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.

The Poverty Experiment

Lately, I've developed a nagging concern that our children have little appreciation for how blessed we are. Don't get me wrong. They are amazing kids (thoughtful, generous, sensitive to the needs of others...) It's just that they show too many of the normal signs of American entitlement. We all do. So, my wife and I decided to do a little gratitude exercise and live below poverty level for seven days.

The boys got to choose three toys for the week, each of which had to value under $10. There were no computers (except for work), DVDs, gaming systems, etc. After doing some research and a little creative math, we came up with a weekly income (after rent and utilities) reflective of the national poverty level. We ate, fueled our vehicles, purchased incidentals, paid for school field trips (and the like) for just slightly under this magic number. We ate a lot of beans, rice, pasta, etc. and very little meat. We played board games, with playing cards, and sidewalk chalk. We read books available to us through the library.

We didn't widely publicize what we were doing. In fact, only three people knew about it outside of our family. Each family member did, however, keep a nightly journal and, at the request of a friend, I will share my entries for the week here.

Day One- Monday, May 18, 2009

I’ve actually been looking forward to the start of this little exercise for a few days. Shopping for the week was a fun challenge. But, now that the week has officially begun, I’m finding this a bit more of a challenge than I could have anticipated.

For two reasons: First, an unplanned turn in my dental health has made it so that I will be having my wisdom teeth out tomorrow morning. I am a bit nervous and not looking forward to the painful recovery. But, because of this week’s exercise, I’m not sure I will even be able to “shop” for my recovery like I would otherwise. Luckily, we had planned at least a few soft foods into our poverty budget menu. Still, this may prove to be a real challenge.

Fortunately, it seems the procedure is covered by our dental insurance. Yet, it occurs to me, if we really were living below the poverty level, we wouldn’t likely have such insurance. I’m not sure what I would have done if this were the case. My pain level, at present, is barely tolerable. I am extremely thankful for our dental insurance and my wife’s job with the school district.

Second, I have found myself, a surprising number of times today, thinking of things I need to go “pick up” from the store; things like hair conditioner or more plastic spoons for my office. Ordinarily, these thoughts are fleeting and pass without action— but only because I don’t have time or because it’s not worth a trip to the store for such few items. It is never because we just can’t afford these things. I’ve never thought of basic toiletries as luxuries. Sobering.

Day Two- Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Today I had all four of my wisdom teeth removed. They had become impacted and were causing swelling and discomfort. I was told that I would need someone to drive me home because I would be under a general anesthetic.

One of the most striking things I’ve learned about combating the struggles of poverty is the unmistakable importance of community. For those that “have,” independence is the rule of the day. For those who “have not,” interdependence is survival rule #1. My wife had to work today. In fact, most everyone in my “community” was at work today. We have built lives of individuality and semi-independence. Thankfully, a good friend was able to become available during the day (rearranged her obligations) in order to drive me to and from the appointment. Afterward, she was kind enough to purchase a chocolate milkshake for me and then, to purchase (insurance co-pay) and pick-up my post-surgery prescriptions. It is only Tuesday and after purchasing groceries for the week and gasoline for the truck, we are already through more than half of our money for the week. I offered to pay for the shake, the mashed potatoes (another purchase made by our friend on my behalf) and the prescriptions, but she wouldn’t accept. Later, another friend brought me a smoothie from “Juice it Up.” And yet another couple of other friends sent text messages asking if I needed anything. Now, more than ever (and for many reasons), I am thankful for friendships—for community.

Day Three- Wednesday, May 20, 2009

The eating part of this is proving to be more challenging than I imagined it would be. Tonight for dinner, we made tuna casserole. Ordinarily, this is a low budget family favorite. But, I found I couldn’t take more than two or three bites. Chewing is next to impossible. I put my portion back into the pot and proceeded to drink a shake again for dinner just before rushing out to take my oldest son to his all district band concert.

The concert was wonderful. I was duly impressed with the students’ performances at all levels. I was slightly less than impressed with the school board and administration representatives who spoke throughout the concert. I was more aware than ever before of the range of dress clothing worn by the students— everything from jeans and a T-shirt to slacks and black tennis shoes. There were some kids dressed to the nines, but very few who looked as though they had the appropriate attire in their wardrobe. We are so blessed to be able to afford dress slacks, socks, shoes, and shirt for our son.

By the way, this morning, since I was still under the 24 hour mark with the anesthetic and unable to drive, a friend came by and picked up the boys to take them to school. Another above-and-beyond moment in our relationship. And, yet another representation of the wealth and strength found in community.

Day Four- Thursday, May 21, 2009

This morning, I woke up more sore and swollen than yesterday. Not fun.

I read an article today about how it is more expensive to be poor than it is to be wealthy or middle-class. When you can’t afford to shop around for the best price (due to lack of transportation or the cost of time lost utilizing public transportation), you can end up paying quite a bit more for everyday items such as milk or bread. In addition, with limited assets or credit, you may end up having to finance purchases at a much higher interest rate. What a vicious catch 22.

I was getting a little frustrated this evening. I’m not sure, as a family, we are doing so well at the focusing through this exercise. My wife had to sit down and write out what we’ve spent so far to mentally get back on track. It seems she had been using a few items from the pantry that we hadn’t factored into our budget (chips and sunflower seed butter for the little guy’s lunch). My youngest son has been sneaking in play time with more than his three selected toys (under $10).

I think all of us have been challenged in keeping the experiment pure. If I had it to do over again, I think I would have done more physical prep— cleaning out the cupboards, putting away all the toys, etc. Also, I’m sure, at or below poverty level, we would not have a washer and dryer in our home. We probably wouldn’t have a dishwasher either. My oldest son asked today if we were supposed to be using our blender. I’ve had to use our food processor to puree my food (since I can’t chew, at present). I don’t feel like we are cheating, exactly. But, I do feel like we are getting less than the full experience for lack of thorough preparation.

So, it is Thursday night. We have spent nearly 80% of our budget for the week. Three more days to go. One of those days includes a picnic and another a baby shower. I’m on less than a quarter tank of gas. Heaven help us!

Day Five- Friday, May 22, 2009

I am completely over this whole eating mushy foods business. My mouth/face can’t get back to normal fast enough.

I was thinking earlier that it would be nice to just sit and watch a movie tonight. But, alas, no T.V. or D.V.D. in our below-poverty-level household. That’s okay. The truth is, I didn’t really want to watch anything. It’s just that the other, low cost entertainment alternatives all required more effort. Reading, playing a game, etc.—all required more thinking and/or energy.

I really want to adventure outside the house tomorrow (Saturday). The beach, or mountains, or something. I’ve been a little stir crazy stuck around the house the past few days (recovering). But, alas, no gas money and almost an empty tank. Guess more creativity is called for.

Day Six- Saturday, May 23, 2009

Today was a lazy day spent at home. At least for the most part, anyway. Lazy for me is relative. My wife had a baby shower to attend. One of her colleagues from school came by for an hour or so before the shower. My wife has been helping the woman with her professional writing skills.

Though my swelling has decreased over the past few hours, my pain level has only increased. My jaw is extremely sore and contributing to a dull, but constant headache.

While my wife was gone to the baby shower, the boys and I sorted and folded laundry. I made them lunch and introduced them to my wife’s rice pudding. It was a huge hit! Who would have thought the kids would make a new food discovery in all this?

We’ve been playing a lot of “Rummikub” and “Apples to Apples.” There are quite a few other things (fun, family things) I would love to have done today but gas prices are outrageous. Still, we’ve gotten a lot accomplished and have had fun in the process. We haven’t needed money to laugh, sing, dance, play, and make an adventure out of just about everything. It’s been good to see!

Day Seven- Sunday, May 24, 2009

I have mixed emotions about the success of our little experiment. On one hand, I feel like my family has at least a cosmetic understanding of how blessed we really are. By that I mean, we have been made more consciously aware of the “stuff” we take for granted every day. To a lesser degree, there have been moments of recognizing how blessed we are to have each other—to truly enjoy one another. There is a lot of love in our family. I feel it is too often overlooked because we are always running and working to make (or maybe keep) life “better.” Which begs the question, “better than what?” Is this the great “American Dream?” To ignore (or at least set aside) the things that should truly be most precious to us in exchange for the ongoing opportunity to prove in visible ways to the rest of the world that we can afford these all but neglected “precious things?”

Also, I feel that, in the end, the awareness that we’ve only been pretending has inoculated the whole experiment. There has been little real bite to this. Even now, I am thinking about the things I’ve been putting off until our little exercise is over (hair cut, lunch with a friend, replacing my broken guitar, etc.). But, I can honestly say I have a deeper appreciation for the circumstances that afford me the resource to be able to “indulge” in such things. Hopefully, for my family, even if in the smallest of ways, they too may be coming to recognize just how much of an “indulgence,” not an “entitlement,” these things are. For MOST people in the world, they are extravagances.

We still haven’t decided what we will do with the money we have not spent this week. I don’t mean the few dollars we have left from our allowance. I mean the money we would have spent if we hadn’t been on it. We haven’t really even discussed it. I think it should be a family decision. I can’t wait to see what we come up with.

Finally, I’m forced to wonder, “what is our cut-off?” Do we have one? What I mean is, it seems we had less trouble than anticipated living at or below poverty income for a week (though, I’m not sure my family would enjoy the idea that any of our sacrifices become permanent). But, what do we really need? What is the bare minimum required for us to survive as a family? What changes in the way we think about ourselves and our world would be required to go below that line? Would they be worth exploring? What would God have us do with what we’ve discovered and experienced? Where do we go from here?