First poetry attempt in three years... yippee

I watched the sun set this morning
The rippled reflection oddly more intriguing
Than the very world it showed me
Neither the world reflected
Nor the pond that reflects
Are seen for what they are
In much the same way I've lived
A life too nuanced for words
Faced with words too extravagant for life
Finding a thousand ways to say
I don't know anything

Lessons From Ricky Ross

I've started reading the blog of former drug lord, Ricky Ross. It's interesting to say the least; he's committed his remaining time in prison and his efforts toward education, both for himself and educating others through his blog. Most of his posts deal with urban culture, racial reconciliation, and the dangerous realities of the drug industry (needless to say, they're usually not entirely relevant for a suburban white college student.) Although, in his most recent post, I can say that I learned a genuine lesson. In his post, he discussed BHAG, or "Big, Hairy, Audacious Goals".

"Too often we don't think much of ourselves. We have a tendency to think other people are better than us or born with special ability. And when you think like this, you have a tendency to say, "what the heck," but watch out. We must have a certain level of unreasonable confidence. A confidence to say I can go with what others say they can't."

I think the Church, and society as a whole, has lost sight of what healthy confidence is. There's either a denigrating and restricting sort of humility that views others as having unrealistic capability, or plain arrogance that places that views the self as having special inherent capabilities that no one else has. What would it look like to level the playing field? To set ridiculous goals for ourselves, and know that we can achieve things we doubt? To know that even the successful had to start from the same point that we start from?

I learned a lesson from a drug lord... awesome.

Does Jesus Love Webber?

Is it possible for someone to love Jesus more than Jesus loves them? I would hope that the answer is a definitive NO...

That being said, I just found out that a friend of mine from high school, his nickname was Webber, came out of the closet a couple months ago... He's gay. He also loves Jesus. He was also one of the most spiritual people I knew, in the sense that he was always looking for Jesus. He served in various capacities at church, attended youth group every week, the whole nine yards. He also says that, throughout that whole time, this was a reality that he lived with, and hid from even the closest people in his life for fear of judgment.

I'm reminded of a certain Samaritan woman, she lived with certain realities that she tried to hide for fear of judgment as well. Then this man named Jesus spoke to her (a significant gesture in itself). He proceeded to tell her about the things she's done... She was set free by that act. She raced into town, telling of the man who told her everything she'd done. This was obviously no secret to the people of the town who knew her reputation, but this man had freed her from these haunting realities. He hadn't changed anything, but the things that once haunted her and drove her to seclusion were now the very things she first mentioned when she spoke of her encounter with the Messiah.

So back to the question: does Jesus love Webber? Well, I know that I love Webber, and just about everyone in his life loves him... I can hardly imagine Jesus being among the few who don't love Webber in the realities that he lives with. I can hardly imagine Webber loving Jesus more than Jesus loves him. What I can imagine is Jesus overwhelming him with a love and grace that he can't even come to grips with, because it's that substantial.

iPod Theology

I recently came across a blog whose author identifies himself as "Post-Emergent". It just sounds so cool, doesn't it? The bleeding edge of theology. It seeks not to re-imagine the church, but rather to rediscover it. It makes all prior theologies obsolete (including, oddly enough, the theology it seeks to rediscover). Adapt or be left in the theological stone age. The eternal truths of the Gospel are changing so fast that only the most theologically capable can keep up, while the rest are either dragged along or left to find their spiritual development in Left Behind books and being Purpose Driven.

There's such a huge problem with this. In the ever-developing search for what it means to live with the conviction of who Jesus was and how He lived, we (including/especially myself) have tended to treat theology as the latest consumer gadget. Sure, the last generation of iPods are fine and all, but what about the latest generation and its ability to play videos while making you breakfast and bathing your dog? The latest revision holds the greatest potential. I think we've bought into that myth when it comes to our theology.

Does that mean I'm not going to be "emergent" anymore? No, I think the emerging church and its way of doing things has struck a nerve with my generation and addresses key questions and worldviews that younger generations have, generations who, when asked to conform or leave, will much sooner leave. I think that emergent theology is the best way of communicating and engaging who Jesus was from the existing postmodern worldview the majority of us hold. But the idea of pursuing new theology just to stay on the bleeding edge is ridiculous and entirely inconsistent with the Gospel we seek to articulate.

Even the Rocks Cry Out

If we believe that God is omnipresent - that He exists everywhere and can be found everywhere - then where is He in the midst of the profanity of urban hip-hop culture?

This question has been at the forefront of my mind all week, as I've been taking a one-week intensive course on urban youth ministry.

One of our assignments has been to listen to and dissect the lyrics of various songs by Tupac Shakur. He's best known for his rough language and for "Thug Life". I was obviously skeptical at first... how can songs about "niggaz, bitches, and hoes" have any redemptive message? Well, I have to say, if you can read the lyrics for what they are and look past the language (which is more culturally stigmatized than biblically condemned), then it's very clear that Tupac was a social revolutionary and quite possibly a follower of Jesus. He advocated for the poor and the oppressed, to downtrodden. He sought to reform education (and was actually, as a self-taught high school drop-out, more educated and well-read at the age of 18 then most students entering ivy-league schools).

Luke 19:40-42 says, "Jesus answered, 'I tell you, if these [disciples] were silent, even the stones would shout out.' As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, 'If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.'"

Has the Church's abandonment of the inner-city and failure to engage the urban hip-hop culture caused "even the rocks" - the gangster rappers and "thug lifers" - to cry out for the redemption of the world around them and the ushering in of the kingdom of God? To say that it's "just South Central LA" or "just Chicago" or "just Detroit", and that there's nothing the Church can or should do, goes entirely against the Gospel that we believe in and are obligated to communicate to "all nations" - all cultures, even inner-city cultures. Have the rocks begun to cry out because of our silence?

Some other questions I'm left with: What do we do when the "Jesus" presented to urban cultures in inconsistent with the Jesus of the Gospels? Furthermore, what are we to do when maybe the "Allah" that is presented to urban cultures is more consistent with the Jesus of the Gospels than the "Jesus" they've been presented? If someone in an urban culture joins the Nation of Islam after having been communicated the Jesus of the Gospels with the name "Allah", should we foster and encourage their newfound spirituality, or discount it because it's worshiping Jesus by the wrong name?

I don't know, to be honest. At this point I'm left with more questions than answers...

Those Postmodernists Are Ruining Everything!

What's your theological worldview? created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Emergent/Postmodern You are Emergent/Postmodern in your theology. You feel alienated from older forms of church, you don't think they connect to modern culture very well. No one knows the whole truth about God, and we have much to learn from each other, and so learning takes place in dialogue. Evangelism should take place in relationships rather than through crusades and altar-calls. People are interested in spirituality and want to ask questions, so the church should help them to do this. Emergent/Postmodern 82% Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan 71% Neo orthodox 71% Modern Liberal 54% Classical Liberal 46% Roman Catholic 39% Charismatic/Pentecostal 29% Reformed Evangelical 25% Fundamentalist 21%

The Day Metaphors Took Over...

I've come to an interesting place where I feel like I've lost the crossroad between theology and spirituality. I was talking to one of my mentors the other day about this and he offered me an interesting metaphor...

Living out your faith is a lot like driving a car. You can drive for 100,000 miles and still know nothing about the car that you drive. The only indicators you have that something is wrong are little red lights, which can easily be missed, and when the whole car dies due to neglect. When something goes wrong and you know nothing about your car, no matter how much you've driven, you're still ultimately at someone else's mercy. Being a student of theology is like learning to be a mechanic. You learn the ins-and-outs of the inner-workings of the car, and not only can you interpret the little red lights, but you can hear the varying sounds of the engine, you can not only sense when something isn't right, but you can diagnose and even correct the problem at times.... The problem is when you forget how to drive in the process of becoming a mechanic.

Another metaphor that has stuck out to me recently is this:

All bread, no water.

Simple, I know. But I feel like, while I've had no shortage of substance, of nuggets to chew on and think about, and the intellectual aspect of my faith is flourishing... There's still no refreshing stream of life. There's no fresh and revitalizing source of Life that is constantly flowing and always available to me. I'm beginning to understand the words that Jesus spoke in a new way, "Man cannot live on bread alone." We always make the distinction between physical bread and spiritual water... but what if the same is true for the distinction between spiritual bread and spiritual water? After going for a while without water, adding more bread will only make your mouth drier.

I don't want to leave this on a downer, because it's not. Every pastor I've talked to has said that going through the frustrations I am and asking the questions I'm asking is an essential part of becoming a pastor. It's encouraging, but sucks at the same time.

Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary: pure and holy, tried and true.

What does it mean to be a sanctuary? A place of safety and refuge. The inmost and holiest part of the Church. What does it mean to ask God to prepare us to be that? I think I'll explore this a little later...