Know Me

Regardless of how much easier it might seem for you…

I am not the sum of nor am I defined by what I’ve done.
I am not confined to the implications you assign to what I’ve said.
I am not concerned with my appearance—how you see me.
I am not responsible for maintaining your good feelings.
I am not limited to your experience with me.
I am not conscripted to only the things I’ve promised.
I am not beholden to you.
I am not inconsistent.
I am not predictable.
I am not controllable.
I AM God.

“...everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ and become one with him. I no longer count on my own righteousness through obeying the law; rather, I become righteous through faith in Christ. For God’s way of making us right with himself depends on faith.” - Paul

Aloysius Snuffleupagus

I very much enjoy the writings of Donald Miller. I am proud to be one of the few people who actually bought Searching for God Knows What and Through Painted Deserts (yes, he has written quite a bit since Blue Like Jazz). Last week I finished reading his newest book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.

I know this girl (we’ll call her Big Bird) who used to constantly talk about her “friend,” (we’ll call her Snuffleupagus). Snuffy was Big Bird’s roommate. But, every time we went to visit Bird, Snuffy wasn’t home. Big Bird would regale us with wonderful tales of misadventure and mayhem involving herself and Snuffleupagus. But, alas, Snuffy never materialized. Eventually, there were photos on the wall of the notorious (yet ever illusive) Snuffleupagus. Photoshop magic? We began to wonder if “Snuffy” was really just Big Bird’s alter ego. One evening we attended a party, of sorts, at Big Bird’s house and, low and behold, there was Snuffleupagus (or at least the actor hired to play her to throw us off the trail). She hung around for 20 minutes or so and then vanished. That was a few years ago. We’ve not seen her since.

I know this guy (we’ll call him Gordon) with whom I lunch from time to time. Last week, over Asian food, we started discussing life and faith. The conversation went something like this (I will undoubtedly embellish. That is a writer’s prerogative, you understand.)

Gordon: Growing up, I was always taught that the most important thing a Christian is to do is make more Christians. But, how can I convince someone else of something if I have so many unanswered questions about it myself?

Me: Like what? What do you mean?

Gordon: Imagine you’ve grown up being taught that all of the answers to life's questions and everything you ever need to know about God can be found in this book. The book tells you how much God loves you and cares for you. Then, as an adult you start to look into this book, where it came from, how it came together… you look around at the world you live in and you see all of these inconsistencies. Even things in the book itself don’t seem to always add up. People around you ask you all kinds of questions about your faith, what you believe and why, but your answers often seem to come up short—both for them and for you. What if you are discovering that maybe God isn’t who you thought He was. You’ve had undeniable experiences with Him, but you don’t know how they fit into your understanding of who He is.

Me: Academically speaking, the Bible is a loose collection of writings spanning hundreds of years, removed from their original context, translated, organized and distributed by believers in Jehovah; followers of Jesus, the Christ. Whatever you believe about it from there, know and understand the limitations, apart from Divine insight, we most definitely have in understanding the intent and context of each writer. Would it really represent a compromise to who God is for one writer in one time and place to have one experience with Him and yet another to have a different understanding? The story of the three blind men describing an elephant comes to mind.

Gordon: Yeah, I get that. But where does that leave me? Then there is the whole,” if God is so loving, why is there so much tragedy and suffering in the world?” argument. Where are the biblical answers to that? If I can’t find God there, where do I find Him?

Me: Exactly. That is exactly my point. You have to stop trying to find God IN the Bible and start letting God speak to you through it. The Bible isn’t merely a means to knowing God. You can acquire an exhaustive knowlege of the Bible and still not know God. I had a professor in college who had a master’s degree in biblical studies. He knew more about scripture than I did but didn’t believe in God at all. He had only pursued the degree because of his fascination with the Bible as literature. Literary understanding of a book won’t connect you to God. Hermeneutically reconciling any contradictions between accounts by various biblical authors is not the secret to knowing God. I do, however, believe the Bible is the principle of quite a few different ways God can speak to us. It is also a good way for us to get caught up on this grander story—who He has been and wants to be in relationship to humanity; to creation.

Would you believe me if I told you I knew the author, Donald Miller?

Gordon: Probably. You haven’t given me any reason to believe you would lie to me.

Me: Okay, so you would believe me based on the nature of my character as you know it. Fine. Good, in fact… thank you for that. But, say you had doubts. What would it take for me to convince you that I know Donald Miller? Keep in mind, I’m very familiar with his writings. I’m his social networking “friend.” I could share with you life stories and personal information regarding Donald’s likes, dislikes, childhood struggles and hang-ups. On my facebook page, you can see a recent photo of the two of us (his arm around my shoulder). I can even show you words written to me in his own hand.[1] Would that be enough for you?

Gordon: Probably not.

Me: So, what would it take? What would you need to believe that I knew Donald Miller?

Gordon: Well, I guess I would have to see the two of you together.

Me: There you go. God isn’t asking us to convince anyone that He is. We can’t. What’s to keep thinking people from concluding God is just an elaborate myth if all you have to show for Him are artifacts, stories and organizations? But what if they saw us together? What if they met my friend, God, instead of my book or my church or my empirical evidence? What would that look like? What would that be like? Suddenly, it is God’s responsibility to prove that He is (something He is certainly capable of doing with or without me). But, it is my responsibility to know Him and to make our friendship public. I’m not talking about TBN, here. I’m talking about friendship, not salesmanship. Besides, we are charged to “go and make disciples”—not “new converts.”

My most recent faith struggle is not one of intellect. I don’t really do that anymore… Sooner or later you just figure out there are some guys who don’t believe in God and they can prove He doesn’t exist, and some other guys who do believe in God and they can prove He does exist, and the argument stopped being about God a long time ago and now it’s about who is smarter, and honestly I don’t care.[2]

Right now, Snuffleupagus is featured in Big Bird’s facebook profile photo. I recognize her. I’ve met her, but I don’t know her. It is unlikely that anyone will ever see me and Snuffy together. She is Big Bird’s friend, not mine. While I am sure she is a wonderful person, I have no real desire to call up Big Bird and get Snuffy’s contact information. I don’t imagine my wife and I will be inviting her to dinner any time soon. You see, Snuffleupagus hasn’t really been a part of our relationship with Big Bird.

I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn’t resolve. But I was outside the Bagdad Theater in Portland one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes.

After that I liked jazz music.

Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way.

I used to not like God because God didn’t resolve. But that was before any of this happened.[ibid.]

By the way, God says "hi."

1. All of this is true, though not what it seems (or as creepy as it sounds). I read his blog. He autographed my copy of A Million Miles and I took a photo with him at the book signing.

2. Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality (Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2003)

Onan the Barbarian

I was hiking and talking with a friend the other day. He said something about faith community pleasuring itself. Yep, you read that correctly. He used the term masturbation to describe the selfishness of some Christian communities. Any attempt on my part to recapture his point here would be inadequate. I won’t try. Even so, while it was clear he was referring to the idea of masturbation, not the literal act, the negative connotation was still conspicuous and intentional. Curious, since the Bible says nothing directly about the issue. Many, however, feel it does make strong inference.

In his letter to the Corinthian church, Paul lists a number of people (by the activities in which they engage) who will not “inherit the Kingdom of God.” Included in the list is the ancient Greek word “malakoi” which seems to have been understood by many early Christians as a person with “soft morals.” The 1611 translation of the Bible into English interprets the word as “effeminate” (a weak man). By Martin Luther’s day, the popular translation for the word was “masturbators.” In fact, as late as 1967, this designation still appeared in the Catholic Encyclopedia. The more recent Bible translations assign a reference to same-sex acts.

In Genesis 38, the author writes of Judah and his three sons; Er, Onan, and Shelah. Er married a woman named Tamar but, because he was wicked, God killed him before an heir could be conceived. Judah told Onan to “lie with your brother's wife and fulfill your duty to her as a brother-in-law to produce offspring for your brother.” [1] But Onan knew that the kid wouldn’t be his and, every time he slept with Tamar, withdrew and “spilled his seed.” This was equally as wicked in God’s sight, so Onan was put to death as well. (Who says the Bible is boring? This is made for TV, movie of the week stuff right here.)

Theologians have taken many different perspectives on Onan’s deadly mistake. Some advocate that it was Onan’s disobedience to his father that provided the offense. Other interpretations have led to the creation of the term onanism. Often a euphemism for coitus interruptus, the term intimates that it was Onan’s selfish intentions God found so detestable. Onanism is also used as moniker for the act of masturbation, implying that Onan was just using the sex act for personal pleasure, not procreative purpose. Since the middle ages, the Roman Catholic Church (and others) have used these interpretations to take a moral stand against masturbation, coitus interruptus, and even contraception. (Though, if, indeed, fiddling with your own equipment irrevocably leads to eternal damnation, I suspect there will be few post adolescent men in heaven. Just sayin’…)

But, is the point of this little story to give us another entry into our list of moral DOs and DON’Ts? Is that the purpose of Paul’s list of mortal sins?

I’m not taking a stand here on what acts, in and of themselves, are sinful in God’s sight. I’ll leave that between you and Him. But, I do wonder if these passages aren’t much more clear in point than the credit church history has given them. They seem to me to be saying, quite simply…

• know why you are doing what you’re doing
• know for whom you are doing what you’re doing
• be prepared to face the consequences of your intentions and focus

Our choices and actions are important. But, in the end, if you have a growing, living relationship with Christ, “why” and “for whom” you choose and/or act, not just how, tend to be the factors that will either commend or condemn. These things define us both apart from and in conjunction with what we do. As people of faith—lovers of God, what we do is, well... what we do (though, in my opinion, the things many people do in the name of God are ludicrous). Why and for whom we do are far more significant criteria in determining who we are. Contrary to what Christian book store bracelet-theology may espouse, ultimately, I wonder if what Jesus would do is all that doctrinally definitive or even consistent. If we were motivated by His “WHYs” and focused on His “WHOs,” “what” we are supposed to be doing and/or not doing might become more clear… or, dare I say, maybe less important.

For example, in Onan's case, his focus was keeping the inheritance for himself and his own. Oops! I said I would refrain from making my friend’s point.


Footnote

1. HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION. Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society.

Baby, Please Don't Go

I closely follow several personal blogs (and loosely keep up with a few others.) I specify "personal" because I also follow a couple of authors' blogs and an outdoor adventure information forum. For the few personal blogs I regularly follow, it has been a slow couple of months. Since mid June, a cumulative ten entries have been posted by seven of the web writers; two of them haven't posted at all. In fact, if you examine this page, you will notice a gap in my own entries-- nothing whatsoever in July. So, what's up? Is it a summer lull? Have we all run out of things to say?

Yesterday, I read an article by Carolyn Duffy Marsan, Business Week, titled, "12 Words You Can Never Say in the Office." It was a list of words and "phrases that you shouldn't be using at work anymore because they will make you seem old." Terms like: Intranet, Web Surfing, Push Technology, Long-Distance Call, World Wide Web, Personal Digital Assistant (PDA), or Internet Telephony. Among them was the word "weblog" with the following explanation...

A blog is a shortened version of "Weblog," a term that emerged in the late 1990s to describe commentary that an individual publishes online. It spawned many words still in use such as "blogger" and "blogosphere." Nowadays, few people have time to blog so they are "microblogging," which is another word that's heading out the door as people turn Twitter into a generic term for blasting out 140-character observations or opinions.

I'll admit, I gave in to the whole Twitter thing last December. While I recognize (and have even exercised) some of its unique benefits, on the whole, I find it extremely tedious. If anyone is actually that interested in what I'm doing every waking minute of the day, they really need to get out more (either that, or I need to look into getting that restraining order). The truth is, I find it difficult to really sink my teeth into a statement like "working on a Sunday! ... story of my life." or "Just watched first 2 Hours of transformers 2. Didn't download all i missed the ending." I read one tweet recently that simply said, "trying to think of what I'm doing so i can post a twitter about it." I understand his sentiment.

I often find myself staring blankly at standing prompts like Twitter's "what are you doing?" or Facebook's "what's on your mind?" I could waste a lot of time trying to come up with something, ANYTHING remotely pithy with which to fill the box-- congeniality and intrigue in 140 characters or less. Contrary to popular belief, I don't always have something to say. In fact, I spend the largest portion of each day working entirely alone not saying anything at all. I don't usually mind it one bit. I draw energy from solitude. Yesterday, for lunch, I drove up to a generally deserted hiking trail in the national forest and just sat on a rock reading and taking photos. But, when I do speak or write or, in some other way, communicate, it generally has the full force of all my alone time behind it. Sometimes conversation, for me, is a release of that pent up raw energy. (One more reason never to ask me a question.) Writing is a refocusing of that energy and, often, my preferred outlet. But writing, though cathartic, is not communication without a reader. [Enter: the blogosphere]

So, bloggers, let's refocus some of that summer energy. I love our silent conversations. I love discovering life with and learning from you. Let the rest of the world "tweet" away. We both know we've more substance than that.

Red Light District

Remarkable how simple choices, when they find their effect
Can choke out the voice.
Not that there is nothing to say
Or even that it is or isn't being said;
Rather that the carrier, by reputation
Inspires a preemptive disqualification of the message.
Robbing others of the treasure within
By careless transport.

More tragic still, as a matter of convention
Others cheat themselves by premature defense—
O, malicious mishap.
Perhaps brilliance buried is best left covered.
For brilliance, free to shine
Is wontedly passed over for its tariff
Its pretension
Its peculiarity.
After all, it is more satisfying
To admire the jewel on one's own hand
Than on the hand of another.

As for me, I am strangled;
Silenced by witness
To my own once passionate acuity turning, as a matter of course
To platitude— three dimensions distilled to one.
Even so, it's more difficult than I imagined
To give up a life of prostitution.