Bible study and fellowship and meditation and things like that on how to adapt from one season to the next? I know that trust is the first thing. So, the trust is being put there. The attempts at surrender for the sake of being kept are being made. What else can I do, and how can I change?

Gut-wrencher

You ever get that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you know you're supposed to do one thing, especially if it's to set an example for someone else, and you've just gotten through doing the exact opposite? And not only do you get that condemnation for not doing what you ought, but you also feel that conviction in your spirit, so your whole torso gets that twisting, tightening, gut-wrenching feeling. You know?

Yeah, me neither.

Lies. I had that entire thing yesterday. The topic of teen night was one that I had been wrestling with only a few days before, and had been soundly defeated. And despite the wrestling that I had done since with learning how to be forgiven and how to overcome this thing that was weighing me down, I still felt like it surrounded me. This sin was still holding me in bondage, it felt. And I sat there, talking to these young teens about this very sin, and how important it was to overcome it, and I didn't think that it was possible for me.

I compare this sin to the things that I want in life, because while I continue in it, I can't have what I want. I compare what I know to be right with what I want to have happen. I compare the things that I've resolved to strive for with the things that I've resorted to accepting. And I'm disappointed. And I'm dejected. And I despair in who I am. And this is where the condemnation vs. the conviction can become a trap. Condemnation is bad, conviction is good. However, the devil can use your feelings of conviction and turn that into feelings of condemnation if he knows you're vulnerable to it. And that's where I find myself.

I know who I am, and I know who I am to become. I know what price was paid for me, and I know what I need to do and change in order to fulfill the promise that accompanies my life. But I know that I mess up, like any other human being. As much as I try, and as much as I tell myself over and over what it is that I want, believing and striving for that righteousness of Christ, I still fall into sin. It happens. I gotta learn from it and move on. And that's difficult; it's hard to change your lifestyle and your mindsets. I can't let the fact that it's difficult send me into a despair that it won't be accomplished. I'm strengthened to overcome; no temptation is too difficult to disregard. I can do it. And even if not for myself, solely to set an example so that the teens that I was so embarrassed to sit in front of last night may not have to experience that same gut-wrenching feeling.

Knowledgable Hypocrisy

While talking with a friend of mine, she compared Christians with politics. The comparison wasn't favorable despite the fact that she's a Christian herself. However, she's come across an unappealing view of Christians one too many times. I think we can all agree that Christians aren't perfect and never appear to be, but when hypocrisy comes across as the overarching description, then the viewer has every right to feel jaded.
Basically, the main complaint she held was that especially when it comes to service-oriented work or Christian-based employers, all that's needed to gain favor is to say the right thing. Never mind being honest and sharing your opinion, just use the right language and you're in. Once you've got the position, you can do whatever you want, and as another friend of mine chimed in, no one will care whether your actions are right or not, as long as it looks good. Like politicians.
Hypocrisy is wrong. It shows a lack of integrity and character. And for the good guys who hold on to their standards and continually act on their own conscience and belief systems, they see the things in life that they desire go flying by and given to the ones who fake it. And they get hurt and mad and feel gypped. And let's face it, they are.
But let's face another truth: it's not going to change. You're always going to run into people who lie and cheat and steal in order to make it to the top. It's part of life; it's part of humanity. And even though these are 'Christians' who should know better than to be hypocritical and who should act accordingly, quite often it's easier or more beneficial to say the right thing and do what you want.
Here's the question that is necessary for everyone to ask of themselves. Can the hypocrisy be helped? Is it on purpose? "Oh, no! Of course not! I'd never choose to be hypocritical." No, I don't suppose you would. But are the answers given and the face shown to others portrayed because it's right? Or because it's you? Maybe you know the answer, you comprehend all of the intricacies of the information, and you can regurgitate it to look good in front of someone else. But when it comes to your actions, your speech, the way you treat others - is the same information coming out? It comes from the heart, so are the right answers heart knowledge too, or merely head knowledge? Even if we're 'the good guys', is there something that we're doing that's just as hypocritical because our knowledge hasn't transfered from head to heart? Ask yourself.

Days Off

"Do not throw away this confident trust in the Lord, no matter what happens. Remember the great reward it brings you! Patient endurance is what you need now, so you will continue to do God's will. Then you will receive all that he has promised." - Hebrews 10:35-36 NLT

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up..." - Galatians 6:9

As a college student, I'm more than accustomed to skipping a class, especially at 8 in the morning, if I don't feel up to going to it. I think the idea of an emotional health day, as ridiculous as some may call it, is one of the most ingenious phrases a man ever coined. When we feel like we've had enough of something, we give up and either take a break for a bit or move on to something else. It's like we have this constant desire for a change. No matter how much we like structure and schedules and habits, no one likes monotony. Especially if it involves effort.

I learned in a class last week about a "bliss point", the optimal point in any task where we get the most reward from the least effort. And no matter what the ratio is, we would rather put in less effort to get less reward than more effort to get more reward, and stay as close to our bliss point as possible.

We do this with Christianity. We get to the point where we're tired of doing the same thing time after time, tired of the effort that we put into it to receive what we perceive as minimal reward. We get this mindset that it's okay to take a day off from our faith...we don't have to work as hard today because we deserve some time to just settle. We don't overcome this obstacle with stronger faith and more prayer and an increase in Bible reading, but we rationalize that we won't lose our faith by taking the day off from trying so hard. Jesus will still love us, right?

Yes, He will.
He may not like the fact that we're giving up so easily, as seen in the above Bible verses. But He'll still love us. We're still Christians.

I know it's hard to continually put all of ourselves into something, even something that gives back, like our faith in Christ. And there are always going to be days when we don't want to keep going: we just want to take a break, a day off, or we just want to receive the reward without putting in so much effort. But we can keep going. We can handle it. We've been promised not only the continual presence and love of our God, but a great inheritance to be received. And we'll get it. We're assured of it.

"The permanence of God's character guarantees the fulfillment of his promises." - Arthur W. Pink

Value of Identity

I've come to be quite fond of this blogging assignment, if solely for the fact that it provides me an excuse to come to the coffee shop once a week and indulge my caffeine addiction. I feel like I'm fitting into the whole coffeehouse stereotype, sipping my medium Peruvian coffee with cream and sugar (boring order today) while reflecting on my life and accomplishing something of purpose.

We all like to fit into something. Whether it be a group of people, or a label/title of some sort, or even to just blend into the background of a certain place, there is a part of us all that enjoys identifying ourselves with something or someone. We want to feel accepted. We want to feel like we belong. Not that we're trying to give up a sense of personal identity, but we want to know that our identity has a meaning, has an agreeableness to it that unites us with fellow human beings. Even nonconformists, the ones who go out of their way to prove that they are not like others, find their niche somewhere. They still have friends, they still have that camaraderie with other where they have decided to stand up to stereotypes or social expectations. No one is truly unique in the sense that no one else thinks or acts like they do. And although that statement seems a bit tragic, I think that we all take comfort in the fact that our need for social interaction and fellowship can be met at any point, within a wide variety of groups.

I can identify myself quite easily with a radical international group that is devoted to social justice and change. We're quite the sight, you know. We dress funny, all in a uniform fashion, looking quite uncomfortable and ready to take on an unseen enemy, seemingly militaristic, if you will. We go out into our neighborhoods, and sometimes overseas, talking to anyone who will listen about the way that we've come to identify ourselves with this group, and all of the reasons why you too can be a part of this group. We promise that you'll be loved, that you'll be accepted, that life will somehow be intrinsically better, and maybe you can even have this cool-looking outfit! We proselytize as much as we can, having recently adopted a new slogan in Come Join Our Army! We encourage membership, sometimes even blindly so. We sometimes target youth, in the hopes that their open minds and believing spirits will keep them joined to us as they grow. Catch them while they're young, right? We also go after the vulnerable people, the ones who seem to need the most reassurance of personal value. When we meet, we sing songs that only members know, we sit and stand at request, and we take a lot of what our leader says without question, trusting in the sacred book that he reads from.

Sounds like a cult, right? Sounds like something that only a fool could adhere to. No one with a right mind and sound judgment would fall for something so blatantly conniving. Well, The Salvation Army isn't a cult (no matter what some people tell you). We're part of the Christian church, not just a thrift store. We believe in the Bible as the Word of God, the doctrine of the Trinity, salvation through faith, justification and sanctification, the dual divinity and humanity of Christ, heaven and hell. We wear a uniform to set ourselves apart, making us easily recognizable and encouraging questions in order that we can share our faith. We outreach so fervently because we believe that everyone has access to the saving grace of Jesus Christ, and we want as many people as possible to know His love and grace, so we go out and preach it to whoever will listen.

Now, you can argue with me all you want that the way the Army goes about ministry is wrong, that the Army has some screwed up beliefs systems, that there is no God, and that such radical ideals give Christianity a bad name, whatever. But I get a sense of personal value from identifying myself as a child of God, as a prized daughter of the Almighty who He loves and cherishes, protects and for whom He provides. And not only that, but the Army also provides me with a sense of identity. I fit in to a large body of believers who share my faith. I can walk into any Army meeting hall wearing my uniform and be instantly accepted. We share a bloodline. My brothers and sisters in Christ welcome me in to their lives as Christ would Himself.

A sense of identity can come from many things. Whatever you belong to, the people around you can make you feel like you're worth something. But unless you know the value that is ascribed to you by your Heavenly Father, the Creator who made you with all of your features and talents and who loves you to no end, unless that worth is felt from Him to whom you belong, then what good is any other social identity? And if the Christian church, in any and all of its aspects, isn't perpetrating the Truth of personal value found in the personal relationship with God, if we're not showing the love of God, then what good are we? I see so many people -myself included - fall into the trap of thinking of themselves as worthless. They go after identity and value in so many things that will end up leaving them empty and longing for more. Christ, in whom we live and move and have our being, is our primary source of self-value. No, it's not always easy to think of yourself as highly regarded, as worthy of something so great as salvation or love. But it's the Truth. It's the rock on which we can lean when we feel like no one else cares; when we feel like we're alone and without any purpose. No value. That's where we can remind ourselves of our Father's love, and how He thinks we're awesome. And that's especially where we need to spread the information of the existence of that identity to those who don't know it's there for them. Make sense?

Mission: Myself.

First of all, I laugh at the horrendously pathetic attempts I make to use alliteration in my titles. How cheesy. =P Okay, on to business.

Sometimes I wonder where the line is to be drawn between the selfishness of wanting to hear from God while doing His work and the reality that God speaks to the minister as well as those to whom ministry is being done. The Salvation Army Student Fellowship on campus has their annual Missions Trip coming up. We leave this coming Friday and are going to be in the southwest Ohio region until next Sunday. This is a very exciting trip for me, because I used to live down there, and I look forward to returning for a brief visit to familiar areas. But we're also going to be working with teens and helping with praise and worship for meetings, which are two of my favorite things to do in the church, so my excitement level is raised all the more.

However, with the number of people going, and the lack of difficulty in our tasks this coming week, I find myself wondering why I'm going. It's not like I made a conscious decision to go: I'd had planned all along to go and it really wasn't a decision for me to make; I was just going. My specific tasks on this trip aren't anything special. I'm leading a few songs, singing with the band, moderating a game or two, and giving a testimony. Simple, right? And easily covered should I become incapacitated for some reason or another. So, what's my purpose for going? I'm not needed. It's not imperative that I go along. So, why am I?

I'm not thinking of backing out. I still want to go. It should be fun, and I don't serve people enough in my life, so I'm hoping that this gets me into a habit of offering my time and talents to others. I also want to get something out of this trip. I want something for me. I want to hear God speak to me, give me some direction, urge me to grow through something specific. I almost want that more than I want to serve. Is it wrong to be so selfish about a missions trip? Everybody I've ever met that's gone overseas on a missions trip talks about how their own lives were changed while they thought they were going to change the lives of others... am I allowed to want that even before I leave?

It's taking a great deal of attention to not become self-centered about this trip. I don't want to view this as a mini-homecoming for myself. I don't want to get caught up in the trap of "I've been in the Army all my life, and I know how things operate, so I'm better at this than you." Unfortunately, I've done that before. It doesn't get me any friends, I'll tell you that much. I don't want to get all pout-y because I'm not the center of attention. Because honestly, one of my biggest faults is that I have real problems with favoritism when it's not directed towards me. But I don't want my focus to be on what I'm going to learn, either. Somehow I feel that that's selfish, too; that it distracts me from the work that I will be doing.

So how much of this desire for myself is valid? How much of it am I allowed to indulge in without feeling like I've turned an opportunity to serve the Lord into an act of self-idolatry? And most importantly, how can I focus my attention where it needs to be, changing my thoughts so that I can be of the utmost use where God chooses? I don't know that I have anything to offer these adults and youth groups that we'll be working with. And with my current mindset, I don't know if anything that I could potentially give is going to be worth anything. It's not that I'm pessimistic about being used. I honestly don't know if I'm in the right frame of mind to be utilized. Got any idea?

Silence Sings

I'm in silence. I woke up on Saturday without a voice. I hadn't been screaming, I hadn't been singing too much, and there was nothing I could do to stop the cold that suddenly pounced on me from taking my voice. There is no rapid cure for laryngitis, no matter what the cause. In the meantime, I do what I can, drinking more tea than is healthy for the average college student, enough water to match, and talking with as much force as I can, since I'm told that whispering is about the worst thing I could do. I'm sitting in the coffee shop as I type, with a rapidly cooling cup of tea to my left, mocking me as if it knows that I have no choice but to drink up. I am so sick of tea right now.
Probably the best thing for me would be to take a few naps in a day, but being a college student, life gets busy quickly, and as of late, that has not been a viable option. My friends try to help by telling me to shut up in order to get my voice back faster, but there's a sneaking suspicion in me that there's an ulterior motive behind each demand. It's not easy for me to be quiet; I'm a verbal person by nature. I love to talk, and I rely on my speech to effectively communicate. I don't really know any other way. And it doesn't help that I've had to lead class discussions in the meantime.
So, when this happens at any other point in time, I end up being a state of self-reflection, attempting to garner some kind of spiritual lesson out of it for myself, because obviously, God speaks through everything, right? Usually, the conclusion that I come to is that God just wants me to shut up and listen. To Him, to others, and just take the focus off of myself. That in-and-of itself is a difficult task, but especially when you're sick and you need to focus on your own wellbeing. But I would try, constantly reminding myself to change my focus, to look at someone else or try to feel the Spirit.
Confession: I come from a traditional church background and have always been skeptical of charismatic churches, not for their theology, but because the people that I've met from them give me an overall sense of distrust. I'm sure I'll talk more about at some point later. I say that to provide a sense of understanding for my next 'radical' statement: I don't feel the Spirit.
Now, let me explain. I'm not saying that I've never known God's presence or I've never felt the moving of God speaking to me. I have, just not often. And when I take the time to sit and purposely yearn and look for the Lord, He doesn't seem to want to show up. He likes to catch me off-guard. I'm getting better at the discipline of being still and meditating. But at the moment, it is the times when I've decided to shut up and listen that I don't hear a thing.
So here's my controversial point. God doesn't always speak. God gives us common sense and the ability and blessing of literacy so that we learn and know things about Him that stay with us. God's portable! We don't have to wait and ask to meet with Him and have Him speak with us. He speaks and expects us to listen, or at leasts allows it to wait and take time to sink in for those moments when we actually pause our lives. Sometimes He lets us do it ourselves. So God didn't take away my voice so that I'll listen to Him more intently. I'm sick. It happens. And if I'm really ready to do some soul-searching, I'm sure I've got a huge stockpile of things to dwell on that He's told me beforehand.
Okay, maybe that's not so controversial after all.

The Pathos Pulpit

Jay Heinrichs, author of Thank You for Arguing, is a sarcastic cynic at best and a rhetorician at worst, which is probably why I liked to read him so much. I'm currently taking a class that is focusing at the moment primarily on rhetoric and persuasion, and Heinrichs was the first author we read. On the whole, my class agreed that his tips for successful persuasion and the concepts that he introduced tended more toward manipulation; propaganda, if you will, than persuasion. He said that it was more important for an argument to win than understanding one's audience and their concerns, their opinions, their questions, and how they view you. His ethics seem to be questionable, but his strategies are definitely ones that work. I suppose one could argue means to an end.
However, with all of the talk concerning public speaking and politics and persuasion, the back of my mind kept hounding me about another venue where rhetoric can be used...the pulpit. How often do the leaders of the church apply the principles of rhetoric from the pulpit? Principles like:

code grooming: using insider language to build group identity - "Christianese" in this case

pathos: argument by pure emotion - the 'hellfire awaits, save your soul now' approach popularly used by televangelists

ethos: the credibility of the speaker - is the mega-church pastor more holy or does he know more about the Scriptures than the pastor of the small church on the back road?

turning the volume up: adding little things to your argument to make it seem bigger than it is, larger than life - Can I get an Amen?!

Now, being in front of an audience means that your normal speech is adapted. And the principles of rhetoric do not have to be used without ethics, as Heinrichs may advocate. However, does the Church fall into the trap of using manipulative maneuvers from the pulpit, twisting the meaning of the Scriptures or using language to pull on the heartstrings of the congregation instead of the Spirit, instead of approaching the fellowship of the Church with a humble integrity and honesty with each other?
I've grown up in small congregations as part of a larger conglomerate of a church that spans nation and worldwide. I've had only three pastors in my life, and the most recent two have only been in the last three years. I hold them all in respectable positions, and probably apply the fundamental attribution error to each of them, saying that I don't see them conform to this misuse of rhetoric, and if they do, it can't be their fault.
But given my lack of experience in other church settings, I wonder if other churches and their pastors use any of this? Youth rallies will tend to make use of the pathos, pulling every story and quote they can find to get the teenagers to recognize the pull of the Spirit and come to Christ. But is it authentic? Are they really feeling the Spirit, or is it merely the emotion evoked by the speaker? Or is it both?
My question is, is it right for us to do this? Are we given permission in the Great Commission to save as many souls as possible by whatever means we can? And are the principles of rhetoric, manipulation of words and persuasion of an audience, acceptable to win souls for the Kingdom? I'm not trying to generalize, and I'm not trying to accuse anyone. I'm just asking. I'll be asking a lot. And not answering much. I'll leave that up to you.

Dreams of Accomplishment

It seems that I like to use events in my life and interactions I've had with other people and apply Christian ideals to them to see how well I, and sometimes even the Christian society that I see around me, am living up to them.

Everyday interactions with people, or interactions that I see on campus, can provide a foundation for discussion and debate, no matter what the issue at hand is.

So, yes, the thoughts that are in my head today, but more focused on how Christian values can be applied to everyday situations, and hopefully get some thought-provoking questions in there that potential challenge not only myself, but any readers that come along.