Life Sucks. So What? (Part 4)

Let's get back into Ecclesiastes, shall we...

Again, I observed all the acts of oppression being done under the sun. Look at the tears of those who are oppressed; they have no one to comfort them. Power is with those who oppress them; they have no one to comfort them. So I admired the dead, who have already died, more than the living, who are still alive. But better than either of them is the one who has not yet existed, who has not seen the evil activity that is done under the sun.

I saw that all labor and all skillful work is due to a man’s jealousy of his friend. This too is futile and a pursuit of the wind.

The fool folds his arms
and consumes his own flesh.
Better one handful with rest
than two handfuls with effort and a pursuit of the wind.

Again, I saw futility under the sun: There is a person without a companion, without even a son or brother, and though there is no end to all his struggles, his eyes are still not content with riches. “So who am I struggling for,” he asks, “and depriving myself from good?” This too is futile and a miserable task.

Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their efforts. For if either falls, his companion can lift him up; but pity the one who falls without another to lift him up. Also, if two lie down together, they can keep warm; but how can one person alone keep warm? And if someone overpowers one person, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not easily broken.

Better is a poor but wise youth than an old but foolish king who no longer pays attention to warnings. For he came from prison to be king, even though he was born poor in his kingdom. I saw all the living, who move about under the sun, follow a second youth who succeeds him. There is no limit to all the people who were before them, yet those who come later will not rejoice in him. This too is futile and a pursuit of the wind. (Ecclesiastes 4, Holman Standard Bible)

In this chapter, the preacher widens the list of stuff that is vanity (or futile, depending on the translation you're reading). He adds to it: oppression, power, living, hard work, excess, loneliness, self-sufficiency, and building a legacy to accompany your name.

Wow. That's quite a list, and I'm willing to bet that you'd find several of those on the how-to books with lists teaching you how to succeed in business, life, and other endeavors. In fact, I'm sure it's not uncommon to think of about half of them as virtues -- not vices. 

And out of all the world who does he find to admire? Dead people. No, not zombies, you nut jobs. Honest to God corpses. And even better than them, folks who were never born. Because they never had to feel all this emptiness and vanity and futility, never had to feel the existential tug of war between wanting to matter and ultimately not mattering in and of themselves, never had to experience that search for significance in the eyes of themselves, their neighbors, their bosses, their families, etc. only to find the brick wall we all eventually run up against. 

The outcome? Take it easy. Don't stress so much about it. It's better to rest with one handful than be exhausted and have two handfuls. It's almost like THE MOVIE POTHEAD'S GUIDE TO LIFE. It certainly fits the stereotype of the '80s flick stoner, doesn't it?

Don't rock the boat. Enjoy yourself as best you can in spite of the pain and emptiness. 

Doesn't sound like the "God has a wonderful plan for you" tract that we often hear about. Not at all.

Luckily he switches topic before we all slit our wrists. 

Since we're stuck here, he continues, you know what's really bad? Not having anyone to help you out. Being lonely. Sure, we all need solitude from time to time, but all-out loneliness is something far different. Nobody to hang out with, get to know and be known by, to struggle with through all the questions and hard work -- no one to do things for (kind of flies in the face of our me-focused lifestyles, huh).

A person with a companion, a friend is like a rope made from two interwoven cords, is like a body that can keep warm in spite of the cold, is like someone who can help defend and be defended by another. And adding a third strand to that pair... well, that makes it even that much better.

But hold on. What's he talking about here and where did that other person suddenly come from? I could be way off here because people during the Old Testament years didn't get all up close and personal with a holy God and kept their faith personal but still at an arm's distance. (God was, after all, a dangerous entity who might smite you dead for something like accidentally touching the Ark of the Covenant. It wasn't until the New Testament that Jesus blew religious and irreligious minds with his crazy talk about actually being friends with God through the Holy Spirit.) Regardless, I think the writer (preacher) has subtly introduced the ultimate end-game of his essay into this part. I think he's hinting at something to come without making it too obvious yet. But what is it?

When Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were inside Babylon's fiery furnace, one plus one plus one didn't add up to three. It added up to four. There was a fourth man in the flames. 

I think that's what the preacher is hinting at here to. Not only do we need each other, but we need something, nay, Someone even stronger. We need God. And with Him woven into that three-stranded rope, things begin to take on a different, less empty, less vain, less futile glow. 

It's good to be wise, and perhaps feeling the existential twitch IS the beginning of wisdom. After all, we have to know we're missing something before we ever begin to search for it, or even to look as listen as it searches for us. 

Perhaps this existential ouch is our Gandalf that sets us off on the quest to destroy the ring. Maybe. We'll see.

Life Sucks, So What? (Part 3)

There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven—

A time to give birth and a time to die;
 A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
A time to kill and a time to heal;
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to weep and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up as lost;
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear apart and a time to sew together;
A time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate;
A time for war and a time for peace.

What profit is there to the worker from that in which he toils?
I have seen the task which God has given the sons of men with which to occupy themselves.
He has made everything appropriate in its time. He has also set eternity in their heart, yet so that man will not find out the work which God has done from the beginning even to the end.
I know that there is nothing better for them than to rejoice and to do good in one’s lifetime; moreover, that every man who eats and drinks sees good in all his labor—it is the gift of God.
I know that everything God does will remain forever; there is nothing to add to it and there is nothing to take from it, for God has so worked that men should fear Him.
That which is has been already and that which will be has already been, for God seeks what has passed by.
Furthermore, I have seen under the sun that in the place of justice there is wickedness and in the place of righteousness there is wickedness.
I said to myself, “God will judge both the righteous man and the wicked man,” for a time for every matter and for every deed is there.
I said to myself concerning the sons of men, “God has surely tested them in order for them to see that they are but beasts.”
For the fate of the sons of men and the fate of beasts is the same. As one dies so dies the other; indeed, they all have the same breath and there is no advantage for man over beast, for all is vanity.
All go to the same place. All came from the dust and all return to the dust.
Who knows that the breath of man ascends upward and the breath of the beast descends downward to the earth?
I have seen that nothing is better than that man should be happy in his activities, for that is his lot. For who will bring him to see what will occur after him? (Ecclesiastes 3:1-22, NASB) 

Once again I return to the "depressing" book of Ecclesiastes, one of my favorites. Being prone to existentialism, I love to see the way the preacher (speaker delivering the message of this book) seems to waffle back and forth about whether or not it's ultimately worth it to look for happiness in the world.

Some see the opening of this chapter as a sort of sing-song (thank you, Byrds), happy-go-lucky admonition about all the wonderful opportunities in life, but I think the truth is a bit more dismal than that. I think it reads a lot more like this: Okay, some good stuff happens, then guess what? Some bad stuff happens. Then more good stuff, then more bad, then so on and so on. Life's filled with good things and bad things, and they all keep circling around.

Then, as if to punctuate that thought, the preacher goes on to say that we work our tails off, but it doesn't really get us anywhere. Sure, it may pay the day-to-day bills, but God has put a longing for eternity in our hearts, and somehow, just dealing with the day-to-day won't cut it in the long run. Don't think you have eternity set in your hearts? Ask yourself this: Do I want to be remembered after I'm dead? Do I want to matter in the world? Do I want the world to notice that I was here and that I'm gone? Damn right you do, because God set eternity in your heart.

As people, we contemplate the big ideas like eternity and actualization and morality and existence. It's what separates us from the lesser beasts. It's why our minds work the way they do. Only, get this...  the preacher continues and takes even that away from us. We are no better than mere beasts, he says, nothing but beasts actually. They procreate and die. We procreate and die. Big whoop for us. At the end of it all, we're both dust (in the wind, thank you Kansas).

But rather than slitting his wrists after this thought or joining an emo band, the preacher suddenly has another massive mood swing. In spite of all this, nay, BECAUSE of it, it is good for people to be happy with their lot in life.

He baits the hook here, because, if this is all we've read, it doesn't make sense to us. Why would we be happy after you just let us know that life sucks and we're no better off than mere animals even with all our ability to ponder and reflect and our "souls"? Care to fill us in, Preacher? And he will. Ultimately, he's getting around to that. He's just building up his case at this point, laying his foundation. The best is yet to come, but it's going to require flexibility in our world view and our sense of karmic fair play and pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps. He's already working hard at his premise that's going to cut all that right out from beneath us.

What's fair? Nothing's fair. Good stuff, bad stuff, it happens willy-nilly, whether we've earned it or not. What about all our hard work to make something of ourselves? Tough crap. We're all just beasts, rights, made of and returning to the same dust.

So obviously, this idea of being able to enjoy life and have a happy and meaningful existence isn't going to be something we actually contribute to the equation. It's going to have to come from outside us, something we aren't able to manufacture ourselves.

Hint. It's called "grace," and we'll be getting to that later.

Philosophical Gumbo a la Sean

It's not gumbo -- it's yumbo!

I've long held that I'm a self-professed postmodern existentialist christian mystic believer in absolute truth. Now, if you've studied philosophy at all, you'll know immediately that those are the kind of ingredients that make one strange and confusing soup in which the flavors don't actually complement each other.

Postmodern:
If Descartes is seen as the father of modernism, then postmodernism is a variety of cultural positions which reject major features ... modern (the philosophical concept of modern, not the chronological necessarily) thought. Hence, views which, for example, stress the priority of the social to the individual; which reject the universalizing tendencies of philosophy; which prize irony over knowledge; and which give the irrational equal footing with the rational in our decision procedures all fall under the postmodern umbrella.

Existentialism:
A philosophy that emphasizes the uniqueness and isolation of the individual experience in a hostile or indifferent universe, regards human existence as unexplainable, and stresses freedom of choice and responsibility for the consequences of one's acts.

Christian Mysticism:
Mysticism is the philosophy and practice of a direct experience of God. In the Christian context this is usually practiced through prayer, meditation and contemplation. Christian mysticism aspires to apprehend spiritual truths inaccessible through intellectual means, typically by emulation of Christ. "If you're a Christian, you're on a tightrope. If you see yourself more as a "Christian mystic" you're on the tightrope but juggling bowling balls." -- from http://www.christianmystics.com/

Absolute Truth:
In general, absolute truth is whatever is always valid, regardless of parameters or context. The absolute in the term connotes one or more of: a quality of truth that cannot be exceeded; complete truth; unvarying and permanent truth. It can be contrasted to relative truth or truth in a more ordinary sense in which a degree of relativity is implied.

How can I believe and hold to all these conflicting tenets? Well, I guess it's that struggle that helps to make me who I am. 

All I know is that the postmodern in me rejects easy answers and attempts to deconstruct everything to find the "truth" beneath the composition (even though typically postmoderns reject the notion of truth with a capital "T." 

The existentialist in me acknowledges the isolation of the individuals and places great importance on living well in a world that seems to ignore us (at best) or downright antagonistic toward us (at worst). The living heroically in that world is the greatest human achievement, seeking to be responsible for standing up in the face of that isolation. 

The Christian mystic in me attempts to makes sense of this all through a relationship with God, and sees that those my existentialism makes the world seem apart and distant and uncaring, the God who created it isn't, that the postmodern who has become jaded and skeptical can ultimately find something solid and real once everything has been deconstructed and laid bare apart from all it's cultural context. 

And the believer in absolute truth in me gives me hope that there is something real, something firm that holds true, period, and that if I search for it, regardless of its name or what faith has tried to co-opt it, it will be there just as real for me as for everyone else who has the guts to put everything they believe at risk just to find it.

So, beneath the surface of my skin and psyche, all that mixture of philosophical gumbo is going on. And now you know me, the real me. The definition of me, at least in terms of my philosophical understanding of myself, the world, and my place in it. But, in spite of all the heady, self-important crap that is me, I like to watch TV, movies and read books and comics and play (I call it work most of the time) on my computer.

All this heady stuff, and I'm still a shallow wack job, huh? But you have to love me for it, right?

(Wait, don't leave. Please...)

Life Sucks, So What? (Part 2)

I said to myself, "Come now, I will test you with pleasure. So enjoy yourself." And behold, it too was futility.

I said of laughter, "It is madness," and of pleasure, "What does it accomplish?"
I explored with my mind how to stimulate my body with wine while my mind was guiding me wisely, and how to take hold of folly, until I could see what good there is for the sons of men to do under heaven the few years of their lives.
I enlarged my works: I built houses for myself, I planted vineyards for myself;
I made gardens and parks for myself, and I planted in them all kinds of fruit trees;
I made ponds of water for myself from which to irrigate a forest of growing trees.
I bought male and female slaves, and I had homeborn slaves. Also I possessed flocks and herds larger than all who preceded me in Jerusalem.

Yes, the cliche.

Also, I collected for myself silver and gold, and the treasure of kings and provinces. I provided for myself male and female singers and the pleasures of men-- many concubines.
Then I became great and increased more than all who preceded me in Jerusalem. My wisdom also stood by me.
And all that my eyes desired I did not refuse them. I did not withhold my heart from any pleasure, for my heart was pleased because of all my labor and this was my reward for all my labor.
Thus I considered all my activities which my hands had done and the labor which I had exerted, and behold all was vanity and striving after wind and there was no profit under the sun.
So I turned to consider wisdom, madness and folly, for what will the man do who will come after the king except what has already been done?
And I saw that wisdom excels folly as light excels darkness.
The wise man's eyes are in his head, but the fool walks in darkness. And yet I know that one fate befalls them both.
Then I said to myself, "As is the fate of the fool, it will also befall me. Why then have I been extremely wise?" So I said to myself, "This too is vanity."
For there is no lasting remembrance of the wise man as with the fool, inasmuch as in the coming days all will be forgotten. And how the wise man and the fool alike die!
So I hated life, for the work which had been done under the sun was grievous to me; because everything is futility and striving after wind.
Thus I hated all the fruit of my labor for which I had labored under the sun, for I must leave it to the man who will come after me.
And who knows whether he will be a wise man or a fool? Yet he will have control over all the fruit of my labor for which I have labored by acting wisely under the sun. This too is vanity.
Therefore I completely despaired of all the fruit of my labor for which I had labored under the sun.
When there is a man who has labored with wisdom, knowledge and skill, then he gives his legacy to one who has not labored with them. This too is vanity and a great evil.
For what does a man get in all his labor and in his striving with which he labors under the sun?
Because all his days his task is painful and grievous; even at night his mind does not rest. This too is vanity.
There is nothing better for a man than to eat and drink and tell himself that his labor is good. This also I have seen, that it is from the hand of God.
For who can eat and who can have enjoyment without Him?
For to a person who is good in His sight He has given wisdom and knowledge and joy, while to the sinner He has given the task of gathering and collecting so that he may give to one who is good in God's sight. This too is vanity and striving after wind. (Eccliastes 2:1-26, NASB)

I use to call Ellen DeGeneris "Ellen Degenerate." Granted it was more for the obvious pun -- and I'll go way out of my way for a bad pun -- on her last name rather than any seeming "holy roller" ideals, in spite of the (often but not always unfair) caricature that people of my faith persuasion are primarily illiterate, drooling hicks who want to keeper women, homosexuals, and other races under our thumbs.
Still, it does reveal something about not just me, but all of us, I think-the way we use words to not just define things, but also to categorize them in more easily managed groups of things. For people in my system of belief, I'm sad to say that we have a tendency to divide the world in to two broad categories. Well, make that one broad category and one tiny one. Ask most any of us today, and we'll immediately begin telling you about the things that are "sacred" and the things that "secular." 

Titian's Sacred and Profane Love

Although we've turned the term primarily into a marketing term today, as though there were genuinely such an animal as Christian music or Christian fiction, the idea originates much earlier, and it's perhaps Soren Kierkegaard who best verbalized in his concept of the "leap of faith" -- the ultimate dividing line between the normal, rational, everyday things and the somehow "higher" or "holier" things such as faith, prayer, or good works. Kierkegaard's idea was that some things could be reasoned and others could not, but even that idea has been perverted by the Church to somehow take the sacred out of the secular.

You're probably getting the idea that I disagree with that concept. You'd be right. My views are much broader in scope. I subscribe to the notion that all things are sacred to the mind set to see the sacred in all things. I'm not espousing some form of pantheism, mind you, but simply saying that if all good things are gifts from God, and if "whatever your hand finds to do" should be done for the glory of God, then things like music, writing, vocation, jobs, even sex, romance, and friendships, should be included in the list.

There is no valid biblical basis for creating a Christian subculture to market safe, alternative, "Christian" versions of other things to poor, uptight Christians who don't want to be offended by having to live in the real world. Nor is there a valid basis of dividing what I do 24/7 in my life from the more "holy" things such as prayer or good deeds or meditation. I must be just as open to seeing the sacred in my everyday interaction on the job (whatever the job) and the relationships I have with people throughout my life. 

I'd go so far as to say that there's not any valid basis either to separate rational thought from faith, as if a faith that's no more than some wishful thinking or "leap in the dark" is worth its proverbial salt -- as though God invited us to a life of turning off our brains just to believe in Him. (Granted, I don't think you can ultimately "prove" faith without the experience of having it, but there are rational pointers -- philosophy, science, etc. -- that can help guide you there, but that's a discussion for another time.)

Now, what does all this have to do with Ecclesiastes 2? Simple. The "preacher" or writer of the book says he tries all sorts of things to find purpose or even simply happiness in life-pleasure, wine, laughter, aesthetics, romance, sex, possessions, wisdom, and quite a list more. And he says that none of them were ultimately satisfying, or mere "vanity or striving after wind." The typical Christian reaction to this conclusion is to dismiss all such things as somehow "bad" because they didn't work and to focus on some type of more sacred activity for purpose or happiness.

But that's not what the writer is saying at all, and those who jump to that stretch of a conclusion are really missing the point. The problem isn't that pleasure, wine, laughter, aesthetics, romance, sex, possessions, and wisdom are bad, it just that they aren't enough IN AND OF THEMSELVES to give anyone a purpose in life or a lasting happiness. Sure, they may be fun or helpful for a season, but even great sex fades over time when the mechanics of a real relationship supersede mere gratification. Even wisdom ultimately fails because mere reason alone leads the conclusion (often) that there's no way to really find a purpose other than endure, endure, and endure some more.

But that doesn't make them bad or less or evil or secular or profane or non-Christian. Remember, in Genesis, after creation, God declared it "good," not mediocre or "profane."

And I, for one, like that declaration, because I'm personally pretty found of laughter, pleasure, possessions, and sex. And what they heck, I'll even give wisdom a try every now and them.

Life Sucks, So What? (Part 1)

The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem.
"Vanity of vanities," says the Preacher, "Vanity of vanities! All is vanity."
What advantage does man have in all his work which he does under the sun?
A generation goes and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever.
Also, the sun rises and the sun sets; and hastening to its place it rises there again.
Blowing toward the south, then turning toward the north, the wind continues swirling along; and on its circular courses the wind returns.
All the rivers flow into the sea, yet the sea is not full. To the place where the rivers flow, there they flow again.
All things are wearisome; Man is not able to tell it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing.
That which has been is that which will be, and that which has been done is that which will be done. So, there is nothing new under the sun.
Is there anything of which one might say, "See this, it is new"? Already it has existed for ages which were before us.
There is no remembrance of earlier things; and also of the later things which will occur, there will be for them no remembrance among those who will come later still.
I, the Preacher, have been king over Israel in Jerusalem.
And I set my mind to seek and explore by wisdom concerning all that has been done under heaven. It is a grievous task which God has given to the sons of men to be afflicted with.
I have seen all the works which have been done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and striving after wind.
What is crooked cannot be straightened, and what is lacking cannot be counted.
I said to myself, "Behold, I have magnified and increased wisdom more than all who were over Jerusalem before me; and my mind has observed a wealth of wisdom and knowledge."
And I set my mind to know wisdom and to know madness and folly; I realized that this also is striving after wind.
Because in much wisdom there is much grief, and increasing knowledge results in increasing pain.
(Ecclesiastes 1:1-18, NASB)

When I can't think of somewhere in the Bible to read, I have a tendency to turn to either Hosea (I love the idea of God commanding one of his prophets to marry a hooker as a living object lesson, and teaching the prophet a little bit about how to really love someone - even when that someone doesn't remain faithful - with a love that loves period.) or Paul's letter to the Romans (It must be the theological side of me, 'cuz that's one heavy book of systematic theology.) or the book I'm settling into again… Ecclesiastes.

The main theme of the book is simple enough to pick out: "Life and everything about it is pretty pointless. Knowledge and wisdom? Right, even the fools and idiots can have a better life sometimes, it seems. Sex? Been there, done that. Wealth? It comes and goes. Good times? They have to end sometime. Wine? Wait until the hangover. But hey, enjoy live anyway. It's a gift from God, you know. Just don't make finding a purpose in life the end-all and be-all of your happiness. 'Cuz it ain't gonna happen. Take it for what it is, a gift to enjoy today, because tomorrow, you never know whose turn it's gonna be."

Something about the book's honesty really grabs me. Being part of a religion that tends to focus on the "wonderful plan that God has for your life" (as the most popular tracts say) and how God "blesses the socks off" those who believe in Him (in the non-gender-specific sense, since God is spirit and ultimately above such an earthly notion as gender), it's not common to hear about how pointless life can be. That just seems to rub raw against the popular notion that life is all roses and smiles when people decide to follow Christ as a Christian. But I love that somehow in the scope of time, God saw fit to include such a "depressing" (as I've heard it called) collection of writings in the middle of His book of sacred writings.

Some mistakenly believe that carpe diem is the sole property of the existentialists and that living "grace under pressure" (to borrow from Hemingway) came along with Saul Bellow and other modern writers. But all you have to do is read through the book of Ecclesiastes to see that's not the case at all.

The very essence of carpe diem seeps from Ecclesiastes like blood from an open wound.

Life can suck, but endure anyway. It's a gift, but it can also be a curse. Blessing and curse. It's not so different from the paradoxical teachings in the New Testament that tell us that to save our lives we must lose them, the least will be the greatest, or that the meek shall inherit the earth. Somehow, it's a common theme of God to hide his greatest lessons in things that seem to compete. A life that is not just a wonderful gift but also a painful curse. Treasures in easily breakable jars of clay.

I don't find the book depressing at all. Instead I find its honest look at the world oddly comforting. So what if there's nothing new. It takes the pressure off to try to create something new. Just create the best I'm capable of doing and don't accept less. So what if I'll never be rich. Big deal, the rich guys won't be able to escape the same ultimate fate I will.

Life can suck. So what?

I can still enjoy it anyway.

I Yam What I Yam

I'm a product of the American postmodern culture. Not just plain ol' anybody's postmodernism, mind you, but the specialized blend of red, white, and blue postmodernism.

I'm not ashamed of it, mind you.

I take liberally from all eras to define myself. A fan of classic films. A devoted Capra nut who realizes that Capra's heroes are now cornball and outdated. I value flappers and go-go dancers equally. I find something attractive in most women I meet. I can't help it.

I love that little spot of female skin between the bottom of a knee-length skirt and the top of a tall, zippered boot. To be honest, I think about sex more than I think about faith. I know my long-suffering wife wishes that weren't the case, and hates when I post about that much-loved little spot of female skin.

My DVD collection already has outgrown my storage unit (and we're talking a larger than average storage unit). I have more CDs than I'll every be able to listen to and enjoy (and I still buy more). I have more books than I have space in my house to put them, and had (before I moved) seven boxes stored in a metal shed in my back yard above and beyond those I've already donated away.

I crave honesty, even when it's not easy. I enjoy the fact that my wife can admit she's attracted to other people just as I find myself attracted to other people. I sometime use "foul language" in my prayers and my communication, but I think God's and other people are big enough to handle my true feelings.

I have more relationships with people far away from me that I may never see than I do with people in my own neighborhood. I want a future, but not at the expense of really enjoying life today also. I love being infatuated with new gadgets.

I crave entertainment more than security or safety. For me, a life without something to keep me occupied and having a good time just sucks the life of living. It's a sort of "live for the moment, carpe diem mindset that seems to be at odds with my chosen faith (that tends to put all the focus on the hereafter instead of the here and now). Don't ask me to rationalize it. I'm not sure I can. (Although, the guy who started my faith did say something about life more abundant, and that has to mean more than just waiting for the big party later. It has to.)

I've somehow become a living contradiction.

A postmodern believer in an absolute truth.
A community-focused individual who won't let go of his individuality.
A socially liberal political conservative.
A Protestant who is more comfortable around non-religious people or people of other faiths than with members of my own.
A person who longs to be remembered in history books but strives to serve others and see them as better than myself.
A person happy with who I am, but hope my children will be better than me.
A person who believes in black and whites, but lives in a shade of grays, and doesn't seem to mind it.
An American dreamer who doesn't feel the patriotic twinge of Americentism.