Peace Without Comfort

This paradox has been on my mind quite a bit these past few days (arguably months) - the idea of a peace that might be totally distinct from comfort. I'm sure this divine peace most likely applies to situations of physical and emotional discomfort as well... but in my case it applies to my theological discomfort.

See, I'm getting ready to enter my senior year of college, and at this point I have more questions about God than answers. I've read a number of different theological systems, and have seemed to identify most with emergent theology, although in a dialectic sort of way (dialectic is simply a fancy college word for "give and take"). I haven't found any system of belief about God that I've fully subscribed to (and I sincerely fear that the day I do is the day I've traded the mysterious God who somehow reveals Himself and escapes my understanding at the exact same moments for the God-philosophy that uses God as a mere explanation for the way the world around us works).

The problem with my identification with emergent theology is that, because it focuses on relationship and dialogue, and on the spiritual journey as being equally as important as the destination, many traditionally well-defined beliefs are called into question and reexamined... That doesn't leave me with very many answers.

I've also realized over the summer a number of unique challenges I face going into vocational youth ministry that, if I am to succeed at such a career, will require me to completely rethink the way youth ministry is done. The first, which is obvious to anyone who knows me, is that communication is not one of my strengths. I would rather have my teeth pulled than endure the awkwardness of standing in front of a crowd fumbling for the right words to say, even when I have well-outlined notes. The second thing is that I have virtually no natural administrative leadership skills that I'm aware of. I'm not naturally the point-man in a given situation, nor am I necessarily comfortable with the idea of being that person. All in all, I don't really fit the mold of your traditional youth pastor... I can't imagine myself getting up in front of a group several times a week, nor do I think am I a broad enough planner to cover all the bases necessary to plan a large-scale youth event.

So I'm not comfortable with my theology, and I'm not comfortable with my ability to fill the traditional role of a youth pastor, and yet there's a certain peace about it all. The peace is knowing that whatever my theology is or becomes over time, I can say that it developed naturally out of a sincere pursuit of holistic knowledge of Jesus - that is, knowledge that extends beyond intellectual conviction into everyday life and actions; knowledge that permeates a person and changes him from the inside out. And as for youth ministry, fortunately there's a God who chooses old, broken wineskins, and a God who sees my passion to enter into relationship with teenagers and really listen to them. That's the core of youth ministry - it's the end goal, and it's the part I'm most passionate about. I'm hoping to do ministry without all the answers, and that's extremely uncomfortable, but there's a peace in knowing that there's no better way to do it.

The Hotseat

Last night's youth group was an interesting experience. We finished out our current video series and split off into small groups to discuss what the video talked about. We did it a bit differently this week though, and each group leader was given one question, leaving the kids to move freely between groups. I thought it was a great idea until I was asked to discuss with teenagers the prompt of "Sometimes I wonder whether or not God even exists".

At first only two kids came to the group, but within a matter of minutes, there were at least 15 or 20 gathered around, each with different questions and doubts, coming to me alone for answers or guidance.

Why does science always seem to contradict the things that we're supposed to believe as Christians?

There are so many religions, what if I pick the wrong one?

What if Christianity isn't the right religion?

Sometimes I worry that when we die, nothing at all will happen, we'll just be dead... then what will we have lived for?

How do we know the Bible is true, wasn't it written by men?

What about the people who are in Africa who will never even hear about Jesus, will they go to heaven?

If God has mercy on the people who have never heard about him, then why do we send missionaries to evangelize to them? I thought the whole point was that we were trying to save them from Hell, and that responsibility was all on our shoulders. Why do we evangelize then?

Will heaven really be just this cloudy place in the sky where we float around for eternity?

Sometimes I doubt God because I've never had one of those "Aha!" moments I hear people talk about in church.

What about people who don't believe in God because the church has screwed up so badly?

When I see so much suffering in the world, it's hard not to doubt God. It's like, because there's suffering, there is no God, or because there is no God, there's suffering... how can both exist?

These are just some of the questions I was asked in a matter of 45 minutes... fortunately there's a gracious God who loves us in spite of ourselves who I could point to as the answer for life's tough questions.

Finding Redemption In All The Wrong Places

I don't listen to much rap music these days; not because I'm not fond of the genre, but because most of it is stupid (I mean that in the very literal sense of the word). One need look no further than the current Top 10 songs to discover that the "rapper" has abandoned his role as an agent of social change and emerged as a 21st century minstrel, dawning the "bling" that amounts to nothing more than modern day BlackFace to entertain his audiences, all while guided by the profit-driven record companies.

In this sense, the culture of Hip Hop has fallen. It has sold out commercialism and capitalism (I could point to once popular songs written entirely about sneakers or jewel-studded teeth). It is from this state of Fallenness that redemption seems to [super]naturally emerge (how can something that hasn't fallen be redeemed?) I've been reading and interacting with Ricky Ross's blog during the past couple months. He's been attributed with starting the crack epidemic in Los Angeles in the mid-80's. He's finishing out the last year and a half in prison, and the nature of his blog reflects genuine change. He's harnessed his culturally iconic name of "Freeway Ricky Ross" and is using that to gain momentum for his new project. He's started a website that is promoting "genuine" artists who rap for social change. He's marketing "Smart is the new gangsta", and will bring this hopeful and life-affirming art into the mainstream, transforming the Hip Hop Culture into a culture of hope and brighter days.

If you still have doubts about the legitimacy of hope through Hip Hop, watch this old video of Tupac Shakur, who is often portrayed as a mindless and violent thug, and look at the redemption and hope that his lyrics give to women in urban communities...

Time to be critical...

I'm just going to throw this out there: I hate whatever it is that's happened to theology and theologians. I don't know if it's America I should blame, or the internet, or the blogging phenomenon that gives everyone their soapbox to preach from... Whatever it is, I'm admittedly as guilty as everyone else who participates in it.

I hate shallow, pedantic, self-serving and self-sustaining theologies that only serve the purpose of perpetuating themselves (ie, getting so caught up in proving that God exists, as if God has nothing better to do than exist)

I hate theologies that are so concerned with precise doctrine that they choke out spiritual exploration (ie, the "arrived" Christian is one who spends more time with their Bible than with their Creator)

I hate theologies that demand conformity and unanimity rather than unity and a commitment to community.

I hate finger-pointing theologies that concern themselves with the nuances of other theological interpretations rather than addressing real-life issues with the truth of the Gospel.

I hate theologies that allow us to play the role of God, be it in judgment or in determining and asserting truth and lording it over others.

I hate theologies that neglect grace, both in doctrine and in practice.

I hate that the "loudest" Christians often perpetuate an extraordinarily unchristian attitude and worldview to those who are already skeptical of Jesus and the Church.

I hate that I'm guilty of all of these.

I hate coming to grips with the fact that even in practicing and exploring theology, complete reliance on the grace and guidance of God is necessary (and that the lack of reliance is especially disastrous).

I'm too critical. I hope this post doesn't eventually become the reason I'm not hired for a church staff position... haha.

Personality Test Results

I had to take a personality test for work... and the results are in

CONNECTEDNESS

Things happen for a reason. You are sure of it. You are sure of it because in your soul you know that we are all connected. Yes, we are individuals, responsible for our own judgments and in possession of our own free will, but nonetheless we are part of something larger. Some may call it the collective unconscious. Others may label it spirit or life force. But whatever your word of choice, you gain confidence from knowing that we are not isolated from one another or from the earth and the life on it. This feeling of Connectedness implies certain responsibilities. If we are all part of a larger picture, then we must not harm others because we will be harming ourselves. We must not exploit because we will be exploiting ourselves. Your awareness of these responsibilities creates your value system. You are considerate, caring, and accepting. Certain of the unity of humankind, you are a bridge builder for people of different cultures. Sensitive to the invisible hand, you can give others comfort that there is a purpose beyond our humdrum lives. The exact articles of your faith will depend on your upbringing and your culture, but your faith is strong. It sustains you and your close friends in the face of life's mysteries.

INTELLECTION

You like to think. You like mental activity. You like exercising the "muscles" of your brain, stretching them in multiple directions. This need for mental activity may be focused; for example, you may be trying to solve a problem or develop an idea or understand another person's feelings. The exact focus will depend on your other strengths. On the other hand, this mental activity may very well lack focus. The theme of Intellection does not dictate what you are thinking about; it simply describes that you like to think. You are the kind of person who enjoys your time alone because it is your time for musing and reflection. You are introspective. In a sense you are your own best companion, as you pose yourself questions and try out answers on yourself to see how they sound. This introspection may lead you to a slight sense of discontent as you compare what you are actually doing with all the thoughts and ideas that your mind conceives. Or this introspection may tend toward more pragmatic matters such as the events of the day or a conversation that you plan to have later. Wherever it leads you, this mental hum is one of the constants of your life.

INPUT

You are inquisitive. You collect things. You might collect information—words, facts, books, and quotations—or you might collect tangible objects such as butterflies, baseball cards, porcelain dolls, or sepia photographs. Whatever you collect, you collect it because it interests you. And yours is the kind of mind that finds so many things interesting. The world is exciting precisely because of its infinite variety and complexity. If you read a great deal, it is not necessarily to refine your theories but, rather, to add more information to your archives. If you like to travel, it is because each new location offers novel artifacts and facts. These can be acquired and then stored away. Why are they worth storing? At the time of storing it is often hard to say exactly when or why you might need them, but who knows when they might become useful? With all those possible uses in mind, you really don't feel comfortable throwing anything away. So you keep acquiring and compiling and filing stuff away. It's interesting. It keeps your mind fresh. And perhaps one day some of it will prove valuable.

ADAPTABILITY

You live in the moment. You don't see the future as a fixed destination. Instead, you see it as a place that you create out of the choices that you make right now. And so you discover your future one choice at a time. This doesn't mean that you don't have plans. You probably do. But this theme of Adaptability does enable you to respond willingly to the demands of the moment even if they pull you away from your plans. Unlike some, you don't resent sudden requests or unforeseen detours. You expect them. They are inevitable. Indeed, on some level you actually look forward to them. You are, at heart, a very flexible person who can stay productive when the demands of work are pulling you in many different directions at once.

IDEATION

You are fascinated by ideas. What is an idea? An idea is a concept, the best explanation of the most events. You are delighted when you discover beneath the complex surface an elegantly simple concept to explain why things are the way they are. An idea is a connection. Yours is the kind of mind that is always looking for connections, and so you are intrigued when seemingly disparate phenomena can be linked by an obscure connection. An idea is a new perspective on familiar challenges. You revel in taking the world we all know and turning it around so we can view it from a strange but strangely enlightening angle. You love all these ideas because they are profound, because they are novel, because they are clarifying, because they are contrary, because they are bizarre. For all these reasons you derive a jolt of energy whenever a new idea occurs to you. Others may label you creative or original or conceptual or even smart. Perhaps you are all of these. Who can be sure? What you are sure of is that ideas are thrilling. And on most days this is enough.

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.