My oldest child had to present a research paper on a controversial topic recently. She chose same sex marriage. Because the culture in our small town is dominated by people who believe in the government's right to limit the rights of the individual (while oddly and inexplicably claiming to be Libertarian), she was told by her classmates that one cannot be Christian and support gay marriage.
I'm used to this; I've long been a heretic. A person cannot be Christian and support gay marriage, a person cannot be Christian and support the right of choice to be reserved as a medical decision, not a political one (note: I am NOT prochoice; I am pro-"I won't make medical decisions for others"), a person cannot be Christian and support a living wage (I could give you hundreds of verses supporting that last one, but have been told I use a "liberal bible", whatever THAT means!). But when you spend years trying to instill your children with an understanding of true faith, and a firm foundation to go through in life, it's deeply disheartening to see them questioning their faith not because of reason but because of (get this): the evidence that they have seen in the lives of their friends who claim to be Christian.
Here's the rub: the vast majority of our high school students binge drink every weekend. Yet the churches that have spent so much time telling them that those who believe in the rights of homosexual couples to marry are going to Hell have conveniently forgotten to tell their kids that drunkenness is a sin and carries equal penalty. The churches that spend time teaching followers that it is their moral obligation to deny a woman the right to abortion even if it is medically necessary have turned a blind eye to the rampant sexuality of their Christian youth, consigning themselves to the fact that "it's what kids do", and ironically ignoring the fact that the one action actually leads to the other becoming a concern!
I don't worry for the faith of my daughter; I welcome it, although with a little nervousness. Like all parents, I want the best for my children, and I want them to understand the hope of salvation that comes through the cross without having to go through the pain I did to find it. But I also understand it's her faith journey, and, like that proverbial lonesome valley, one I cannot walk for her.
But it is equally my hope that she understand that there is a real Christian faith, and you can often find it in some of those who have been willing to be ostracized in order to stand for what they know to be right even against a culture that condemns them for it.
As for the faith community: when your tools for evangelism drive people from the cross rather than towards it, you're doing it wrong!
Monday, December 16, 2013
Sunday, December 1, 2013
10 Things the Church Should be Doing to Address Poverty
This is a list of 10 things I believe the church should be doing to help address the reality of poverty. It's time to get real; folks, our mission has nothing to do with multimedia entertainment, latte bars and bookstores; it has EVERYTHING to do with ministering with everything we have:
1. Co-op buying: Buy items in bulk. Break them down and allow the community to purchase at the bulk price. You can work with local farmers and vendors to support the local community.
2. Purchase debt: eliminate entirely or continue payments at zero interest. Work with organizations like strikedebt.org to purchase debts at premium rates -- and pass the reduction on to the community. Getting families out of debt means they can use more of their income for actual expenses and not for the finance company.
3. Microlending: For those needs where additional income is required (car repairs, for instance), pair with microlending partners to help provide options for the community that keep interest rates very low. While the goal is debt free, on a fixed income, that is not always a reality.
4. Community gardens: For many communities, this can be part of the community beautification process as well. It also helps educate people on how to be a part of their own success story.
5. Trade/barter services: If someone in your community needs car repair, find services they can barter (either directly with the mechanic or indirectly with another church member) rather than use limited cash reserves for the repair.
6. Personal Finance classes: Help teach them how to do the most with what they have monetarily and make a budget.
7. Adult education/adult literacy: provide a pathway to better jobs through education and literacy classes.
8. Free/siding scale clinics
9. Housing/Home repair/Habitat for Humanity. Help them to have safe and affordable housing.
10. Living Wage Advocacy.
1. Co-op buying: Buy items in bulk. Break them down and allow the community to purchase at the bulk price. You can work with local farmers and vendors to support the local community.
2. Purchase debt: eliminate entirely or continue payments at zero interest. Work with organizations like strikedebt.org to purchase debts at premium rates -- and pass the reduction on to the community. Getting families out of debt means they can use more of their income for actual expenses and not for the finance company.
3. Microlending: For those needs where additional income is required (car repairs, for instance), pair with microlending partners to help provide options for the community that keep interest rates very low. While the goal is debt free, on a fixed income, that is not always a reality.
4. Community gardens: For many communities, this can be part of the community beautification process as well. It also helps educate people on how to be a part of their own success story.
5. Trade/barter services: If someone in your community needs car repair, find services they can barter (either directly with the mechanic or indirectly with another church member) rather than use limited cash reserves for the repair.
6. Personal Finance classes: Help teach them how to do the most with what they have monetarily and make a budget.
7. Adult education/adult literacy: provide a pathway to better jobs through education and literacy classes.
8. Free/siding scale clinics
9. Housing/Home repair/Habitat for Humanity. Help them to have safe and affordable housing.
10. Living Wage Advocacy.
You see a _______, I see my FRIEND!!!!
When I was 18, I came to a saving faith in Christ. There was no pretense about it, no show, no flash. I only know this because in the 25 years since, I've never been able to shake the cross, even when the path away looked easier.
And I've listened to sermon after sermon about what it means to be holy; what it means to be Godly...and 90% of them have been absolutely right, yet absolutely wrong.
See, they focused on actions, they didn't focus on the heart. They didn't focus on what it means to be Christlike, to give EVERYTHING you have and are in worship. And they didn't (and don't) focus on the Fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23).
The current wave of politics has forced my hand. It's forced me to weigh what I know, and what I believe against what it means to be a true light in a world full of anger, of hate, of pain. But more than that, what it means to be a friend.
I won't lie; what I say next will further alienate me from people I know and love dearly. And that pains me. But not as much as seeing friends suffer alone when someone out there genuinely cares about them, about their hurts, and about their ambitions.
You see, the timing of this article was directly prompted by a friend who lamented the fact that it is the 25th anniversary of World AIDS Day, and it has gone unnoticed, even as the faithful gather to worship God. Forgetting, somehow, that the Healer we worship would care very much about those who have suffered and died from this dreaded disease.
This friend lost his partner to AIDS almost a quarter of a century ago. How his partner contracted AIDS is tangential to this discussion, but if somehow you are small enough to think that one person is less deserving of compassion than another because of the way they live their lives, I will mention the person happened to have acquired it from a transfusion.
And this is where my journey becomes painful. I know and love dearly many of the friends I have known within the conservative churches. But as long as you see the poor as parasites, I cannot walk with you. As long as you see those suffering from disease, pain and heartache as sinners unworthy of redemption, I cannot break bread with you. As long as you cannot, will not be the hands and feet of Christ, I must walk a different way. I will be accountable to God for my actions, but I believe this is right.
So without calling that friend out publicly on the blog, TB, if you read this, I want you to know that I love you and care for you. I ache with you and want you to know how deeply pained I am by your loss.
And I've listened to sermon after sermon about what it means to be holy; what it means to be Godly...and 90% of them have been absolutely right, yet absolutely wrong.
See, they focused on actions, they didn't focus on the heart. They didn't focus on what it means to be Christlike, to give EVERYTHING you have and are in worship. And they didn't (and don't) focus on the Fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23).
The current wave of politics has forced my hand. It's forced me to weigh what I know, and what I believe against what it means to be a true light in a world full of anger, of hate, of pain. But more than that, what it means to be a friend.
I won't lie; what I say next will further alienate me from people I know and love dearly. And that pains me. But not as much as seeing friends suffer alone when someone out there genuinely cares about them, about their hurts, and about their ambitions.
You see, the timing of this article was directly prompted by a friend who lamented the fact that it is the 25th anniversary of World AIDS Day, and it has gone unnoticed, even as the faithful gather to worship God. Forgetting, somehow, that the Healer we worship would care very much about those who have suffered and died from this dreaded disease.
This friend lost his partner to AIDS almost a quarter of a century ago. How his partner contracted AIDS is tangential to this discussion, but if somehow you are small enough to think that one person is less deserving of compassion than another because of the way they live their lives, I will mention the person happened to have acquired it from a transfusion.
And this is where my journey becomes painful. I know and love dearly many of the friends I have known within the conservative churches. But as long as you see the poor as parasites, I cannot walk with you. As long as you see those suffering from disease, pain and heartache as sinners unworthy of redemption, I cannot break bread with you. As long as you cannot, will not be the hands and feet of Christ, I must walk a different way. I will be accountable to God for my actions, but I believe this is right.
So without calling that friend out publicly on the blog, TB, if you read this, I want you to know that I love you and care for you. I ache with you and want you to know how deeply pained I am by your loss.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
0.27% Thankful!
For those who know us, we've tried the last several years to work towards a debt free existence. And, once the student loans are paid, we will accomplish that.
But even that has been a struggle. We've had to endure the critiques of those who feel our humble, yet paid for mobile home is "not good enough", or that the vehicles we drive (also paid for) do not "measure up". Today, in fact, my daughter got a well meaning but misguided text from a friend offering to sell her a car for a sum of money we don't currently have. The reason? She needs a "reliable" (read: prettier) vehicle. And while her current car isn't fancy, it's not the wreck that some seem to think it is.
And that really brings me to the crux of my frustration with the church. On the one hand, they're extolling the virtues of wealth building, while teaching workers to be content with wages falling against inflation and simultaneously failing to instill them with the principles that can help them find that contentment. They're not teaching families how to mend their own clothes, how to garden, how to gather and hunt, the kinds of things that working families knew how to do for thousands of years. They're encouraging the kind of runaway consumerism that's killing our culture...and then excoriating the faithful for not making enough to have everything that the culture expects them to have.
We are a culture that is 0.27% thankful. On one day a year, we consider ourselves thankful...and even that day is being eroded by consumerism as shoppers line up earlier and earlier to buy cheap goods that they don't even need! Driving the people who can least afford it dollar by dollar closer to bankruptcy.
True gratitude is not expressed when you're trying to get that latest gadget, the newer car, or the fancier house. True gratitude is expressed when you realize that you probably have enough, and should probably focus more on getting the most out of what you have.
Let's work to create a counterculture of 100% gratitude. One where, instead of focusing on building wealth, we focus on happiness, focus on community, and on our legacy. If you take care of the big things, the little things have a consistent way of falling into place.
But even that has been a struggle. We've had to endure the critiques of those who feel our humble, yet paid for mobile home is "not good enough", or that the vehicles we drive (also paid for) do not "measure up". Today, in fact, my daughter got a well meaning but misguided text from a friend offering to sell her a car for a sum of money we don't currently have. The reason? She needs a "reliable" (read: prettier) vehicle. And while her current car isn't fancy, it's not the wreck that some seem to think it is.
And that really brings me to the crux of my frustration with the church. On the one hand, they're extolling the virtues of wealth building, while teaching workers to be content with wages falling against inflation and simultaneously failing to instill them with the principles that can help them find that contentment. They're not teaching families how to mend their own clothes, how to garden, how to gather and hunt, the kinds of things that working families knew how to do for thousands of years. They're encouraging the kind of runaway consumerism that's killing our culture...and then excoriating the faithful for not making enough to have everything that the culture expects them to have.
We are a culture that is 0.27% thankful. On one day a year, we consider ourselves thankful...and even that day is being eroded by consumerism as shoppers line up earlier and earlier to buy cheap goods that they don't even need! Driving the people who can least afford it dollar by dollar closer to bankruptcy.
True gratitude is not expressed when you're trying to get that latest gadget, the newer car, or the fancier house. True gratitude is expressed when you realize that you probably have enough, and should probably focus more on getting the most out of what you have.
Let's work to create a counterculture of 100% gratitude. One where, instead of focusing on building wealth, we focus on happiness, focus on community, and on our legacy. If you take care of the big things, the little things have a consistent way of falling into place.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Being Christian, but post-"Church"
I am writing this in one of my "down" moods. Anyone with any type of social anxiety disorder will understand: it's that period when you need a lot of self talk just to confront the day to day tasks.
It's not exactly depression; it manifests differently, and it's easy to control, when you know how. But it's also something I've had to spend a lot of years learning how to control. Unfortunately, more often than not, WITHOUT the help of others.
And it's a large part of the reason I consider myself post church. This has had some pretty harsh consequences in the past when I didn't understand it, and one major turning point in our life came after I had discussed the issue with a pastor of a church we had attended for several years. He dismissed my concerns, I left a good job at the time with a lot of uncertainty (and the way I left, I left a lot of PTO days on the table), and ultimately we made the move out of the area. Not my best time. But it marked the first time I actually tried to reach out to someone.
When I came to Christ, I saw a lot of answers in the Bible. Building one another up, building a faith community, that sort of thing. None of us were meant to walk alone, none of us were meant to bear these burdens alone. It's hard to explain to someone why when you have everything you've always wanted you have to face nagging mountains of self doubt. Why sometimes you just can't pull yourself up by your own bootstraps.
I can't blame the church, of course, and I don't, for not meeting my needs. But it's not just my needs I see neglected. The church where I live is amazing in their ability to meet needs of single situations, and they've shown it time and time again. They truly are wonderful people, despite what outsiders think of their political views. But they're not being led, being taught, being nurtured to be proactive and to help each other out BEFORE these needs become pressing, last minute concerns. And as the sanctuaries empty out, there is more emphasis on multimedia, professional worship teams, and the spit and polish of Madison Avenue marketing.
Jesus didn't meet His followers on Madison Avenue, though. He met them at their boats, in their steets, up in trees, in their infirmaries, at the temple gates, and even in their graves. He ministered to them who they were and even in the depths of their depravity and depression. That's the Jesus I want to serve, not the Jesus who wants you to pile up mountains of debt in order to become a millionaire. That's the Jesus that's real, and that's the Jesus I find people on the streets wanting to worship.
THAT Jesus understands we aren't always on our A game. That Jesus understands our need for each other, our need to vent, and our need to rest. That Jesus wants us to unite in purpose and in common belief in Him, even if our worldly politics may differ. That Jesus is not impressed with the elaborate, showy offering of Cain or of the Pharisee, but of the simpler offering of Abel or of the poor widow.
And THAT Jesus will bring people back into your church, if you will allow HIM back in your church.
If I were the only one saying this, I'd be inclined to dismiss my feelings as just the social anxiety talking. But I've talked to the unchurched; I've talked to the agnostic, I've talked to the atheist, and I've heard them saying pretty much the same thing. Sure it's great to think that some fad prescription would suddenly erase all of these issues; but it's even greater, even more assuring to know that the Healer is more than capable, and He has commissioned His followers to be as well.
Think about this. I'm not criticizing the church for what it isn't; I am trying to exhort the church to be what God intended. Stop trying to be successful in the eyes of the world, and start trying to be successful in the eyes of God. Take care of the big things, and the little things will fall into place.
It's not exactly depression; it manifests differently, and it's easy to control, when you know how. But it's also something I've had to spend a lot of years learning how to control. Unfortunately, more often than not, WITHOUT the help of others.
And it's a large part of the reason I consider myself post church. This has had some pretty harsh consequences in the past when I didn't understand it, and one major turning point in our life came after I had discussed the issue with a pastor of a church we had attended for several years. He dismissed my concerns, I left a good job at the time with a lot of uncertainty (and the way I left, I left a lot of PTO days on the table), and ultimately we made the move out of the area. Not my best time. But it marked the first time I actually tried to reach out to someone.
When I came to Christ, I saw a lot of answers in the Bible. Building one another up, building a faith community, that sort of thing. None of us were meant to walk alone, none of us were meant to bear these burdens alone. It's hard to explain to someone why when you have everything you've always wanted you have to face nagging mountains of self doubt. Why sometimes you just can't pull yourself up by your own bootstraps.
I can't blame the church, of course, and I don't, for not meeting my needs. But it's not just my needs I see neglected. The church where I live is amazing in their ability to meet needs of single situations, and they've shown it time and time again. They truly are wonderful people, despite what outsiders think of their political views. But they're not being led, being taught, being nurtured to be proactive and to help each other out BEFORE these needs become pressing, last minute concerns. And as the sanctuaries empty out, there is more emphasis on multimedia, professional worship teams, and the spit and polish of Madison Avenue marketing.
Jesus didn't meet His followers on Madison Avenue, though. He met them at their boats, in their steets, up in trees, in their infirmaries, at the temple gates, and even in their graves. He ministered to them who they were and even in the depths of their depravity and depression. That's the Jesus I want to serve, not the Jesus who wants you to pile up mountains of debt in order to become a millionaire. That's the Jesus that's real, and that's the Jesus I find people on the streets wanting to worship.
THAT Jesus understands we aren't always on our A game. That Jesus understands our need for each other, our need to vent, and our need to rest. That Jesus wants us to unite in purpose and in common belief in Him, even if our worldly politics may differ. That Jesus is not impressed with the elaborate, showy offering of Cain or of the Pharisee, but of the simpler offering of Abel or of the poor widow.
And THAT Jesus will bring people back into your church, if you will allow HIM back in your church.
If I were the only one saying this, I'd be inclined to dismiss my feelings as just the social anxiety talking. But I've talked to the unchurched; I've talked to the agnostic, I've talked to the atheist, and I've heard them saying pretty much the same thing. Sure it's great to think that some fad prescription would suddenly erase all of these issues; but it's even greater, even more assuring to know that the Healer is more than capable, and He has commissioned His followers to be as well.
Think about this. I'm not criticizing the church for what it isn't; I am trying to exhort the church to be what God intended. Stop trying to be successful in the eyes of the world, and start trying to be successful in the eyes of God. Take care of the big things, and the little things will fall into place.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Stop Trying to "Fix" People and Start Trying to Help HEAL Them
I have a bit of confession to make, one that I've held back on for a lot of years, out of fear that I would somehow evoke the very demons I've tried and worked so long to suppress. But I'm comfortable enough with where I am now to reveal this one, in hopes that it might help someone else finding themselves on the same journey, and, possibly, help those who view me in a less than sympathetic light to better understand me.
Most people dislike bureaucracy; I HATE it. I can't stand it, I loathe it, and I cannot come to peace with it. And it isn't a matter of "WILL not"; after 43 years of existence, it's safe to say that if I haven't fixed it now despite fervent efforts on my part to try, I'm probably never going to.
I've missed countless important deadlines as a result, I've cost myself promotions and held myself back because of this. And, in my darker days, it was severe enough to where it led not to thoughts of suicide, but serious, deliberate plans. My only criteria were that it had to be nearly 100% reliable, and it had to look like an accident so that it didn't financially ruin my family. Fortunately, not being around large cliffs, I was unable to find anything suitable to meet both.
I grimace as I write this. It's not easy to discuss the darker sides of ourselves, and it's one reason why folks often don't seek out the support of others. If we don't discuss it, we feel like we are absolutely alone.
While I am loathe to self diagnose, I do fit a number of criteria for Asperger's. And our society being what it is, living this long with the things that haunt me would lead me to believe it's not worth the time and investment to get a professional diagnosis and treatment. I could spend tens of thousands of dollars that would be well spent elsewhere, because even if you have health care, it rarely covers issues like Asperger's.
And this is, frankly, the source of my frustration with the church and ultimate decision to become unchurched. We're called, we're COMMANDED to be healers, and somehow the churches that engage in that have interpreted that to mean laying on of hands, praying, and sending the person away. No fellowship, no discipleship, not one whit of what Jesus taught and modelled. Just a drop of olive oil, a prayer, and an exhortation to go on your merry way.
I don't know ultimately what the future will bring, but I can't help wondering about those who drift away from the church; how many of those out there are exactly like me? And how many times do pastors write them off as church hoppers and refuse to reach out?
Formulating deep and meaningful relationships is not an easy task for me. And when I DO bond, I feel a sense of betrayal when that bond is broken. But to try to convey that to others is next to impossible.
I would encourage you, then, to take your role as Christians seriously. It's not a social club, it's not a Sunday morning rock concert; it is and should be a place to heal and be healed. And not to be "fixed"!
Most people dislike bureaucracy; I HATE it. I can't stand it, I loathe it, and I cannot come to peace with it. And it isn't a matter of "WILL not"; after 43 years of existence, it's safe to say that if I haven't fixed it now despite fervent efforts on my part to try, I'm probably never going to.
I've missed countless important deadlines as a result, I've cost myself promotions and held myself back because of this. And, in my darker days, it was severe enough to where it led not to thoughts of suicide, but serious, deliberate plans. My only criteria were that it had to be nearly 100% reliable, and it had to look like an accident so that it didn't financially ruin my family. Fortunately, not being around large cliffs, I was unable to find anything suitable to meet both.
I grimace as I write this. It's not easy to discuss the darker sides of ourselves, and it's one reason why folks often don't seek out the support of others. If we don't discuss it, we feel like we are absolutely alone.
While I am loathe to self diagnose, I do fit a number of criteria for Asperger's. And our society being what it is, living this long with the things that haunt me would lead me to believe it's not worth the time and investment to get a professional diagnosis and treatment. I could spend tens of thousands of dollars that would be well spent elsewhere, because even if you have health care, it rarely covers issues like Asperger's.
And this is, frankly, the source of my frustration with the church and ultimate decision to become unchurched. We're called, we're COMMANDED to be healers, and somehow the churches that engage in that have interpreted that to mean laying on of hands, praying, and sending the person away. No fellowship, no discipleship, not one whit of what Jesus taught and modelled. Just a drop of olive oil, a prayer, and an exhortation to go on your merry way.
I don't know ultimately what the future will bring, but I can't help wondering about those who drift away from the church; how many of those out there are exactly like me? And how many times do pastors write them off as church hoppers and refuse to reach out?
Formulating deep and meaningful relationships is not an easy task for me. And when I DO bond, I feel a sense of betrayal when that bond is broken. But to try to convey that to others is next to impossible.
I would encourage you, then, to take your role as Christians seriously. It's not a social club, it's not a Sunday morning rock concert; it is and should be a place to heal and be healed. And not to be "fixed"!
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Why I Am Not in Church Today
So, basically, until/unless I find a church that I can honestly, truthfully call a church home, I am done with church attendance. I have thought about this long and hard, and don't like the idea of not fellowshipping with other believers, but I frankly see no other choice.
As I type this, Congress is mulling a bill that would cut food stamps for working families. For the 42nd time, they are desperately trying to defund the ACA, because they do not feel they should have to support it. An instead of denouncing these thugs, the church is CHEERING THEM ON!
I am done. I am through. This is not the Christ I serve, and I will not wear the banner of any church that believes it is acceptable to refuse to care for the poor, especially while we continue to fund large corporations, and war. I realize this puts me at odds with a lot of people, but that's a cross I am not only willing to bear, but have decided I must.
The evangelical church has taken the position that the church, not the government, should be responsible for caring for the poor. And they have done so not only without Scriptural support, but actually in defiance of it (Ezekial 16:49 mentions that the sin of Sodom was "pride and excess of food, while the poor and needy suffered outside her door. It mentions nothing about the responsibility of the Jewish people to do this, but rather of the responsibility og the government. Both Jonah and Nahum reference the lack of compassion of the people of Nineveh, and how it almost led to its destruction in the former book, and ultimately led to its destruction in the latter).
I have, for my part, remained silent on these matters because I have wrongly followed the advice of the leaders. It was advice I knew to be wrong, and advice I followed because I felt it necessary to fit in. In this blog I am publicly repenting my years of service to Mammon and to a church which has no desire to follow the living God. I realize that while I need money to survive, I must no longer serve money.
If you're willing to join with me in this cause, I welcome you and will fellowship with you. If you are not, I bless you and wish you a long and prosperous life. But as for me and my house...well, it's time for that to be more than just a cheesy cliche!
As I type this, Congress is mulling a bill that would cut food stamps for working families. For the 42nd time, they are desperately trying to defund the ACA, because they do not feel they should have to support it. An instead of denouncing these thugs, the church is CHEERING THEM ON!
I am done. I am through. This is not the Christ I serve, and I will not wear the banner of any church that believes it is acceptable to refuse to care for the poor, especially while we continue to fund large corporations, and war. I realize this puts me at odds with a lot of people, but that's a cross I am not only willing to bear, but have decided I must.
The evangelical church has taken the position that the church, not the government, should be responsible for caring for the poor. And they have done so not only without Scriptural support, but actually in defiance of it (Ezekial 16:49 mentions that the sin of Sodom was "pride and excess of food, while the poor and needy suffered outside her door. It mentions nothing about the responsibility of the Jewish people to do this, but rather of the responsibility og the government. Both Jonah and Nahum reference the lack of compassion of the people of Nineveh, and how it almost led to its destruction in the former book, and ultimately led to its destruction in the latter).
I have, for my part, remained silent on these matters because I have wrongly followed the advice of the leaders. It was advice I knew to be wrong, and advice I followed because I felt it necessary to fit in. In this blog I am publicly repenting my years of service to Mammon and to a church which has no desire to follow the living God. I realize that while I need money to survive, I must no longer serve money.
If you're willing to join with me in this cause, I welcome you and will fellowship with you. If you are not, I bless you and wish you a long and prosperous life. But as for me and my house...well, it's time for that to be more than just a cheesy cliche!
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
If You Can't Love ME, You'll Have a Hard Time Loving Others
It's been implied by people who genuinely care about me that I'm caustic. And it's not entirely an untrue charge. After twenty five years of rejection by my fellow Christians, I think that some level of irritation is probably pretty much in line.
My latest, and very likely last, attempt to "fit in" with a congregation put the icing on the cake. In 15 months with the church, we received exactly one invitation to fellowship with another group out of church, and that group is long gone. Not one of the "inner circle" so much as invited us over for a barbeque (with the exception of a birthday party for our six year old, but that's not really a family invitation).
And, more recently, I made a cold call to on of the prominent members of the church who used to be very warm to me (and had even suggested he had some IT work available). It seemed natural, now that I am freelancing, to follow up. He not only didn't return my calls, but called in another tech to bid on a very substantial job. I would have chalked it up to a message not passed on, only he admitted to the other tech that he knew I was working for myself and refused to work with me. That's the old Christian love coming out, I guess.
The truth is, if you can't love me, you'll have a hard time loving others. And I'm not saying this as a simple matter of judging others; I actually struggle intensely with this myself. I have had people approach me that I had a hard time accepting, and I admit, it's not easy.
But it IS possible. And not only possible, but commanded.
The truth is, if every person walking into a Christian church was treated with warmth and acceptance, there would't be such negativity. It has been said that Christianity is the only army that shoots its own wounded.
The "mainstream" church has basically written me off as a heretic. I'm OK with that; I know where I stand and really don't care what others think anymore. But I DO care about the image that those who claim to be standard bearers for the church are projecting on people who need the Gospel.
My latest, and very likely last, attempt to "fit in" with a congregation put the icing on the cake. In 15 months with the church, we received exactly one invitation to fellowship with another group out of church, and that group is long gone. Not one of the "inner circle" so much as invited us over for a barbeque (with the exception of a birthday party for our six year old, but that's not really a family invitation).
And, more recently, I made a cold call to on of the prominent members of the church who used to be very warm to me (and had even suggested he had some IT work available). It seemed natural, now that I am freelancing, to follow up. He not only didn't return my calls, but called in another tech to bid on a very substantial job. I would have chalked it up to a message not passed on, only he admitted to the other tech that he knew I was working for myself and refused to work with me. That's the old Christian love coming out, I guess.
The truth is, if you can't love me, you'll have a hard time loving others. And I'm not saying this as a simple matter of judging others; I actually struggle intensely with this myself. I have had people approach me that I had a hard time accepting, and I admit, it's not easy.
But it IS possible. And not only possible, but commanded.
The truth is, if every person walking into a Christian church was treated with warmth and acceptance, there would't be such negativity. It has been said that Christianity is the only army that shoots its own wounded.
The "mainstream" church has basically written me off as a heretic. I'm OK with that; I know where I stand and really don't care what others think anymore. But I DO care about the image that those who claim to be standard bearers for the church are projecting on people who need the Gospel.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Resignation
In the past few months, I've had people approach me with questions about where I'm headed spiritually. These are people I love and respect, but, really, how do you answer someone when you don't have words to express the feelings inside of you? I think I'm at a point, though, where I can say something.
I've spent ten years in this area. Ten long, ten sometimes wonderful, sometimes painful years. And I've visited a LOT of churches. And I've seen enough to say that what I've seen qualifies as typical of the area.
I'm tired of being in places where I don't belong. Tired of multimedia presentations, tired of laboring for elaborate worship, for the constant search for the bigger, the fancier, in order to woo congregants. I love technology, and see its usefulness, but when you put it ahead of ministry, you're kind of missing the point in the first place.
I'm tired of fellow church members accepting that our kids must drink and do drugs every weekend and giving up on pushing them to be better. Tired of them ignoring the issues such as teen pregnancy and tired of the lack of mentoring and discipleship set forth by Jesus at every level. Tired of telling our kids to aim for mediocrity rather than excellence, and tired of seeing the church give in to the popular culture.
The fact that I have been pretty soundly criticized for pointing this out in the past makes it painfully clear that the majority in the church, in this area, at least, WANT this. They are comfortable with it. They've become accepting of compromise as the only way, and they've forgotten their duty to their fellow sojourners and to the community.
We're called to be salt and light, yet I see no salt. I see no light. I see NO DISTINCTION between 95% of the church members I know and the rest of the world (to the 5% that are an exception, I thank you; unfortunately, I hear some of the frustration in your voices as well).
Church is not about numbers. It's not about the dollars in the offering plate. It's about an expressive faith in God lived out in action. The church in this region, by and large, has little interest in feeding the poor. As a matter of fact, many have openly expressed their belief that we treat the poor TOO well. They claim to be pro life, yet they have no problem with children who live in poverty being denied health care and food because of that poverty. This is not only wrong, it's the gravest of sins (see Ezekial 16:49).
I realize my words will not be accepted by many who read this. I realize that they will feel I'm being judgmental, being harsh, and being confrontational. And that, in a nutshell, is why I'm stepping away. Because I'm willing to accept that maybe the problem is me. And I'm equally willing to accept that because this is so in line with my core beliefs, it's not going to change. And that in the church, as expressed in the area where I live, there is no room for me.
I've spent ten years in this area. Ten long, ten sometimes wonderful, sometimes painful years. And I've visited a LOT of churches. And I've seen enough to say that what I've seen qualifies as typical of the area.
I'm tired of being in places where I don't belong. Tired of multimedia presentations, tired of laboring for elaborate worship, for the constant search for the bigger, the fancier, in order to woo congregants. I love technology, and see its usefulness, but when you put it ahead of ministry, you're kind of missing the point in the first place.
I'm tired of fellow church members accepting that our kids must drink and do drugs every weekend and giving up on pushing them to be better. Tired of them ignoring the issues such as teen pregnancy and tired of the lack of mentoring and discipleship set forth by Jesus at every level. Tired of telling our kids to aim for mediocrity rather than excellence, and tired of seeing the church give in to the popular culture.
The fact that I have been pretty soundly criticized for pointing this out in the past makes it painfully clear that the majority in the church, in this area, at least, WANT this. They are comfortable with it. They've become accepting of compromise as the only way, and they've forgotten their duty to their fellow sojourners and to the community.
We're called to be salt and light, yet I see no salt. I see no light. I see NO DISTINCTION between 95% of the church members I know and the rest of the world (to the 5% that are an exception, I thank you; unfortunately, I hear some of the frustration in your voices as well).
Church is not about numbers. It's not about the dollars in the offering plate. It's about an expressive faith in God lived out in action. The church in this region, by and large, has little interest in feeding the poor. As a matter of fact, many have openly expressed their belief that we treat the poor TOO well. They claim to be pro life, yet they have no problem with children who live in poverty being denied health care and food because of that poverty. This is not only wrong, it's the gravest of sins (see Ezekial 16:49).
I realize my words will not be accepted by many who read this. I realize that they will feel I'm being judgmental, being harsh, and being confrontational. And that, in a nutshell, is why I'm stepping away. Because I'm willing to accept that maybe the problem is me. And I'm equally willing to accept that because this is so in line with my core beliefs, it's not going to change. And that in the church, as expressed in the area where I live, there is no room for me.
Sunday, August 18, 2013
The Last Temptation of the Church
I've been wrestling back and forth over whether to write this article or not. I've finally decided it's what I MUST do. It will cost me friends, and it will definitely damage certain earnings prospects, but it's an honest and painful truth, and it must be said. As Jesus said in Matthew 10:34, "I come not to bring peace, but a sword."
I accepted Christ in 1988, and have NO QUESTION about the validity of Jesus Christ, or of my faith. But there is an increasingly growing divide between where the church is going and where they are called to go! Churches focus on numbers, they focus on multimedia systems, each trying to outdo the other with elaborate music numbers. They've made ministry a position of privilege, and they pushed aside many with the desire to minister because it didn't fit with the branded image of the church.
A branding that was built not on the Word of God, but on Wall Street. A branding built to make their church a highly successful venture. One that has led many to add bookstores and latte bars.
Those who advocate social change are called socialists, and worse. Those who talk about serving the poor are told that the poor are parasites and that feeding them is the same as feeding strays, that they should be starved out of existence. This in OPEN defiance of the admonitions found in the end of Matthew 25. The church has, to put it simply, become a church that served mammon. A church that put material needs around serving the community.
To be fair, not every church is like this. But I will say that in my journey and travels, easily 80-90% of the self described "evangelical churches" are. And the poison found in books like "The Purpose Driven Life" and "The Prayer of Jabez" has caused many well intentioned Christians to abandon service to their community in pursuit of mammon. The church has filled her pulpits with false prophets.
The change in the church eerily echoes the final temptation of Jesus in the wilderness. Satan offers Jesus everything if Jesus will only fall down and worship him.
The church has taken the bait. I, for my own part, have taken the bait. It's time that we repent, come back to God, and abandon the materialism that has driven us. The world needs us; they do not need a bunch of self serving fools with Hillsong CD's.
If this causes us to part ways, I understand, and God Bless. But I have said what must be said.
I accepted Christ in 1988, and have NO QUESTION about the validity of Jesus Christ, or of my faith. But there is an increasingly growing divide between where the church is going and where they are called to go! Churches focus on numbers, they focus on multimedia systems, each trying to outdo the other with elaborate music numbers. They've made ministry a position of privilege, and they pushed aside many with the desire to minister because it didn't fit with the branded image of the church.
A branding that was built not on the Word of God, but on Wall Street. A branding built to make their church a highly successful venture. One that has led many to add bookstores and latte bars.
Those who advocate social change are called socialists, and worse. Those who talk about serving the poor are told that the poor are parasites and that feeding them is the same as feeding strays, that they should be starved out of existence. This in OPEN defiance of the admonitions found in the end of Matthew 25. The church has, to put it simply, become a church that served mammon. A church that put material needs around serving the community.
To be fair, not every church is like this. But I will say that in my journey and travels, easily 80-90% of the self described "evangelical churches" are. And the poison found in books like "The Purpose Driven Life" and "The Prayer of Jabez" has caused many well intentioned Christians to abandon service to their community in pursuit of mammon. The church has filled her pulpits with false prophets.
The change in the church eerily echoes the final temptation of Jesus in the wilderness. Satan offers Jesus everything if Jesus will only fall down and worship him.
The church has taken the bait. I, for my own part, have taken the bait. It's time that we repent, come back to God, and abandon the materialism that has driven us. The world needs us; they do not need a bunch of self serving fools with Hillsong CD's.
If this causes us to part ways, I understand, and God Bless. But I have said what must be said.
Monday, March 11, 2013
So, When Do We Start Addressing the Whole God/Mammon Thing?
I've been a Christian for a lot of years. More years, in fact, than I was a nonChristian. But one thing I've found, one constant that seems to follow me from church to church, is the sheer refusal to follow Christ's admonition in Matthew 6:24 that you "cannot serve both God and Mammon". It hasn't been a reluctance; it has been a brazen, open recalcitrance to follow a passage of Scripture that cannot be translated out, even as they demand nonChristians follow passages that CAN be translated in a different manner.
I remember some years ago talking with an individual who proposed an intentional living community; a self sustaining village that he had envisioned. I pressed him for more of course, and as it turned out, the buy in was $60,000. Basically, to shed yourself of the need for wealth, you still needed to possess a reasonable share of it.
One of the biggest mistakes I have made as a Christian was in following the crowd because I hoped that somehow I would fit in with the crowd. That has put us in our present position, one which we are digging furiously to escape, but which will take some time and strategizing. It has in no small way compromised my health and certainly my happiness, as it has powerfully limited my ability to minister, something that's far more important than anything I could grind out on a mill.
But what frustrates me is being in a culture where the church thinks the absolute opposite. Where serving Mammon is considered to be a kind of Godliness, and where setting ministry aside for money is valued as a virtue. I'm not talking about meeting financial obligations; the Bible is clear that we owe those (which is why I'm working to get out from under them), but I AM talking about all of the extras we consider a part of our every day life.
Once we get free from our debt, one of the first things I want to do is to work to teach families how to transition "off the grid" so that they can live as God intended; serving Him and not the almighty dollar. But I'm running out of hope that there is a critical mass of fellow Christians interested in the same.
I remember some years ago talking with an individual who proposed an intentional living community; a self sustaining village that he had envisioned. I pressed him for more of course, and as it turned out, the buy in was $60,000. Basically, to shed yourself of the need for wealth, you still needed to possess a reasonable share of it.
One of the biggest mistakes I have made as a Christian was in following the crowd because I hoped that somehow I would fit in with the crowd. That has put us in our present position, one which we are digging furiously to escape, but which will take some time and strategizing. It has in no small way compromised my health and certainly my happiness, as it has powerfully limited my ability to minister, something that's far more important than anything I could grind out on a mill.
But what frustrates me is being in a culture where the church thinks the absolute opposite. Where serving Mammon is considered to be a kind of Godliness, and where setting ministry aside for money is valued as a virtue. I'm not talking about meeting financial obligations; the Bible is clear that we owe those (which is why I'm working to get out from under them), but I AM talking about all of the extras we consider a part of our every day life.
Once we get free from our debt, one of the first things I want to do is to work to teach families how to transition "off the grid" so that they can live as God intended; serving Him and not the almighty dollar. But I'm running out of hope that there is a critical mass of fellow Christians interested in the same.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Learning to be a Friend
It sounds a little crazy, but of all of the things I have had to learn in life, learning to become a friend was really the hardest.
I have always been antisocial, sometimes decidedly so. Although I talk a good deal, it's really more a defense mechanism. Talking about trivial things insulates me from having questions asked about the things that matter, the things that mean something. And in growing up, the social side of things was often ignored.
I remember the day, the very moment, when I realized just how important a skill that was to learn. A friend in our small church fellowship passed away, and although I didn't know them, I had to call, I had to comfort. It was a pressing need. I looked through the phone book, and I called his widow, and in the background (words obviously not intended for my ears), I heard the response of one of her friends who was with her as they passed the phone: "How did HE get this number?"
I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me right there. I wanted so much to be a voice of comfort, yet I was not. I was a nuisance, an annoyance at the very worst possible time.
I could relay other incidents too, but the major point is, in my quest to be what the world considered a success, I abandoned what was truly important. A few years ago, at my 20th high school reunion, I saw an individual that had once been a friend; not a close one, but honestly about as close as any I really had in those days. When I left Enid High at the youthful age of 18, I burned every bridge behind me, and consigned those relationships to the past.
That friend, sadly, is now dead, having taken her life earlier this year. And I will probably long be haunted by the question that, if I had been a better friend, I possibly could have provided shelter from the storms that ultimately claimed her.
A conversation I remember from my younger (and more foolish) days, followed the question of regrets. I said then that I intended to live a life without regrets, and to this day, I still hold to that position. Because, while I can't bring back those stolen moments, while I can't return the life of that friend who was taken from this world to her family, I have nonetheless learned a great deal from those mistakes, a lesson that shapes my interactions in the present and will shape my interactions in the future.
But that won't shake that haunting voice in the wee small hours of the night that force me to ask what could have been.
I have always been antisocial, sometimes decidedly so. Although I talk a good deal, it's really more a defense mechanism. Talking about trivial things insulates me from having questions asked about the things that matter, the things that mean something. And in growing up, the social side of things was often ignored.
I remember the day, the very moment, when I realized just how important a skill that was to learn. A friend in our small church fellowship passed away, and although I didn't know them, I had to call, I had to comfort. It was a pressing need. I looked through the phone book, and I called his widow, and in the background (words obviously not intended for my ears), I heard the response of one of her friends who was with her as they passed the phone: "How did HE get this number?"
I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me right there. I wanted so much to be a voice of comfort, yet I was not. I was a nuisance, an annoyance at the very worst possible time.
I could relay other incidents too, but the major point is, in my quest to be what the world considered a success, I abandoned what was truly important. A few years ago, at my 20th high school reunion, I saw an individual that had once been a friend; not a close one, but honestly about as close as any I really had in those days. When I left Enid High at the youthful age of 18, I burned every bridge behind me, and consigned those relationships to the past.
That friend, sadly, is now dead, having taken her life earlier this year. And I will probably long be haunted by the question that, if I had been a better friend, I possibly could have provided shelter from the storms that ultimately claimed her.
A conversation I remember from my younger (and more foolish) days, followed the question of regrets. I said then that I intended to live a life without regrets, and to this day, I still hold to that position. Because, while I can't bring back those stolen moments, while I can't return the life of that friend who was taken from this world to her family, I have nonetheless learned a great deal from those mistakes, a lesson that shapes my interactions in the present and will shape my interactions in the future.
But that won't shake that haunting voice in the wee small hours of the night that force me to ask what could have been.
The Cost of Discipleship
For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish. And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?”(Esther 4:14, ESV)
I don't believe that it is at all arrogance to believe that we were born for a purpose, born to serve something larger than ourselves. And I've long wondered when it would be premature to discuss openly the direction in which I firmly feel my footsteps are being led, where conviction and circumstance have conspired to give me traction. And I believe, after reading through Eric Metaxas' biography of Deitrich Bonoeffer, that the time is now.
Through the last few years, I have watched as the workers of the world are villainized, are called parasites, accused of not paying their fair share, and, in the case of my undocumented brothers and sisters in labor, of stealing from the American worker. The lies of the leaders of this fair land should not continue to go unchallenged, and those of us who know better MUST speak out. If not me, who? If not now, when?
It has long been said that "well behaved women rarely make history". Well, I'll take it a step further and say that "well behaved ANYONE rarely makes history". If you march in the rank and file, you only allow unjustice to continue unchecked. And unjustice is the birthright for far too many.
My years in labor have led me from the kitchens of many fine restaurants, through the factories, the dusty underground mines, and the hot summer sun of the Mojave Desert, and to my current position of relative comfort. In all of those places, I have certainly found people who could be described as "slackers"; in NONE of those places was "slacker" a standard employed by even the plurality of those workers.
Understanding, as you must, that I have a committed pledge to nonviolence, I commit everything I have to speaking for the workers, to aiding their cause in obtaining fair pay, fair housing, food and healthcare, and to actively opposing those who would deny them these dues, which are owed to them by those who steal their wealth for their own private comfort.
I may be a lone voice, and I may die a lone voice, but I speak from conviction, and that is a position I will not surrender. The cost of discipleship is one I am willing to pay from this day forward, even if it costs me comfort in this world.
I don't believe that it is at all arrogance to believe that we were born for a purpose, born to serve something larger than ourselves. And I've long wondered when it would be premature to discuss openly the direction in which I firmly feel my footsteps are being led, where conviction and circumstance have conspired to give me traction. And I believe, after reading through Eric Metaxas' biography of Deitrich Bonoeffer, that the time is now.
Through the last few years, I have watched as the workers of the world are villainized, are called parasites, accused of not paying their fair share, and, in the case of my undocumented brothers and sisters in labor, of stealing from the American worker. The lies of the leaders of this fair land should not continue to go unchallenged, and those of us who know better MUST speak out. If not me, who? If not now, when?
It has long been said that "well behaved women rarely make history". Well, I'll take it a step further and say that "well behaved ANYONE rarely makes history". If you march in the rank and file, you only allow unjustice to continue unchecked. And unjustice is the birthright for far too many.
My years in labor have led me from the kitchens of many fine restaurants, through the factories, the dusty underground mines, and the hot summer sun of the Mojave Desert, and to my current position of relative comfort. In all of those places, I have certainly found people who could be described as "slackers"; in NONE of those places was "slacker" a standard employed by even the plurality of those workers.
Understanding, as you must, that I have a committed pledge to nonviolence, I commit everything I have to speaking for the workers, to aiding their cause in obtaining fair pay, fair housing, food and healthcare, and to actively opposing those who would deny them these dues, which are owed to them by those who steal their wealth for their own private comfort.
I may be a lone voice, and I may die a lone voice, but I speak from conviction, and that is a position I will not surrender. The cost of discipleship is one I am willing to pay from this day forward, even if it costs me comfort in this world.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Why I support fair wages
In my years as a Christian, I've noticed that the line between what constitutes a "liberal" or a "conservative" is a rather complex one. I have not met a single person who exclusively fits the mold of either standard; while they lean one way or another, they have certain beliefs that "cross over" to the other direction, sometimes radically so. This is because thinking people choose their beliefs based on reasoned though, not based on how it fits into a stereotype.
When it comes to the issue of wages, I could well be described as a liberal, and I am unapologetically so, for a number of reasons that will shortly be made clear.
While I abhor the attempts to politicize Jesus Christ, to make him into some kind of holy politician, there is no doubt that he stood on the side of the working folk. He often spoke of the poor, and He often spoke of the wealthy in terms that suggested that the pursuit of wealth (although not necessarily the mere possession of it) was in direct conflict with the role of being His disciple. "No man can serve two masters" is fairly clear, as is the admonition to the wealthy young ruler to sell everything to follow Jesus. Add to this the Lukean Beatitudes, which specifically castigate the rich, as they have received their reward, and the call to social justice becomes rather clear. I'm holding off of a lengthier discussion, as I am working on a lengthier treatise that will delve more deeply into the scriptural side of things.
But as we look at the social and political climate, we see a culture heading towards a conflict. The rewards of nonproductivity are nearing the point where they begin to exceed the rewards of productivity for the poorer workers. In short, financially, you are almost better off living off of benefits and government programs than you are in working to improve your financial situation. Never mind the matter of principle; principle does not put food on the table.
If a company, or an individual, profits off of the labor of an individual, one should not need a Bible, a Torah, or a Qu'ran to tell them that it is only reasonable to compensate that individual for the wealth they produce. ANYTHING LESS than full, just compensation for services is slavery, and any pastor, any Christian, any individual that condones it is complicit in the unjust subjugation of the poor. Such complicity is not only unethical, it is the very basest sort of evil.
We can debate the specifics of a fair wage policy, and to debate that is fair, but one thing is certain: if full time employment is inadequate to meet the financial needs of a family in a given community, they are not being justly compensated, and the call to change that must be so loud and so pervasive that it cannot be ignored. If the church and the community would issue that call, if they would stand up and boycott the industries that refuse to pay a fair and just wage, then there would be no nee for government intervention. But when we're walking in the doors of the churcchhouse with iPhones built in factories equipped with nets to prevent employees from jumping to their deaths, when we're plying them with coffee picked in fields where the workers are exploited, then the government has a responsibility to step in and insist that certain standards are adhered to.
In the same way speeding must be regulated to prevent people from driving at speeds that endanger other driveways, business must be regulated to prevent corporations from maintaining wages and working conditions that oppress the worker. If the church doesn't want to see such regulation, the church must step in and take the lead in ensuring such government intervention is unnecessary.
The reason the church is so roundly castigated by its critics is because the church refuses to be the agent for social change. There are notable exceptions to this rule, but the churches that are actually being well attended are the churches who neglected that call a long time ago.
And so if you must label me a liberal based on my support for fair wage and workplace equality, then I am proud to accept that label, even as I personally know it is wholly inaccurate. It is far past time to call for fairness in the workforce and I personally am proud to take an active role in doing so.
When it comes to the issue of wages, I could well be described as a liberal, and I am unapologetically so, for a number of reasons that will shortly be made clear.
While I abhor the attempts to politicize Jesus Christ, to make him into some kind of holy politician, there is no doubt that he stood on the side of the working folk. He often spoke of the poor, and He often spoke of the wealthy in terms that suggested that the pursuit of wealth (although not necessarily the mere possession of it) was in direct conflict with the role of being His disciple. "No man can serve two masters" is fairly clear, as is the admonition to the wealthy young ruler to sell everything to follow Jesus. Add to this the Lukean Beatitudes, which specifically castigate the rich, as they have received their reward, and the call to social justice becomes rather clear. I'm holding off of a lengthier discussion, as I am working on a lengthier treatise that will delve more deeply into the scriptural side of things.
But as we look at the social and political climate, we see a culture heading towards a conflict. The rewards of nonproductivity are nearing the point where they begin to exceed the rewards of productivity for the poorer workers. In short, financially, you are almost better off living off of benefits and government programs than you are in working to improve your financial situation. Never mind the matter of principle; principle does not put food on the table.
If a company, or an individual, profits off of the labor of an individual, one should not need a Bible, a Torah, or a Qu'ran to tell them that it is only reasonable to compensate that individual for the wealth they produce. ANYTHING LESS than full, just compensation for services is slavery, and any pastor, any Christian, any individual that condones it is complicit in the unjust subjugation of the poor. Such complicity is not only unethical, it is the very basest sort of evil.
We can debate the specifics of a fair wage policy, and to debate that is fair, but one thing is certain: if full time employment is inadequate to meet the financial needs of a family in a given community, they are not being justly compensated, and the call to change that must be so loud and so pervasive that it cannot be ignored. If the church and the community would issue that call, if they would stand up and boycott the industries that refuse to pay a fair and just wage, then there would be no nee for government intervention. But when we're walking in the doors of the churcchhouse with iPhones built in factories equipped with nets to prevent employees from jumping to their deaths, when we're plying them with coffee picked in fields where the workers are exploited, then the government has a responsibility to step in and insist that certain standards are adhered to.
In the same way speeding must be regulated to prevent people from driving at speeds that endanger other driveways, business must be regulated to prevent corporations from maintaining wages and working conditions that oppress the worker. If the church doesn't want to see such regulation, the church must step in and take the lead in ensuring such government intervention is unnecessary.
The reason the church is so roundly castigated by its critics is because the church refuses to be the agent for social change. There are notable exceptions to this rule, but the churches that are actually being well attended are the churches who neglected that call a long time ago.
And so if you must label me a liberal based on my support for fair wage and workplace equality, then I am proud to accept that label, even as I personally know it is wholly inaccurate. It is far past time to call for fairness in the workforce and I personally am proud to take an active role in doing so.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Lori (Kirtley) Wilson: Requiem
It was with great sadness that I heard from a friend that a teacher from childhood had passed, a lady that I knew as Lori Kirtley. Coming very close on the heels of the news of the suicide of a high school classmate, this gave me pause to think about the role that Lori had played in saving me from a similar tragic fate. I'd like to take a few moments to share what she meant to me.
There are a few people whose lives intersect with our own, whose footprints carve a path through the untamed and often frightening wilderness that lies ahead of us. They inspire us to greater heights, to journey to places where angels fear to tread, and to find our own inner strengths to battle the tumultuous storms that attack us frequently through life.
Lori Wilson was just such a person. I met her through a time in life when I didn't have much else, and she was one of a very small group of people that I allowed in to the anger and frustration that was a part of my adolescent existence. For four formative years, I called her my teacher, my mentor, and my friend, though I only had a vague understanding of what those latter two words meant.
In my junior year, I worked as an aide in the library, and my journey of self discovery was in its infancy. Mrs. Wilson and I would discuss dreams and their interpretation, the troubles of adolescence, and life in general. She was there without judgment, without the anger and frustration I met with more than a few of the adults in my life, and without condescension, to teach, to guide, to correct, and to encourage me, having the wisdom and tenacity to apply each when it was appropriate. She taught me to dream beyond the dusty wheatfields of my Northwest Oklahoma home, and to see a vision greater than my narrow 17 year old's existence. While others taught me how to read, she taught me to savor the words of the great writers like a rich food or a fine wine, and, in some small way, how to craft them. She never directed me, but she gently pointed the way as I headed out into the next chapter of my life.
But the reason she is and always will be near and dear to my heart is because in a dark time, she was a beacon of light. There were others, of course, but precious few that I trusted, and Lori was one of the few that understood enough to keep me from surrendering to the dark thoughts that often filled my mind during that very, sometimes impossibly difficult time. She gave me hope when I had none and she set my compass to aim for the stars.
When we think of greatness, we think of people who changed the world, people who moved mountains, and brought hope to the hopeless. Lori Wilson did all of those things in the life of at least one young teenager. My world as I know it would not have existed without her, and with her guidance the mountains of bitterness and the world of hopelessness and despair slowly dissolved to allow me to become the husband, the father, and the person I am today. Lori's was a life well lived, and a legacy we should all be honored to have. I hope her family remembers her not only fondly, but proudly for the lives she molded. Thank you, Lori Kirtley. You truly were (and are) the wind beneath my wings.
There are a few people whose lives intersect with our own, whose footprints carve a path through the untamed and often frightening wilderness that lies ahead of us. They inspire us to greater heights, to journey to places where angels fear to tread, and to find our own inner strengths to battle the tumultuous storms that attack us frequently through life.
Lori Wilson was just such a person. I met her through a time in life when I didn't have much else, and she was one of a very small group of people that I allowed in to the anger and frustration that was a part of my adolescent existence. For four formative years, I called her my teacher, my mentor, and my friend, though I only had a vague understanding of what those latter two words meant.
In my junior year, I worked as an aide in the library, and my journey of self discovery was in its infancy. Mrs. Wilson and I would discuss dreams and their interpretation, the troubles of adolescence, and life in general. She was there without judgment, without the anger and frustration I met with more than a few of the adults in my life, and without condescension, to teach, to guide, to correct, and to encourage me, having the wisdom and tenacity to apply each when it was appropriate. She taught me to dream beyond the dusty wheatfields of my Northwest Oklahoma home, and to see a vision greater than my narrow 17 year old's existence. While others taught me how to read, she taught me to savor the words of the great writers like a rich food or a fine wine, and, in some small way, how to craft them. She never directed me, but she gently pointed the way as I headed out into the next chapter of my life.
But the reason she is and always will be near and dear to my heart is because in a dark time, she was a beacon of light. There were others, of course, but precious few that I trusted, and Lori was one of the few that understood enough to keep me from surrendering to the dark thoughts that often filled my mind during that very, sometimes impossibly difficult time. She gave me hope when I had none and she set my compass to aim for the stars.
When we think of greatness, we think of people who changed the world, people who moved mountains, and brought hope to the hopeless. Lori Wilson did all of those things in the life of at least one young teenager. My world as I know it would not have existed without her, and with her guidance the mountains of bitterness and the world of hopelessness and despair slowly dissolved to allow me to become the husband, the father, and the person I am today. Lori's was a life well lived, and a legacy we should all be honored to have. I hope her family remembers her not only fondly, but proudly for the lives she molded. Thank you, Lori Kirtley. You truly were (and are) the wind beneath my wings.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
The Reason the Conservative Church Turns Me Off
This is one of those blogs I've debated writing because parts of it are intensely personal, and because I don't feel I should need to answer for why I have such contempt for the conservative church. But I have friends who are part of that church, and I feel it only fair to help them understand that my frustration is not targetted against individuals, but rather the institution; and that it is quite well founded.
I had gotten over and accepted the fact that I would not be a full member of the Baptist churches in the Texas Panhandle. Although I was baptized in a Baptist church, I wasn't baptized SOUTHERN Baptist, and they didn't feel it counted (sidenote: Emo Phillips has a TERRIFIC routine on this very topic that's worth checking out!). In addition, they would not baptize my daughter, despite her request to be baptized. Since they pretty much consider baptism into the faith essential, that tells you something right there.
We'd dealt with them in a nearby town and learned they could be truly horrible people, but nothing prepared me for what I, at this point at least, hope will be my last experience with a Baptist church. I had been working very hard to work my way up the food chain and build a better life for my family, and was working at pittance wages to manage the network at a school district. That January, I got extremely, unimaginably sick. It turns out it was "just" Type II diabetes, but there was a stretch during which I had very real reasons to fear lymphoma. I was going broke with the school gig, and fast.
So when I got a very nice job offer about 200 miles away, I was very excited. The plan was simple: I would move up, prepare to relocate, and drive home on the weekends, The kids would finish out the school year, and that would give us time to find a decent house.
But the Baptist church had other plans. No sooner did I pull out of the driveway than they called CPS with allegations that we were neglecting our kids. The CPS worker investigated, saw nothing wrong with the house, but was concerned that we didn't have a furnace. We were left with instructions to remedy this and asked to call CDSA.
The problem is, CDSA doesn't do furnaces, and even if they did, there's no way we could have it installed before winter was out. Basically, our choices were to either surrender the children temporarily or go ahead and move them up ahead of schedule. To top it off, if we stayed with the original plan, the drive back and forth for court appearances could well have jeopardized my new job. This choice was put upon us by a church that pretend to care for us.
The move was brutal. We had to take out signature loans at VERY high interest rates to make it, and the only rental available was a local motel at $500 a week. We spent 2 months there, and still could not find a suitable rental; settling for temporary housing in a small 2 bedroom house (try THAT with 7 kids!)
| Our local church was a blessing, and helped us out on a couple of occasions, although it was unsolicited on our part. But for that first six months, our housing expenses were nearly $10,000. All because the Baptist church we had left forced our hand.
I have nothing against conservative Christians; in fact, I love them and agree with them on a good number of issues. But I've personally experienced enough hate from their ranks to last a lifetime. And if I have to choose between that and someone who is loving, even if I disagree with some of their theology, I'll choose the loving one any day of the week.
I had gotten over and accepted the fact that I would not be a full member of the Baptist churches in the Texas Panhandle. Although I was baptized in a Baptist church, I wasn't baptized SOUTHERN Baptist, and they didn't feel it counted (sidenote: Emo Phillips has a TERRIFIC routine on this very topic that's worth checking out!). In addition, they would not baptize my daughter, despite her request to be baptized. Since they pretty much consider baptism into the faith essential, that tells you something right there.
We'd dealt with them in a nearby town and learned they could be truly horrible people, but nothing prepared me for what I, at this point at least, hope will be my last experience with a Baptist church. I had been working very hard to work my way up the food chain and build a better life for my family, and was working at pittance wages to manage the network at a school district. That January, I got extremely, unimaginably sick. It turns out it was "just" Type II diabetes, but there was a stretch during which I had very real reasons to fear lymphoma. I was going broke with the school gig, and fast.
So when I got a very nice job offer about 200 miles away, I was very excited. The plan was simple: I would move up, prepare to relocate, and drive home on the weekends, The kids would finish out the school year, and that would give us time to find a decent house.
But the Baptist church had other plans. No sooner did I pull out of the driveway than they called CPS with allegations that we were neglecting our kids. The CPS worker investigated, saw nothing wrong with the house, but was concerned that we didn't have a furnace. We were left with instructions to remedy this and asked to call CDSA.
The problem is, CDSA doesn't do furnaces, and even if they did, there's no way we could have it installed before winter was out. Basically, our choices were to either surrender the children temporarily or go ahead and move them up ahead of schedule. To top it off, if we stayed with the original plan, the drive back and forth for court appearances could well have jeopardized my new job. This choice was put upon us by a church that pretend to care for us.
The move was brutal. We had to take out signature loans at VERY high interest rates to make it, and the only rental available was a local motel at $500 a week. We spent 2 months there, and still could not find a suitable rental; settling for temporary housing in a small 2 bedroom house (try THAT with 7 kids!)
| Our local church was a blessing, and helped us out on a couple of occasions, although it was unsolicited on our part. But for that first six months, our housing expenses were nearly $10,000. All because the Baptist church we had left forced our hand.
I have nothing against conservative Christians; in fact, I love them and agree with them on a good number of issues. But I've personally experienced enough hate from their ranks to last a lifetime. And if I have to choose between that and someone who is loving, even if I disagree with some of their theology, I'll choose the loving one any day of the week.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Sign the Petition to Make Ending Homelessness a Priority!
One of my concerns with the present administration is that they are concerned with economic issues that benefit the upper and middle classes, with gun control, with health care, but not with issues such as homelessness that occur longterm cost and create a significant economic burden.
I believe that eliminating homelessness should not only be a priority, but should be addressed by the White House on a five year plan. Previous attempts to address this on a state and local level have only resulted in the homeless migrating to new locales that are friendlier to the homeless, thus kicking the can down the road.
The Coalition for the Homeless presents some sobering statistics. I've presented a few of them below. More can be found at the CFH website (Coalition for the Homeless):
-- Over the course of a year, the odds of experiencing homelessness for a person in the general US population are 1 in 194;>br>
-- for a person discharged from prison or jail, the odds are 1 in 13;
-- for a person living doubled-up (living with friends, family or other nonrelatives for economic reasons), the odds are 1 in 12;
-- and for a person who has aged out of foster care, the odds are 1 in 11.
-- Although the national homeless population decreased, the homeless population increased in 24 of 50 states plus the District of Columbia.
--The average real income of the working poor increased slightly from $9,300 in 2009 to about $9,400 in 2010.
-- However, there’s not a single county in the nation where a family with an average annual income of $9,400 can afford fair market rent for a one-bedroom unit.
--The number of poor households which pay more than 50% of their income on rent increased 22% from 2007 to 2010.
-- Nationally, 1 out of every 45 housing units had a foreclosure in 2010, a more than 100% increase from 2007.
I have decided, laptop in hand, to create a White House petition on the site now infamous for the secession and Death Star petitions. I need 100,000 signatures to merit a White House response, a total I believe I can reach with your help. If hundreds of thousands can "vote" to secede, of tens of thousands can "vote" for the construction of a Death Star, surely 100,000 can vote on a five year plan to end homelessness.
With effort, we can once again become the greatest nation in the world. But we'll only do it by remembering to care for "the least of these". (Petition site: )
I believe that eliminating homelessness should not only be a priority, but should be addressed by the White House on a five year plan. Previous attempts to address this on a state and local level have only resulted in the homeless migrating to new locales that are friendlier to the homeless, thus kicking the can down the road.
The Coalition for the Homeless presents some sobering statistics. I've presented a few of them below. More can be found at the CFH website (Coalition for the Homeless):
-- Over the course of a year, the odds of experiencing homelessness for a person in the general US population are 1 in 194;>br>
-- for a person discharged from prison or jail, the odds are 1 in 13;
-- for a person living doubled-up (living with friends, family or other nonrelatives for economic reasons), the odds are 1 in 12;
-- and for a person who has aged out of foster care, the odds are 1 in 11.
-- Although the national homeless population decreased, the homeless population increased in 24 of 50 states plus the District of Columbia.
--The average real income of the working poor increased slightly from $9,300 in 2009 to about $9,400 in 2010.
-- However, there’s not a single county in the nation where a family with an average annual income of $9,400 can afford fair market rent for a one-bedroom unit.
--The number of poor households which pay more than 50% of their income on rent increased 22% from 2007 to 2010.
-- Nationally, 1 out of every 45 housing units had a foreclosure in 2010, a more than 100% increase from 2007.
I have decided, laptop in hand, to create a White House petition on the site now infamous for the secession and Death Star petitions. I need 100,000 signatures to merit a White House response, a total I believe I can reach with your help. If hundreds of thousands can "vote" to secede, of tens of thousands can "vote" for the construction of a Death Star, surely 100,000 can vote on a five year plan to end homelessness.
With effort, we can once again become the greatest nation in the world. But we'll only do it by remembering to care for "the least of these". (Petition site: )
Friday, January 4, 2013
Learning to Fall
I have a confession to make, one that's probably a little peculiar coming from someone who's never ridden anything fiercer than the old mechanical horse that used to sit out in front of the TG&Y in my home town of Enid, Oklahoma: I love rodeo.
It's not very politically correct, and it certainly couldn't be called a gentleman's sport, but I have loved the intricate ballet between man and beast since I was old enough to see it.
I love it most of all, though, because it taught me life's greatest lesson: how to fall.
First off, I don't believe in failure. If you woke up today, if you're reading this, you have an opportunity to shake off all the mud, all the dirt of your past and move on. But first you have to change your mindset: you do not FAIL, you FALL. And when you falls, the first thought on your mind as you wipe away the dust, the mud, and the manure, should be what you are going to do next.
If you've ever watched a rodeo, falling happens pretty much 100% of the time in bronc and bull riding events. It's not a matter of if, but when. And if you watch the rider closely, you will see they tuck their extremities, they roll...and most of the time they hustle out of the arena before their mount decides to grind them into the turf.
And that is, I believe, one of the greatest lessons you can learn. When obstacles come, and they will, plan for them. Know how you're going to land, know where you're going to land, and know what you're going to do next. Each ride makes you stronger, each fall makes you wiser, and each time you rise and walk makes you bolder.
It's not very politically correct, and it certainly couldn't be called a gentleman's sport, but I have loved the intricate ballet between man and beast since I was old enough to see it.
I love it most of all, though, because it taught me life's greatest lesson: how to fall.
First off, I don't believe in failure. If you woke up today, if you're reading this, you have an opportunity to shake off all the mud, all the dirt of your past and move on. But first you have to change your mindset: you do not FAIL, you FALL. And when you falls, the first thought on your mind as you wipe away the dust, the mud, and the manure, should be what you are going to do next.
If you've ever watched a rodeo, falling happens pretty much 100% of the time in bronc and bull riding events. It's not a matter of if, but when. And if you watch the rider closely, you will see they tuck their extremities, they roll...and most of the time they hustle out of the arena before their mount decides to grind them into the turf.
And that is, I believe, one of the greatest lessons you can learn. When obstacles come, and they will, plan for them. Know how you're going to land, know where you're going to land, and know what you're going to do next. Each ride makes you stronger, each fall makes you wiser, and each time you rise and walk makes you bolder.
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