A New Word for Christian?

 One of my favorite writers, John Fischer, once asked: Do you ever wish we had a new word for "Christian?" I bet there are a lot of people out there who would be Christians if they didn’t have to become a "Christian" to be one.

To me, John Fischer is a guy who "gets it." A man of faith whose faith deals with the real stuff of life, not the stuff of political activists or irrelevant evangelists or poor communicators with big plans and no skills at getting them across. He's a guy who is able to say the important things about why people dislike so much people who believe what I believe. And he's right most every time, I've come to believe.

People don't like us because by and large...

• We're fake.
• We're hypocritical.
• We're judgmental.
• We're known more by what we stand against than what we stand for.
• We're loud and opinionated.
• We dress funny. (Well, at least on those horrible TV networks.)
• We fit in the real world like a black and white TV with rabbit ears fits with a new Game Cube.
• We throw around language that doesn't mean anything to people.
• We think we're better than others.
• We think we're right. All the time.
• We're unfriendly.
• We're a clique.
• We play at being pious.
• We don't feel comfortable associating with non-religous people.
• We ask people to change who they are before we'll accept them.
• We want converts, not friends.
• We are terribly condescending.
• We like ideals better than people.
• We focus on rules more than living.
• We can't even get along among ourselves.
• And most of the time we end up disproving what we say we believe more than proving it.

It's a painful list to make. And I could go on.

But there's another side. I've seen the soft underbelly of my faith that doesn't get shown on the news. I've seen the man with AIDS who shook my hand and hugged me and said thank you. And I asked him, "For what?" because it didn't seem right for a man to have to thank me for being human to him. I've seen more "Mother Teresa's" at work in storefront centers, helping kids graduate high school and helping people learn job skills to get a better job than fast food. I've seen people I know give their last few dollars of their monthly budget just because someone had a need.

A Christian I know once asked me if I joined an online journaling community so I could "share my faith" with people. That's a tough question to answer for me.

First, because I can't get away from "sharing my faith" with anyone I know. My faith is part of what makes me, well, me. It comes with the package, so to speak, and I'm not going to apologize for it being there. So, I guess, simply by the nature of "being" I'm "sharing my faith" -- at least in one sense.

Second, it really gets down to what people mean when they say, "sharing my faith." If by it they mean, did I join to make a bunch of converts to my way of thinking, then the answer is no. Plain and simple.

I joined social media and blogging communities because I like getting to know people. All people. Particularly people who don't believe the same as me. My life would be really boring with just me-clones around. And to be honest, I don't like most Christians I know either. For all the same reasons many other people don't.

Would I like for my friends to believe what I do? Sure. I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't. Is any friendship contingent on it? Of course not. Never will be. I consider it an honor that many of the people I've met in LJ continue to give me the time of day once they learn that I'm "one of those religious types" -- albeit a far cuter and less stereotypical one, I hope. I'm fortunate to be given the opportunity to be a friend in spite of the baggage my world view brings with it.

In fact, I received today what I consider one of the highest compliments I've ever received, bar none. An friend said I was the "nicest Christian I know." (Okay, she added some other stuff about my fascination with fishnets, but that's for the other essay I promised.)

And the worst part...

I start to get pretty proud of myself when I mention things like that.

Which just goes to show how much I still don't get it myself, after all.

15 Most Personal Songs (a musical apologetic) -- #11 Carolyn Arends, "Reaching"

As a child of the 70s and 80s, I didn't have the luxury of computer games and social media to shape my thoughts. Instead, a lot of it came from the music I listened to. 

These are the top fifteen songs that helped to make me who I am and help keep me on track as a genuine person in this human experience. #STformativesongs

#11 - Reaching by Carylon Arends

This one and an upcoming one are probably the most religious songs on this list, and primarily because they stirred in me spiritual seeking rather than actual any kind of doctrinal leanings. They taught me to seek truth, not systems or organizations. This one in particular always reinforced for me that there really is a truth with a capital T. We are just in the wrong place to explain it or put it in a box now. It's like the color blue to me. Whatever you choose to call it, or however you define it, there is an intrinsic "something" that we relate to as blue. This song reminds me that it's not just blue that fits that understanding for me. 

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There's a time I can recall

Four years old and three feet tall

Trying to touch the stars and the cookie jar

And both were out of reach

And later on in my high school

It seemed to me a little cruel

How the right words to say always seemed to stay

Just out of reach

Well, I should not have thought it strange

That growing causes growing pains

'Cause the more we learn the more we know

We don't know anything

But still it seems a tragic fate

Living with this quiet ache

The constant strain for what remains

Just out of reach

We are reaching for the future

We are reaching for the past

And no matter what we have we reach for more

We are desperate to discover

What is just beyond our grasp

But maybe that's what Heaven is for

There are times I can't forget

Dressed up in my Sunday best

Trying not to squirm and to maybe learn

A bit of what the preacher preached

And later lying in the dark

I felt a stirring in my heart

And though I longed to see what could not be seen

I still believed

I guess, I shouldn't think it odd

Until we see the face of God

The yearning deep within us tells us

There's more to come

So when we taste of the divine

It leaves us hungry every time

For one more taste of what awaits

When Heaven's Gates are reached

We are reaching for the future

We are reaching for the past

And no matter what we have, we reach for more

We are desperate to discover

What is just beyond our grasp

But maybe that's what Heaven is for

I believe that's what Heaven is for

There's a time I can recall

Four years old and three feet tall

Trying to touch the stars and the cookie jar

And both were out of reach

[Link] Dregs of Culture

by Sam Williamson

I was in a college ministry that targeted its evangelism for one purpose: to select future leaders. I’m ashamed to admit we called this process, “Selective Evangelism.”

We felt that we could recognize future spiritual dynamos by their past high school triumphs. We pursued unbelieving men and women who excelled at sports, academics, and (I’m even more ashamed to admit) who had a sense of coolness about them.

The ministry chose to target evangelism to those cool students because it felt it could discern God’s future go-getters based on natural gifting. It clung to this heresy despite God’s direct rebuke to the prophet Samuel who thought he could pick Israel’s next king by his good looks.

I suppose we thought we were smarter or more spiritual than one of God’s greatest prophets.

But the humanistic virus that infected that ministry still flourishes in modern Christendom. Look at how many mega-church pastors are good-looking and just plain cool: almost every one of them.  And those who don’t look cool spend their money on ratty jeans and tattooed sleeves.

The worst part is that believers in the pew begin to doubt God’s impact through their own lives simply because their body shape is pear, their intellect is lower than Einstein’s, and the only sport they excel at is shuffleboard.

As though God needs Joel Osteen’s smile to part the Red Sea.

Read the full article: https://beliefsoftheheart.com/2021/03/10/dregs-of-culture/

No Great Religious Poetry

There is no great religious poetry that 

does not raise -- as crucial to its enterprise

-- the question of whether it is open to the 

charge of blasphemy, even as there is no 

great erotic art that does not raise the 

question of whether it is open to the 

charge of pornography.

-- Christopher Ricks,

Bob Dylan's Vision of Sin 

15 Most Personal Songs (a musical apologetic) -- #12 Ideola, "Go Ask the Dead Man"

As a child of the 70s and 80s, I didn't have the luxury of computer games and social media to shape my thoughts. Instead, a lot of it came from the music I listened to. 

These are the top fifteen songs that helped to make me who I am and help keep me on track as a genuine person in this human experience. #STformativesongs

#12 - Go Ask the Dead Man - Ideola

Mark Heard did a little experiment that became one of my favorite albums of all time. Yes, all time. Ideola was a sort of pre-techno, alternative-adjacent slice of weirdness that had more to say about life than anything else that came out musically at the time. But the song that really stuck with me from it was this one -- "Go Ask the Dead Man." How valuable are even the things we don't like and don't wish to have to go through? How important are the people in our lives? How valuable are the things we take for granted? Well, to the man who can no longer experience them, I bet they're pretty much priceless. This song reminds me to live in a way that sees that priceless quality of ordinary things each day. 

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What's the worth of one warm smile?

Go and ask the dead man

How bright the light in loved ones’ eyes?

Go ask the dead man

Where's the charm in cloudy skies?

Go and ask the dead man

Oh go ask the dead man

Who has eyes for an evening sun?

Go and ask the dead man

The smell of earth, the sound of storms?

Go ask the dead man

How intense is the lightest touch?

Go and ask the dead man

Oh go ask the dead man

They say dead men tell no tales

But if you want to hear your own heart beating

Listen well, listen well

Go ask the dead man

Go ask the dead man

By Our (G)Love(s)

 I love this. By our love, not by our gloves.

I once wrong an essay (in the dark ages before digital) called "They Will Know We Are Christians by Our Gloves." Gloves are things you can put on and take off when it's convenient. Love is a character trait that you can ignore occasionally, but if it's really and truly a part of you, not for long. Character is who you are. Costumes are not.

Original cartoon at http://www.radiofreebabylon.com/coffeewithjesus

15 Most Personal Songs (a musical apologetic) -- #13 Tonio K, "You Will Go Free"

As a child of the 70s and 80s, I didn't have the luxury of computer games and social media to shape my thoughts. Instead, a lot of it came from the music I listened to. 

These are the top fifteen songs that helped to make me who I am and help keep me on track as a genuine person in this human experience. #STformativesongs

#13 - You Will Go Free by Tonio K

I discovered Tonio K back when I was working as a teenager, and a little bit of each paycheck each week went into a new cassette. Yes, cassettes. That was the player I had in my car. Anyway... Tonio K. was one of those troubadours who could turn religious concepts into stuff that almost anyone would want to hear without reigning down judgment or trying to create a false dichotomy between religious people and non-religious people, less religious and more spiritual (as the saying goes). As such, this song hit me hard and helped me understand that we are all in the same need because we are all inhabiting the same world.

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You've been a prisoner

Been a prisoner all your life

Held captive in an alien world

Where they hold your need for love to your throat like a knife

And they make you jump

And they make you do tricks

They take what started off as such an innocent heart

And they break it and break it and break it

Until it almost can't be found

Well i don't know when

And it don't know how

I don't know how long it's gonna take

I don't know how hard it will be

But i know

You will go free

You can call it the devil

Call it the big lie

Call it a fallen world

What ever it is it ruins almost everything we try

It's the sins of the fathers

It's the choices we make

It's people screaming without making a sound

From prison cells in paradise

Where we're chained to our mistakes

Well i don't know when

And it don't know how

I don't know how much it's gonna cost you

Probably everything

But i know

You will go free

You can't see your jailer

You can't see the bars

You can't turn your head round fast enough

But it's everywhere you are

It's all around you

And everywhere you walk this prison yard surrounds you

But in the midst of all this darkness

In the middle of this night

I see truth cut through this curtain like a laser

Like a pure and holy light

And i know i can't touch you now

And i don't want to speak too soon

But when we get sprung

From out of our cages baby

God knows what we might do

Well i don't know when

And it don't know how

I don't know if you'll be leaving alone

Or if you'll be leaving with me

But i know

You will go free