I had a disturbing conversation with an old friend last night.
Carl and I sat at McMennamin’s brewpub sipping ruby ale, reconnecting after little recent contact. He had a sort of glow about him, and looked healthier (and happier) than I remembered.
“My life is so good right now,” he said. “I have everything I could ever want, I only work four to six hours a day, I don’t own a car or have any expenses. I’m free, and I'm blessed!”
I genuinely envied the satisfied simplicity he was describing.
He continued, “But I’m almost thirty, you know? And I’ve already lived a more blessed life than most of the people in this world. And I’ve been thinking a lot about God lately…” Carl had never been overtly religious.
“… and I realize I have to do something that matters with my life. I can’t just get old and fat, enjoying what I’ve been given…”
He then proceeded to lament the world’s evils – particularly “evil men,” and the violence they commit against women and children in the world. He said he was going to do something about it. That he was ready to die if he had to, “to do something that matters.” He would personally give his life to “stop evil men.”
It occurred to me that he’d been hinting at something that had snuck up without my initial notice. I asked, “Bro, you’re not saying you’re willing to kill, are you?”
Without hesitating he smiled and nodded, then, “Here’s my plan: in the next couple of years I’m going to save up enough money to go somewhere – like South America or Africa, Darfur, you know – and just look for people who need protection. Maybe I’ll go to a well and watch as women come for water. And if anyone messes with them or tries to hurt them, I’ll stop it. And people will see, and they’ll tell other people, and they’ll come after me…” it was like listening to a Hollywood movie synopsis. He wanted to be a vigilante. No – he kept talking about dying. Carl wanted to be a martyr.
“All right. I understand the desire to fight for good. But tell me, what makes your plans different from those of an Islamic Terrorist?” I asked.
“They kill civilians. And they have an agenda. I just want to stop evil people, and hopefully protect good people.”
I pressed, “But how can you judge who is evil and who deserves to die?”
“Well,” he answered, “I’ll watch and wait till they attempt an evil act. Then I’ll stop them. And you know, if you’ve got God on your side, you’re going to be covered. Because God is good, and if you're doing good, you're with God. You know, righteousness.” Again, his newfound spirituality was surprising, and disconcerting in this context.
We went back and forth: me pressing him for justification and context, Carl self-assuredly responding with talk of holiness, justice and clear-cut language about good and evil men.
I never overtly condemned his plans. There was no point. He would have turned off the dialogue. I only hoped to dent his worldview and raise enough questions to erode some of his "moral" foundations.
Is this what a militant Christian zealot looks like here in suburban America? Can it come from such benign surroundings and sheltered lives (I’ve known Carl since high school)?
In The Lion’s Pride, Leonard Sweet writes:
“Men and women of faith have mindlessly bought into a system in which it is morally right to threaten to do something immoral.” (pg. 27)
17th Century Theologian Jeremy Taylor wrote:
“But when a man does evil that good may come of it, or good to an evil purpose, that man does like him that rolls himself in thorns that he may sleep easily; he roasts himself in the fire…”
I don’t know if Carl is really capable of doing the things he says. He’s always been a philosophical eccentric. But he’s serious enough to say these things seriously.
We ended the evening with a hug. I told him, "I love you," and I meant it.
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com
Visit Me At...
Wednesday
Thursday
Out of the Ooze!
Well, it took a few years, but my writing has finally made it past magazine confines, into a genuine book!Conceptualized, organized and edited by Spencer Burke, Out of the OOZE is a collection of writings, rants and parables about being Christian and wrestling with "the church" amidst new paradigms - from new vantages.
From Amazon.com:
"TheOoze.com is an online collective of believers who feel disconnected from the mainstream church. Through articles and message boards, the site offers a public forum to honestly discuss faith, culture, and ministry. Site founder Spencer Burke hosts a journey through compelling stories that highlight the hopes and struggles of a new generation. Readers will encounter fresh perspectives and inspiration to pursue an authentic walk with Christ."
If you spend much time reading my blogs, you'll recognize much of the chapter I wrote from an old post here: "Cultural Refugees in Gay Nightclubs." The chapter is basically just that - a blog post converted into an article for theOOZE - then converted into a chapter for the book. It makes me feel awkward, because the writing is far more casual (even a little sloppy) than I would have hoped for my first publication. I pray NavPress doesn't hold it against me as they evaluate my worldspeak manuscript.
Anyway, pick up the book at Borders, your local bookstore or at Amazon.com! (please: just don't judge my writing entirely by that one little piece)
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
Wednesday
"Reaching Out" - or into loneliness
I've been reading Henri Nouwen's Reaching Out over the last week or so and it's been impacting me deeply.
I feel like I have been lonely for as long as I can remember. There have been moments thick with the physical presence of friends & family. And there were times where I managed to gain enough attention or popularity to almost muffle the pangs of isolation in my gut. I used to think of those “distracted” periods as high points – when I’d achieved the connectedness I craved. I’m realizing more and more that the times of greatest singular loneliness in life were also the times where God’s hand pressed heaviest on my heart.
However, until Nouwen’s Reaching Out, I don’t think I have encountered any voice (pastor, friend or counselor) telling me that this aching was natural, necessary & right. I’m an American Evangelical! If something doesn’t feel good, it must be wrong! Reaching Out has really begun to play a connecting role in matching my awareness of God’s presence in the “dark” to Nouwen’s assertion that loneliness is not only obligatory, but indispensable.
Nouwen says that without “solitude of the heart,” we are not even capable of loving people in the way they deserve to be loved. After reading the first three chapters I went & told my wife that I wanted to love her because she deserves my love – because she exists.
I confessed that most of my love for her is twisted & compromised of what I think I need from her, & what I want to get out of her. She said, “I think most of us love that way.” I said, “But wouldn’t it be incredible if we could let go of all that & love each other entirely for who the other is?” I was "lucky" enough to be unlucky in love till my twenties, so growing up I didn’t have romance to hide in. Married now, I have quickly learned how to look to my wife to hide from myself, my loneliness, and God residing in the midst of that dreaded isolation.
Slowly, I'm trying to train myself to stop running from the loneliness. Inside the aching, the silence, the singular awareness of one's own disconnected (in some ways) reality, there is a voice of Truth who is whispering identity, purpose and love at the core of our being. I want to listen for that voice...
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://emergingchristianity.blogspot.com
I feel like I have been lonely for as long as I can remember. There have been moments thick with the physical presence of friends & family. And there were times where I managed to gain enough attention or popularity to almost muffle the pangs of isolation in my gut. I used to think of those “distracted” periods as high points – when I’d achieved the connectedness I craved. I’m realizing more and more that the times of greatest singular loneliness in life were also the times where God’s hand pressed heaviest on my heart.
However, until Nouwen’s Reaching Out, I don’t think I have encountered any voice (pastor, friend or counselor) telling me that this aching was natural, necessary & right. I’m an American Evangelical! If something doesn’t feel good, it must be wrong! Reaching Out has really begun to play a connecting role in matching my awareness of God’s presence in the “dark” to Nouwen’s assertion that loneliness is not only obligatory, but indispensable.
Nouwen says that without “solitude of the heart,” we are not even capable of loving people in the way they deserve to be loved. After reading the first three chapters I went & told my wife that I wanted to love her because she deserves my love – because she exists.
I confessed that most of my love for her is twisted & compromised of what I think I need from her, & what I want to get out of her. She said, “I think most of us love that way.” I said, “But wouldn’t it be incredible if we could let go of all that & love each other entirely for who the other is?” I was "lucky" enough to be unlucky in love till my twenties, so growing up I didn’t have romance to hide in. Married now, I have quickly learned how to look to my wife to hide from myself, my loneliness, and God residing in the midst of that dreaded isolation.
Slowly, I'm trying to train myself to stop running from the loneliness. Inside the aching, the silence, the singular awareness of one's own disconnected (in some ways) reality, there is a voice of Truth who is whispering identity, purpose and love at the core of our being. I want to listen for that voice...
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://emergingchristianity.blogspot.com
Denying the Holy Spirit...
I talked with a woman today who had visited my little "soulcafe" church once, but didn't return because it wasn't right for her.
"They were sweet people," she explained, "but I need to be in a place where they are living out the gifts of the spirit."
I said, "hold on, they are functioning in the gifts of the spirit. Those women are volunteering at the hospital, cooking dinners for their neighbors, and I've never seen a group that prays so much."
She said, "yes," but no one there could lay "annointed hands" on her if she was sick, or to pray over her in tongues when she needed strength. She needed her needs met at whatever cost.
I suggested, humbly, that I had left my last church because I felt they had turned God into a gift-dispenser. I said that I didn't speak in tongues because I had watched too many young people in the youth group admit to "faking it" simply because it was the expectation. I didn't want to be a part of that, so I spent my prayer time in quietness before the Lord.
She told me I was denying the Holy Spirit because I didn't speak in tongues.
I said I revered the Holy Spirit too much to play games with it.
It was an awkward conversation. She smiled a huge grin the entire time, but I felt her hating me from behind her eyes, somehow.
...please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
"They were sweet people," she explained, "but I need to be in a place where they are living out the gifts of the spirit."
I said, "hold on, they are functioning in the gifts of the spirit. Those women are volunteering at the hospital, cooking dinners for their neighbors, and I've never seen a group that prays so much."
She said, "yes," but no one there could lay "annointed hands" on her if she was sick, or to pray over her in tongues when she needed strength. She needed her needs met at whatever cost.
I suggested, humbly, that I had left my last church because I felt they had turned God into a gift-dispenser. I said that I didn't speak in tongues because I had watched too many young people in the youth group admit to "faking it" simply because it was the expectation. I didn't want to be a part of that, so I spent my prayer time in quietness before the Lord.
She told me I was denying the Holy Spirit because I didn't speak in tongues.
I said I revered the Holy Spirit too much to play games with it.
It was an awkward conversation. She smiled a huge grin the entire time, but I felt her hating me from behind her eyes, somehow.
...please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
Drunk? Or Mistaken...
A man is stumbling through the woods totally drunk when he comes upon a preacher baptizing people in the river. The drunk walks into the water and subsequently bumps into the preacher.
The preacher turns around and is almost overcome by the smell of booze. He asks the drunk, "Are you ready to find Jesus?"
"Yes I am" replies the drunk, so the preacher grabs him and dunks him in the river.
He pulls him up and asks the drunk, "Brother have you found Jesus?"
The drunk replies, "No!"
Shocked at the answer, the preacher dunks him into the water again, but for a bit longer this time. He pulls him out of the water and asks again, "Have you found Jesus, my brother?"
The drunk again answers, "No, I have not found Jesus."
By this time the preacher is at his wits end so he dunks the drunk in the water again, but this time he holds him down for about 30 seconds. When the drunk begins kicking his arms and legs, the preacher pulls him up. The preacher asks the drunk again, "For the love of God, have you found Jesus?"
The drunk wipes his eyes and catches his breath and says to the preacher, "Are you sure this is where he fell in?"
~
We're asking the wrong questions.
We're torturing people, holding them underwater, because they don't speak our language.
...please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
The preacher turns around and is almost overcome by the smell of booze. He asks the drunk, "Are you ready to find Jesus?"
"Yes I am" replies the drunk, so the preacher grabs him and dunks him in the river.
He pulls him up and asks the drunk, "Brother have you found Jesus?"
The drunk replies, "No!"
Shocked at the answer, the preacher dunks him into the water again, but for a bit longer this time. He pulls him out of the water and asks again, "Have you found Jesus, my brother?"
The drunk again answers, "No, I have not found Jesus."
By this time the preacher is at his wits end so he dunks the drunk in the water again, but this time he holds him down for about 30 seconds. When the drunk begins kicking his arms and legs, the preacher pulls him up. The preacher asks the drunk again, "For the love of God, have you found Jesus?"
The drunk wipes his eyes and catches his breath and says to the preacher, "Are you sure this is where he fell in?"
~
We're torturing people, holding them underwater, because they don't speak our language.
~
...please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
Saturday
Freakonomics... is anything taboo?
I've been reading Steven Levitt's Freakonomics (2006) over the last few days and have been amazed at the frankness in which the author(s) write about some very sensitive subjects. Namely, abortion.
Now I just had a conversation with my wife (who thinks I'm too harsh) in which I said Christians have no right to be easily-offended. "Wise as serpents..." Throughout my life I've seen Christians hide their eyes at PG violence or write angry letters over NBC prime-time sex jokes. I've watched Christian high schoolers stunned by a classmate's foul language and Christian college students shocked and (particularly) enraged by peer sex and drinking habits.
I say: "get over it! That's the world! Now find out how to love them!"
My argument there is that Jesus spent his time with the people most Christians hide from. We aren't meeting the world in the non-smoking section, in Christian bookstores, or in the cafes our churches erect so we don't have to go to non-Christian coffee shops! In every way we're able, we hide ourselves from "the least of these." Or maybe, more accurately: "the REALEST of these."
That's reality. But I digress...
When I read in Freakonomics that the author was arguingn for legalized abortion as the single biggest reason for the single largest drop of violent crime in US history (in the 90s) I wasn't offended that someone would dig for good in something I generally view as [mostly] negative. But I must admit I was a little shocked by the seemingly-detached tone in which the idea was introduced (I guess that's just the way of a number crunching economist). AND I was (and still am) a little scared about what the results mean for society.
In the late 90s, violent crime - and crime in general - in America was at an all time high. And it was climbing! Experts, media and community leaders all over the country were predicting total chaos at our doorsteps - the future looked bleak! And then all of the sudden the crime rates dropped. And KEPT dropping. Plummeting, really. The same experts, politicians, law enforcement and media speculated and took credit for the reasons behind the drop - but no one suggested what Levitt suggests in his book: that by the mid-to-late-90s, the babies who would have been most likely to grow up into criminals, weren't around. Their mothers never had them. A generation of millions of "would-be-criminals" had been aborted, thanks to Roe v. Wade.
Maybe this isn't as shocking as I'm making it. Maybe it's moreso. I've heard people before making poor arguments against abortion by saying, "what if the baby grew up to be the next Adolf Hitler? Then wouldn't abortion have been valid?" These hypotheticals are pointless, and of course hindsight is 20/20.
Stepping outside of the polarized abortion debate and recognizing that most people from both sides of the fence would acknowledge abortion isn't beneficial for everyone and certainly isn't a responsible alternative to birth control: is it dangerous to look, quantitatively, at human life? Abortion. Murder. Infanticide. Manslaughter. Obviously we track these things, and greater numbers mean greater loss. But what Levitt does with this line of questions and conclusions is weigh human life against human life...
Now I just had a conversation with my wife (who thinks I'm too harsh) in which I said Christians have no right to be easily-offended. "Wise as serpents..." Throughout my life I've seen Christians hide their eyes at PG violence or write angry letters over NBC prime-time sex jokes. I've watched Christian high schoolers stunned by a classmate's foul language and Christian college students shocked and (particularly) enraged by peer sex and drinking habits.
I say: "get over it! That's the world! Now find out how to love them!"
My argument there is that Jesus spent his time with the people most Christians hide from. We aren't meeting the world in the non-smoking section, in Christian bookstores, or in the cafes our churches erect so we don't have to go to non-Christian coffee shops! In every way we're able, we hide ourselves from "the least of these." Or maybe, more accurately: "the REALEST of these."
That's reality. But I digress...
When I read in Freakonomics that the author was arguingn for legalized abortion as the single biggest reason for the single largest drop of violent crime in US history (in the 90s) I wasn't offended that someone would dig for good in something I generally view as [mostly] negative. But I must admit I was a little shocked by the seemingly-detached tone in which the idea was introduced (I guess that's just the way of a number crunching economist). AND I was (and still am) a little scared about what the results mean for society.
In the late 90s, violent crime - and crime in general - in America was at an all time high. And it was climbing! Experts, media and community leaders all over the country were predicting total chaos at our doorsteps - the future looked bleak! And then all of the sudden the crime rates dropped. And KEPT dropping. Plummeting, really. The same experts, politicians, law enforcement and media speculated and took credit for the reasons behind the drop - but no one suggested what Levitt suggests in his book: that by the mid-to-late-90s, the babies who would have been most likely to grow up into criminals, weren't around. Their mothers never had them. A generation of millions of "would-be-criminals" had been aborted, thanks to Roe v. Wade.
Maybe this isn't as shocking as I'm making it. Maybe it's moreso. I've heard people before making poor arguments against abortion by saying, "what if the baby grew up to be the next Adolf Hitler? Then wouldn't abortion have been valid?" These hypotheticals are pointless, and of course hindsight is 20/20.
Stepping outside of the polarized abortion debate and recognizing that most people from both sides of the fence would acknowledge abortion isn't beneficial for everyone and certainly isn't a responsible alternative to birth control: is it dangerous to look, quantitatively, at human life? Abortion. Murder. Infanticide. Manslaughter. Obviously we track these things, and greater numbers mean greater loss. But what Levitt does with this line of questions and conclusions is weigh human life against human life...
- "How many fetuses equal the value of a birthed baby?"
- "How many abortions are worth the value of a prevented murder?"
It's not that the questions aren't compelling. It's not even that I think they aren't worth asking. They just make me nervous... and I wonder if they lead to other questions and eventually to attitudes, and with those attitudes, ways of life that regard humans in numbers where our Creator sees individuals: heart and soul.
Maybe I'm just being sensitive or prudish. And I don't mean to sound like a picket-sign-wielder. That isn't me. But maybe the value of life wasn't meant to be quantified. Maybe it can't be quantified...
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
Wednesday
Off The Map LIVE: Coming Soon...
People Are Talking
“Off The Map Live is like a refuge and a shelter. I found there a group of Jesus-followers who understand, listen, accept, and still love me with true kindness.”
“There was warmth, casualness and an acceptance that touched me deeply. I found plenty of room for me to be me and to expand on my ideas and doubts”
“As a college student I found the challenging nature of the conference the most exciting. Next year, I intend to bring ten more young women who are passionate about making church and the Christian experience relevant”
You Want to Know
Schedule
Nov 1-3 / Thursday 7:30-9:30 PM / Friday 8:30-5:00 PM / Saturday 8:30 -12:00 PM
Location
Seattle Area- Eastside Foursquare Church
Tickets
student and group prices available
Blog read interviews/leave thoughts
“Off The Map Live is like a refuge and a shelter. I found there a group of Jesus-followers who understand, listen, accept, and still love me with true kindness.”
“There was warmth, casualness and an acceptance that touched me deeply. I found plenty of room for me to be me and to expand on my ideas and doubts”
“As a college student I found the challenging nature of the conference the most exciting. Next year, I intend to bring ten more young women who are passionate about making church and the Christian experience relevant”
You Want to Know
Schedule
Nov 1-3 / Thursday 7:30-9:30 PM / Friday 8:30-5:00 PM / Saturday 8:30 -12:00 PM
Location
Seattle Area- Eastside Foursquare Church
Tickets
student and group prices available
Blog read interviews/leave thoughts
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
Tuesday
Loss and Dignity...
We lost my grandfather on Sunday. It was so strange - everyone thought he was going to recover just fine after surgery on Tuesday to remove part of his stomach. Cancer.
He had been walking around, talking. But a cohort of complications snowballed and he went down fast. His parents lived to 92 and 94 but he was only 77. We never expected it.
My grandmother said, "It feels like a nightmare and I can't wake up."
Both my parents, but my father in particular, sobbed like I've never seen. My father is fiercely afraid of hell for his atheist mother and father, which made the whole process so much darker for him.
But a funny thing: when my mother kissed his head as they took him off life support, she whispered, "We'll see you again someday, sweetheart."
My friend Jim Henderson says most Christians have "secret beliefs," things "we know we know" but won't admit to in public because they may not fit our particular theologies. The issue of hell is a common one. People who have lost loved ones who lived lives of love, hope and... were perhaps weak in faith... know that the Lord is good and trust to his mercy, apart from judgment and damnation.
Usually I'm an emotional mess, but I found myself tougher than usual for my parents - something I needed to see in myself.
As I watched my grandfather's body heave up and down from the respirator, I thought of how unnatural the motions looked. I visualized him held under water, trying to float to the surface, but kept down so that only his nostrils reached the air above. A torturous, ongoing grab at life.
I never comprehended the phrase "death with dignity" till that moment. I understand the desire to avoid long, ongoing life support when it was time for a life to go, but the "dignity" aspect never resonated because I'd never seen the horrific, unearthly visual of a real man held, not in stasis, but in violent, crude, even offensive half-life-limbo.
We let him go. My grandmother had them pull the plugs. She didn't even go to see him in those final hours. She had said goodbye and would not cloud her memories with ghoulish images of the machine-bound man who was ready to go. I'm glad.
Now, to have a chat with my father about hell... I guess I'll start by having him read McLaren's The Last Word... And the Word After That.
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
He had been walking around, talking. But a cohort of complications snowballed and he went down fast. His parents lived to 92 and 94 but he was only 77. We never expected it.
My grandmother said, "It feels like a nightmare and I can't wake up."
Both my parents, but my father in particular, sobbed like I've never seen. My father is fiercely afraid of hell for his atheist mother and father, which made the whole process so much darker for him.
But a funny thing: when my mother kissed his head as they took him off life support, she whispered, "We'll see you again someday, sweetheart."
My friend Jim Henderson says most Christians have "secret beliefs," things "we know we know" but won't admit to in public because they may not fit our particular theologies. The issue of hell is a common one. People who have lost loved ones who lived lives of love, hope and... were perhaps weak in faith... know that the Lord is good and trust to his mercy, apart from judgment and damnation.
Usually I'm an emotional mess, but I found myself tougher than usual for my parents - something I needed to see in myself.
As I watched my grandfather's body heave up and down from the respirator, I thought of how unnatural the motions looked. I visualized him held under water, trying to float to the surface, but kept down so that only his nostrils reached the air above. A torturous, ongoing grab at life.
I never comprehended the phrase "death with dignity" till that moment. I understand the desire to avoid long, ongoing life support when it was time for a life to go, but the "dignity" aspect never resonated because I'd never seen the horrific, unearthly visual of a real man held, not in stasis, but in violent, crude, even offensive half-life-limbo.
We let him go. My grandmother had them pull the plugs. She didn't even go to see him in those final hours. She had said goodbye and would not cloud her memories with ghoulish images of the machine-bound man who was ready to go. I'm glad.
Now, to have a chat with my father about hell... I guess I'll start by having him read McLaren's The Last Word... And the Word After That.
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
Thursday
Quietness...
There is a time when all of the wisdom, relevance and captivating imagery in the world has to lay down and die in patient waiting - in faith that the Holy Spirit speaks.
There are friends I can speak to again and again, months passing to years, but mine is not the voice of the Lord.
Last week I lost a friend and co-worker in a senseless car wreck. Her funeral was led by her church and family: harsh, didactic and fear driven. Her pastor and parents shared shifts, calling for converts.
"How many of you know where you'd spend eternity if you died on the freeway tonight?"
Now raise your hand and repent before the god of fear and self-preservation.
Oh that we knew how to keep our mouths shut and trust in the Lord.
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
There are friends I can speak to again and again, months passing to years, but mine is not the voice of the Lord.
Last week I lost a friend and co-worker in a senseless car wreck. Her funeral was led by her church and family: harsh, didactic and fear driven. Her pastor and parents shared shifts, calling for converts.
"How many of you know where you'd spend eternity if you died on the freeway tonight?"
Now raise your hand and repent before the god of fear and self-preservation.
Oh that we knew how to keep our mouths shut and trust in the Lord.
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
Monday
Billy Graham & Oprah...
Some of you may have already gotten a rather cheesy e-mail forwarded to you about Billy Graham's appearances on Oprah and 20/20. I find most e-mail forwards unconscionable, obnoxious and usually-maddening.
Still, I missed Graham's appearances on the shows, and was inspired by a few things he said and did. While I may not line up with all of Graham's theology, he has always seemed so humble and gracious, more willing to err on the side of love and forgiveness than firm judgment or blind certainty. Frankly, I prefer goodness to "correctness," so I guess I'm a pretty big fan of Mr. Graham.
Here's the account (slightly edited to minimize the silly commentary)...
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/...Last year, evangelist Billy Graham was interviewed by Oprah Winfrey. Oprah told him that in her childhood home, she used to watch him preach on a little black & white TV while sitting on a linoleum floor. She went on to the tell viewers that in his lifetime Billy has preached to twenty-million people around the world, not to mention the countless numbers who have heard him whenever his crusades are broadcast.
When she asked if he got nervous before facing a crowd, Billy replied humbly, "No, I don't get nervous before crowds, but I did today before I was going to meet with you."
Oprah's show is broadcast to twenty-million people every day. She is comfortable with famous stars & celebrities but seemed in awe of Dr. Graham. When the interview ended, she told the audience, "You don't often see this on my show,
but we're going to pray." Then she asked Billy to close in prayer. The camera panned the studio audience as they bowed their heads & closed their eyes just like in one of his crusades. Oprah sang the first line from his favorite hymn, "Just as I am, without a plea…" misreading the line & singing off key, but her voice was full of emotion & almost cracked.
When Billy stood up after the show, instead of hugging her guest, Oprah's usual custom, she went over & nestled against him. Billy wrapped his arm around her & she stood in his fatherly embrace with a look of contentment.
Billy Graham was not the least bit condemning, distant, nor hesitant to embrace a public personality who doesn’t fit the typical evangelical mold.
In an interview with Hugh Downs on ABC’s 20/20 show, the subject turned to homosexuality. Hugh looked directly at Billy Graham & said, "If you had a homosexual child, would you love him?" Billy didn't miss a beat. He replied with sincerity & gentleness, "Why, I would love that one even more."
The title of Billy's autobiography, "Just As I Am," says it all.
Billy complimented Oprah when asked what he was most thankful for; he said, "Salvation given to us in Jesus Christ" then added, "& the way you have made people all over this country aware of the power of being grateful."
What if we took the things that set us apart, that made us different, which caused us to disagree, & make them an occasion to compliment each other & be thankful for each other? What if we were big enough to be smaller than our neighbor, spouse, friends, & strangers?
Friday
The Suicide Machine
I've got my 10-year high school reunion tonight. Strange how fast these things come up.
I ran into an old classmate yesterday when I stopped in to see my parents. Marjorie was in town from D.C. for the reunion.
I was driving my wife's "humble" '98 Cavalier and I saw her waiving at me as she walked down the street of our old neighborhood with her father. For a moment I was excited to see her, and then an instinct popped into my mind that sent me into a little panic: "She can't think this is the car I drive! What if she doesn't think I'm successful."
Success. The idea made me feel a little nauseous and self-conscious all at once. Quite glamorously [sounding] she is "just visiting from D.C." and here I am, living fifteen minutes from the city we grew up in.
Driving a '98 Cavalier.
I guiltily pushed the feelings aside. I care about the kingdom, not cars and prestige, I said to myself (knowing it was barely half-true). Marj hugged me eagerly and asked what I was up to.
The "American-Dreamon" (I just thought of that. Too cutesy? Offensive?) reared its head in me again and I answered, "I'm the branch manager at a credit union here in town." Not, "Oh, I work in finance." I had to throw a cheap title at her. I'll bet it looked pathetic.
What is this need to impress - to prove worldly success? To say, "I made it"?
The Kingdom of God shrinks us so that others might grow and be blessed. But our own nature is so backward. I want to talk about the Kingdom of God and Beatitude Life (peacemakers, meek, hungry and thirsty...) but I sure would love to be driving an Audi while I do - in case people wonder if I chose this life, or if I settled.
But when I fight to prove myself by worldly standards, I AM settling. Settling for the world's economy: what Len Sweet calls a "Suicide Machine."
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
I ran into an old classmate yesterday when I stopped in to see my parents. Marjorie was in town from D.C. for the reunion.
I was driving my wife's "humble" '98 Cavalier and I saw her waiving at me as she walked down the street of our old neighborhood with her father. For a moment I was excited to see her, and then an instinct popped into my mind that sent me into a little panic: "She can't think this is the car I drive! What if she doesn't think I'm successful."
Success. The idea made me feel a little nauseous and self-conscious all at once. Quite glamorously [sounding] she is "just visiting from D.C." and here I am, living fifteen minutes from the city we grew up in.
Driving a '98 Cavalier.
I guiltily pushed the feelings aside. I care about the kingdom, not cars and prestige, I said to myself (knowing it was barely half-true). Marj hugged me eagerly and asked what I was up to.
The "American-Dreamon" (I just thought of that. Too cutesy? Offensive?) reared its head in me again and I answered, "I'm the branch manager at a credit union here in town." Not, "Oh, I work in finance." I had to throw a cheap title at her. I'll bet it looked pathetic.
What is this need to impress - to prove worldly success? To say, "I made it"?
The Kingdom of God shrinks us so that others might grow and be blessed. But our own nature is so backward. I want to talk about the Kingdom of God and Beatitude Life (peacemakers, meek, hungry and thirsty...) but I sure would love to be driving an Audi while I do - in case people wonder if I chose this life, or if I settled.
But when I fight to prove myself by worldly standards, I AM settling. Settling for the world's economy: what Len Sweet calls a "Suicide Machine."
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at http://emergingchristianity.blogspot.com/
Sunday
Finding time for the world...
I think the ongoing struggle in my life is (and will be) the need and desire to keep myself "in the world" when so much pulls me out.
I work a more-than-full-time job, and while that could certainly be called "in the world," it isn't enough for me. I want more. More people, more perspective, more shared experience.
In seminary, I'm surrounded by Christians. In church: by Christians.
As passionate as I am about listening to the voices of the cultures around me, I make little time to be quiet and pay attention. Slave to the paycheck, bills, and practicality.
I wonder if I really have a clue about what the world is saying. Most of what's in me right now is personal bias, personal vendetta and my microcosmic perspectives.
This morning my wife and I visited a church we don't normally attend - just for a brief change of scenery. It's a little local "Emergent-style" plant. We showed up late, and the young man (maybe 20ish) attending the front door attacked us enthusiastically.
"Hey, hey, how are you guys doing? Have you been here before? Come on in - there's music inside. They're rocking out, but nothing hard. We save the hard stuff for later on - when we're battling demons, stuff like that. Yeah! There's a war out there!" yadda yadda...
If we didn't speak Christianese, we probably would have found him frightening. Even so, we found him frightening. I wanted to tell him so, but didn't. I'm wearied by militarism - of any bent.
Inside we saw a brief clip from "Nacho Libre" and the pastor talked about the Gospel and our need to impact the local community. Not bad, kind of nice actually, but the Spiritual-Battle-Boy had already soured my attitude.
I'm too easily frustrated, I think.
Back to the world: I'm trying to listen but I'm having a hard time finding... time.
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com
I work a more-than-full-time job, and while that could certainly be called "in the world," it isn't enough for me. I want more. More people, more perspective, more shared experience.
In seminary, I'm surrounded by Christians. In church: by Christians.
As passionate as I am about listening to the voices of the cultures around me, I make little time to be quiet and pay attention. Slave to the paycheck, bills, and practicality.
I wonder if I really have a clue about what the world is saying. Most of what's in me right now is personal bias, personal vendetta and my microcosmic perspectives.
This morning my wife and I visited a church we don't normally attend - just for a brief change of scenery. It's a little local "Emergent-style" plant. We showed up late, and the young man (maybe 20ish) attending the front door attacked us enthusiastically.
"Hey, hey, how are you guys doing? Have you been here before? Come on in - there's music inside. They're rocking out, but nothing hard. We save the hard stuff for later on - when we're battling demons, stuff like that. Yeah! There's a war out there!" yadda yadda...
If we didn't speak Christianese, we probably would have found him frightening. Even so, we found him frightening. I wanted to tell him so, but didn't. I'm wearied by militarism - of any bent.
Inside we saw a brief clip from "Nacho Libre" and the pastor talked about the Gospel and our need to impact the local community. Not bad, kind of nice actually, but the Spiritual-Battle-Boy had already soured my attitude.
I'm too easily frustrated, I think.
Back to the world: I'm trying to listen but I'm having a hard time finding... time.
please read more about my thoughts on the evolution of Christianity at www.emergingchristianity.blogspot.com
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