Sunday, December 30, 2007

287. thoughts on the trajectory of the Bible

[preface]

How's that for a fun, provocative title?

When I first started my Layman's Theology Series, I originally planned on starting with foundational ideas like salvation and communion and then work my way up to some really big, crazy, likely controversial thoughts I've been having recently about God and the Bible and christianity.

And there are still some basic tenets that I want to write about like sin and prayer and worship, but I can't wait anymore and I want to fast forward to get some of the more crazy ideas out before I forget about them or get too scared to put them up.

I think most of what I've written before about my take on theological ideas has been well within the realm of orthodoxy - the ideas were gleaned from books I'd already read by authors like Brian McLaren, Anne Lamott, N.T. Wright, Lauren F. Winner, and others.

But I've never read anything like what I'm going to share below. It may have been hinted at and that's probably where I got the idea, but still, it feels a bit scary to post because I'm not one to just speculate wildly about the nature of God because, well, God is GOD, you know?

As always, I'd love to hear from you - what do you think, am I completely off in left field on this one?

[end preface]

So one of the things that's always puzzled me about the Bible is, if God doesn't change, then why does he seem so mean and mad in the Old Testament and so warm and full of grace and love in the New Testament?

Well what if God seems to change between the OT and the NT not because he is different but because society and social systems changed and so the way he related to them changed?

The best way to explain this idea is to think of parenting. The way parents treat and relate to an infant is far different than the way they behave when their son/daughter is a teenager or when they become an adult. And this is understandable because the needs and abilities of their kids change as they age. More and different responsibilities are relinquished to them as they are able to handle them.

What if the same thing is happening between the end of the OT and the beginning of the NT? Think about the nation of Israel back when Abraham and Sarah gave birth to it. It was helpless and small and undefined. Israel was very much like an infant at this point. Then think of the Exodus - the wandering in the desert and the complaining and the time when Israel entered the promised land. This could be seen as the early adolescence of Israel when it tested boundaries and struggled to find its identity. The rest of the OT can be seen as Israel's late adolescence and early adulthood where it was trying to find meaning and purpose while sometimes shirking responsibilities and suffering the consequences.

Now think of the way God interacted with Israel during these periods. During this formative time, God was pretty hands-on and brutal because he had to be because perhaps the young nation of Israel needed this kind of discipline and guidance.

Take the OT dietary and cleanliness laws (Leviticus 11 and on). On a pragmatic level, what if they were there to keep the Israelites from getting food poisoning and keeping them sanitary? I mean, think about it. They didn't know anything about microbes or how diseases spread the same way a young person doesn't know that fire burns or that too much candy leads to indigestion and bad teeth. Because they don't know any better, we grab kids' arms away from the flame and hide treats up where they can't get to them. And they don't get it - they think we're being cruel and arbitrary. When they grow and come to understand why we've kept things from them, we let them restrain themselves.

This idea could help explain why God loosened up on the dietary laws in the NT (Acts 10:9-16). What if his change took place because enough was known about how to properly handle and cook meats?

I don't know nearly enough about culinary customs of the time so I have no idea if this way of looking at dietary laws holds any water, so maybe that's a bad example. How about this one.

The heavy-handed nature of God in the OT can be likened to old-school parenting. I'm talking spankings and no-TV, no-phone, no-internet groundings style parenting. Children need discipline and because they can't understand the long-term consequences (growing up to be an asshole) of bad behavior, a firm hand is needed to keep them in line.

Think about the early years of Israel. Before being delivered from Egypt, they didn't have any kind of governmental structure, they didn't have written laws, and little in the way of customs - basically, no culture. In a way, the only defining characteristic of the people of Israel was circumcision. That sounds to me like a pretty wooly, loosly organized band of people - hardly the stuff out of which to birth a nation.

So God intervenes and literally lays down the law. The Pentateuch (the first five books of the Bible) are where God lays down rules and customs for the people of Israel. And there are lots of them and if your use your imagination, doesn't it read a bit like a parents laying down the rules of the house and chores for their children?

But kids don't like to follow rules or do chores so a firm hand is required to impose order. This need for parents to be firm helps me understand the way God acted out the way he did during the Exodus where over and over again, he comes down hard on the Israelites. For example, there's this episode where the people of Israel are tired of eating manna day after day (forgetting that manna was a gift, appearing miraculously every morning) and they yearn for the taste of meat (Numbers11:4-35). And God gives it to them along with a plague that killed many - the story seems to suggest that it was the ones who complained about wanting meat that died there.

And there are lots of stories like this in the OT.

Maybe this picture of God violates our modern sense of justice and compassion because the punishment seems excessive in the extreme but the brutal fact of the matter is that the birthing of a nation is a messy, bloody, painful process (take a look at any political revolution of the past century). For me, reframing God's heavy hand as the discipline of a loving parent towards an unruly, young nation helps me see the Bible as a seamless work rather than one that portrays two different, unreconcilable Gods.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Fast forward a couple hundred years or so and we see the birth of Christ. By this time, Israel is a fully fledged nation (albeit, one that is under the thumb of the Romans). They have a robust culture and identity as well as social structures that do their best to keep everything in line. But they seem to have forgotten something. Perhaps afraid of invoking the wrath of God, they have become all about following the law. They have forgotten that they were called to be a blessing to all nations.

And so Jesus enters the scene to remind them. But because Israel is older and wiser now, the reminder comes not in the form of fire and brimstone but as a man who walked around, healed people, and challenged religious leaders.

Once a child becomes an adult - gets a job, starts making his/her own decisions, takes responsibility for their mistakes - the relationship between parent and child becomes less top down and becomes more peer to peer or mentor to mentee. The parents will always be older and have more life experience and so retains the right to offer guidance and advice but when advice is not heeded, it's allowed to happen - they don't get out the old spanking paddle.

And that's how I see the move from the OT to the NT. It's not that God changed, he just changed the way he related to his people - a shift that occurs because of the "maturity" of the nation of Israel.

Well one might object, what about the NT story where God strikes down a couple in the early church after they lie about how much of their possessions they donated (Acts 5:1-11)? Well I see the same parallels I outlined earlier. Just as the early, less organized nation of Israel needed a more firm hand from God, the early, less organized church needed to be reminded that this was a serious business they were involved in. And to my knowledge, it's the only story in the NT of people being struck down like this for sinning.

Of course the parenting metaphor is not a tight fit. I only use it to provide a kind of framework to talk about why God seems so different between the OT and the NT, but why do I do this? Why do I try to justify and make sense of God's behavior? Is there a point to this or is this just some intellectual exercise?

The reason I share these ideas is because for me, they help make the Bible real and relevant for today. Because if God changes the way he relates and reveals himself to his people based on how they are able to receive him, then this shift continues today and we need to be sensitive to and aware of and looking for the way that God is relating to us as we are here and now.

See, some christians are still trying to experience God as he expressed himself in the Old and New Testaments. They want to see healings happen, they want to hear the taingible, audible voice of God, they want radical intervention. And let me say now before I get flamed that I don't discount such desires - I do believe God still heals and that he does choose to express himself more palpably to some people - but I also think that in general, God is choosing to relate to us today in a different way than he did even in the NT.

Why? Because we as a society have grown and changed and matured.

Here's what I mean. Some christians lament the fact that God doesn't seem to be healing people the way he did in the Bible but here's what I think. I think God has given us the gift of medicine and science and he is waiting for us to use these gifts to bring healing to the sick, the poor, and the needy.

I have a friend (let's call him D) who used to live in Hawaii who was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Now this is a guy who has experienced big miracles in his life. For example, when he first moved to Hawaii, he didn't have a car and started praying for one. Lo and behold, someone walks up to him after church that week and says to him, "God told me you needed transportation so here are the keys to my old car." But that's not the crazy part. See, D drives this car around for a week and discovers that it's a piece of shit. So he gives it back to the guy saying, "I don't think this is the car God has for me." Then a couple weeks later, someone else from the church gives him a car - this time an old (but fully functioning) Cadillac!

I share that story to show that this is a guy who's not unfamiliar with God's provision. So last year he gets diagnosed with a brain tumor and the prayer chain goes into overdrive. He's got lots of Pentecostal-type friends so they pray for radical intervention and complete healing but that doesn't happen. He has an operation and recovers completely. But he didn't have medical insurance so he got stuck with a mega-buck bill from the hospital. However, donations and support checks start appearing from friends and long story short, he's able to cover all medical costs.

The point I'm trying to make is that maybe a hundred years ago, prayers for God to heal D's tumor would have been answered because there was no other way for D to survive but now that the technology is available, God let the tumor remain so that he could let the church step up and provide the financial support D needed for the operation.

Today, I think that praying for medical miracles in cases where there are already treatments available is like an adult asking his parents to continue giving him an allowance instead of getting a job using the college education that his parents paid for.

Let me try and say this another way.

Take a look at this bit from John 14:11-14:

Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the miracles themselves. I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.

Some look at verse 12 and conclude that by doing "even greater things than these," Jesus meant that christians will be able to heal the sick and the blind and the possessed. And Jesus does mean that, but not necessarily in the sense of laying hands on a lame person and seeing his/her legs instantly made well again. What if by "greater things" he was referring to modern advances in prosthetics technology and the opportunity to help victims of land-mines in places like Cambodia and Afghanistan and Burma?

Maybe that isn't as sexy as a flesh and bone healing but while some christians are waiting on God to provide healing power, I would argue that God is actually waiting on us to use the knowledge and technology that he's already given us.

Because some still expect an OT/NT God, they point fingers at him when he doesn't provide relief in Indonesia or New Orleans or Sudan. What we don't see is God pointing his finger back at the excesses of Las Vegas, at outrageous CEO salaries and corporate profits, at all the money our government is throwing at the war in Iraq. More ominously, God is pointing his finger at mega-church ministries that fly their pastors around in church-owned lear jets and provide $23,000 commodes (NPR story).

To finish off the parenting analogy, I believe that today in these modern, technological, scientific times, our society can be likened to a highly skilled adult and maybe God seems to be more hands-off today because he wants to see what we will do with the skills he's blessed us with. As a social species, he's moved us through birth, adolescence, young-adulthood and now that we are older, wiser, and better able to navigate this tricky planet, God wants to see what we will do.

The resources exist today to eradicate diseases like malaria and tuberculosis that are still ravaging developing countries. It would take a fraction of the current military budget in the US to provide clean water and sanitation for the 1.1 billion without it (2000 WHO report). Can't get your head around a number that big? The UN estimates that the global population topped 6 billion in October of 1999. That means about one in six people on this planet do not have access to clean, safe water. Think of six of your closest friends. Now pick one of them and contaminate his/her lifetime water supply with parasites, pesticides, and industrial waste chemicals. Then watch them waste away while you go on with your own comfortable life.

I mention the problem of clean water because I'm excited about something that my pastor is working on. He's blogged recently about a non-profit that he wants to set up and while I'm not exactly sure what it is yet, it seems to be exactly the kind of work that pastors and churches should be doing - helping to redeploy the gifts that God has blessed us and our country with to those truly in need.

Not to dis on any others, but my church is the bomb, yo.

Here's the deal.

It's easy to read the headlines and to be overwhelmed by all of the problems out there. But those problems aren't the problem. The solutions to those problems exist today, now. The problem is $25,000 desserts, perfumes that retail for $2,150 an ounce, a military budget that is looking to spend $439.3 billion this year (that's about 1.3 billion per day) - a fact that wouldn't be so bad (because defense is a priority) if the money were being used wisely but sadly, it isn't (warning, this story will make your blood boil).

God is not aloof or ambivalent. He wants desperately to take loving care of this world he's created and the people he's populated it with but he's not going to go in and fix things - not when we already have what we need to fix them ourselves. The reading of the Bible that I'm putting forward suggests a trajectory where God is placing more and more responsibility and expectation on us as we are able to handle it. Again, not because he's lazy or doesn't care but just as a parent of talented children wants to see them thrive with the talents they have, I picture God in anxious expectation just waiting to see the "greater things" that we will do with the resources he has equipped us with.

But he's not going to wait forever.

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

286. just a little something for Chrismas

Thanks, one and all for reading. Honestly, if it weren't for the trickle of hits I get on my Site Meter counter (as well as the fact that people start complaining if I don't put anything up for a while), I don't know if I'd write as much...or at all.

And so this is for you who put up with my inconsistent writing and my potty mouth and my excuses. It's a poem by Allison Smythe (I hope she doesn't mind that I'm posting this). It's about searching...and I won't say too much about what it's about because that takes half the fun out of enjoying poetry.

Maybe this is an odd poem to share at Christmas, but I guess I chose it because the words she uses and the way she deploys them are just so beautiful. It reminds me of what I love about writing: words. And maybe for some that seems to be an odd thing to say but I really do love words. They're so much fun to play with.

Take a word like "obfuscate" which means to "render obscure, unclear, or unintelligible," (from the Mac Dictionary). Just pronouncing the word obfuscate makes your mouth work, twisting your tongue and lips into odd, uncomfortable shapes. And just look at the word - all those odd consonants and vowels jumbled together. The way the word sounds and even the way it looks perfectly conveys its meaning. That is a kick ass word!

And I love how a word that normally means one thing can be used in an unexpected way or in an unexpected context and it still makes sense - you know exactly what it's trying to say.

At my church, the sound equipment is located in a tiny loft that is only accessible by a retractable ladder. I usually run sound at the 5PM evening service so I use the ladder quite a bit. Well recently, I'd been noticing that the piece of wood that the ladder was attached to seemed to be pulling out and I was worried about something going awry (that's another great word). I shared my concerns with leadership and they had some people look at it and they said that the problem was merely a cosmetic one - that the box to which the ladder is attached is secure and sturdy. But to ease my concerns, they added some reinforcement and that put my fears to rest.

I share this story because when the engineer took a look at the ladder and said he was going to add reinforcement, the word he used was "beef," as in, "I'm going to add some beef up there." And even though he wasn't going to lather the anchor point in hamburger meat, I instantly knew what he meant. I love that about our language.

And one last brilliant example before I get to the poem.

Take a look at this line by one of my favorite singer/songwriters, the late great Kristy MacColl (two links there):

"But I'm not crazy, no I'm just mad. . ."

That's genius right there, even out of the context of the rest of the song. It's brilliant because in that line, the word "bad" means two different things (mad as in angry or mad as in insane) and the fact that the line makes sense both ways gets you that much more in the head of the character in the song.

The English language is just so much delicious fun.


"Hunt the Thimble" by Allison Smythe

That game we played as kids:
You're getting warm. . . warmer. . . warmer. . . hot!
maneuvering as if by remote control for the hidden
thing -- someone's red sock, lollipop, or secret

note, knowing the hunt was richer than the prize.
It's not so simple now if it ever was
simple, the universe as we have known it
inflating in theories of everything.

Hints lie everywhere like feathers
in a chicken coop, scattering just as you
bend to pick one up. God, the child's
game, with all his halls of doors.

It started with a word
in a language that never was and every stab
at translation in our currency of morning
and night, of skinned knees and long departures

slants a bit of the original intent and thus complicates
the game. Maybe it's all the concrete under
our feet or that mountains eventually hitchhike
to the sea or that I haven't read every book

not yet written that makes time something that needs
to be found and cut loose from space; perhaps
there is something like light that we have
not yet detected but can't stop looking

for and the one who hid it laughing
because there is always another door
cold. . . colder. . . colder
and the hider always has the most fun.


You know, it struck me while copying this poem, how apropos it is for this month of December. It's been a great year overall but this month has been difficult and not just because of Christmas. I know of at least three friends at my church who have lost loved ones this month and I know there have been others at my church who have suffered the same. Just in this month.

And honestly, even for myself, it's been a hard month. Writing that post a few weeks ago about love - it made me face some uncomfortable realities in my own life and even though I like to think that my life is on a pretty even keel overall, I wonder if I'm just ignoring the hidden rot underneath.

And even though that poem seems to end on a dour note, there is (THERE IS!) "something like light" to be found even as we stumble towards and away from it. And to bring it all, clumsily, back to Christmas, isn't that what Advent is all about? The fact that Light came into the darkness via a baby in a manger to show us the way. And this Light remains.

Merry Christmas, all.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

285. going back to school at Berkeley and MIT...sort of

The internet is amazing. So much better than television.

Did I mention that I don't have a TV where I live? It's funny because whenever I go to a friend's house where the TV is on, I sit rapt in attention, glued to the tube regardless of what's on. I mean it's not that I miss having a TV because back when I was in Hawaii, the television was my crack cocaine. I was an addict. I'd sit down to watch a show while eating dinner and next thing I knew, it was 2AM and I was watching yet another infomercial. And this wasn't a rare occurrence. So like I said, when I'm at a friend's house and the TV is on, I watch the way a recovering alcoholic watches their friends drink.

Not that I miss it. The other day I was at someone's house and we were watching NBC's Battle of the Choirs. What a heaping pile of a show. And what's up with Nich Lachey's choir winning out over Patty LaBelle's? Lame-o!

Anyway, back to the internet.

I found out recently that UC Berkeley posts some of their courses online for FREE. And you don't even need to sign up or anything. You just click on the class you want to sit in on and watch. I'm currently watching the Physics for Future Presidents course - a basic survey of fundamental physics principles. I've also got my eye on the Integrative Biology classes.

Also, a friend recently put a link up on facebook to online courses that MIT offers!

I am in geek heaven.

I must have been a really good boy this year because Santa has hooked me up.

Monday, December 17, 2007

284. tell me about love (part 2)

Couple weekends ago I was asked to play drums at my church's morning services (two morning services). During the second service, the band gets together during the sermon (since we've already heard it during the first service) and hangs out so we can get to know one another better or catch up on what's been going on. This week, the worship leader asked an interesting ice-breaker type question. He asked us to share something that no one or very few people knew about us - something we felt comfortable sharing.

I shared that I'd never had a girlfriend but not for lack of trying. When I shared that, I thought it was something only my closest friends knew but after thinking about it later, I realized that I had already shared this fact in my blog (see entry 162). So I guess it wasn't as much of a secret as I thought it was. Maybe I should have shared how I went skinny dipping in the ocean in the first early hours of January 1, 2000 (true story).

I'm not sure how the other members of the worship team took what I shared about being single, but it's funny because later that day while we were packing and cleaning up after church, the worship leader asked me if I'd be willing to go out with someone who was Chinese. In jest, told him I'd go out with anyone with a pulse. The truth of the matter is, the list of things I'm looking for in a significant other is pretty long and esoteric (see blog 62 and 275) but I'm open to the idea that the person I end up with might be someone I never would have expected so consider this an invitation to set me up at will.

All that said, I've also written before about how after years of longing, pining, craving a girlfriend, I've found ample contentment as a single man. And I have. Among other things, I've come to appreciate the freedom being single affords. I can go where I want, when I want. I can eat whatever I want wherever I can get it. And that's one less gift I have to buy this year.

But in the back of my mind, I know I'm missing out.

In my previous post about love, I wrote a bit about 1 Corinthians 13. Paul ends that epistle with this line, "And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love," (1 Corinthians 13:13).

Honestly? If asked, I suppose I could rattle off a list of ideas that I think describe love but it would be like me describing the surface of the moon - I've seen pictures but I've never really been there.

And I've heard it said that in order to get love you've got to give love. But how do you give something you don't understand? When I heard this idea, I figured the best way to show love would be to give of myself to others - to help in what ever ways I could and I think (at least I like to think) that those who know me will say that I'm someone who will drop what I'm doing at the drop of a hat if I see someone with a need that I can fill.

But what if that's not how love works?

Take a look at this other piece from 1 Corinthians 13 - this time from Eugene Peterson's paraphrase, The Message:

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love. 1 Corinthians 13:1-7

Ouch.

What if all the generosity I gave that I thought was love was just "the creaking of a rusty gate?"

What if I have no idea what love is?

Because (and maybe this is the secret that few people know about me) I don't think I know what love is.

And that's a pretty screwed up thing to write but there it is.

Well, let me clarify that a bit. Of course there are people in my life who I love - family, the guys in my band, friends back in Hawaii, new friends in Seattle - but even with these people, it's sometimes hard for me to know how to love them. I know I love them, but how so? How do I show it, how do I live that out?

And if I have uncertainties about loving those I love, how am I supposed to love my neighbor or my enemy or Harold?

[insert long pause (say, 20mins) where I'm staring at the screen, wondering if I should write this next bit]

I hesitate to write this because, to me, it sounds terribly self-indulgent and selfish and spoiled but it's where this entry is headed so I may as well just go there.

See. . .

I. . .

I wonder if I'm not sure what love is because I don't think I've felt loved in a really long time.

Is that okay to say?

There's a really popular book which I haven't read but I've heard a lot of people talk about it so I'm vaguely familiar with its concepts. It's called The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman. In it, Chapman talks about five "languages" of love - five different ways that people experience and give love. They are:

1. Words of Affirmation
2. Quality Time
3. Receiving Gifts
4. Acts of Service
5. Physical Touch.

I don't think I speak any of those languages.

Well, let me qualify that. I think I show love to others though acts of service. But I don't know if that's how I receive love. In fact, looking at Chapman's list, I'm not sure if any of those is how I receive or feel loved.

There are lots of different versions of this Love Languages book. There's a Men's edition, a children's edition, and a teenager's edition. I think I need a geeky introvert edition. I'd feel loved if he wrote that.

I guess I write all of this to make this point. I wonder if the easiest way to learn about how to love and be loved is to, well, be in love - ideally with someone who loves you back. And so I wonder if I need to get over the comfort I've found as a single person and put myself back out there and try and find someone I can grow old with.

I don't know.

So tell me about love.

What's the best way to give and receive love?

What is it about modern society that makes it so hard to express and/or feel loved even as we are supposedly more "connected" through cell phones and email?

Should I get off my lazy, single ass and put myself out there more?

Lastly, I got no game when it comes to dating. Does anybody think reading this book would help me learn some moves?

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

283. What It's Like to be Shy (fiction)

I was about to start on this week's post when (for some reason...probably to delay the actual work of writing) I took a look at my "secret" blog where I used to post pieces of fiction that I was working on. I haven't put anything up there in months (like since April).

Anyway, I'm looking again at what I had posted there and I came across this little story and I was cracking up because it was so much fun (if I can be so modest). And I thought I'd share it with ya'll.

Just a note, this is FICTION! It might sound like me and while it's loosely based on me, it's not about me (mostly).

Hope you like it.

What It's Like to be Shy

At The Coffee Shop:

I dress anonymously. I avoid color and fashion. Blue jeans and a dark (but not too dark) shirt.

I sit in the corner and face the window. I used to face the wall but one of my friends (one of four) told me it makes me look a bit crazy and kept me from blending in.

I scan the crowd but avoid eye contact. At the window in the front of the shop there is a row of barstools and a counter where patrons rest their lattes while flipping through the local weekly or write on their laptops. Sometimes I'll spot a woman sitting there whose hair style attracts me and I imagine that she has a face with a beauty unique to my quirky aesthetic. Sometimes she turns and shatters the illusion, but more often than not, all I ever get is her ear lobe and the curve of her chin. And that can be enough.

At the Barber Shop:

When I get a trim, I always hope for a stylist who just cuts hair, who doesn't bother with small talk.

I would never say this, because that would be too forward of me, but as I'm sitting in their chair, I always think to myself, "please, please, just cut my hair. Don't ask me how my day has been. Don't ask me what I do for work or for fun. Don't ask me if I've seen any good movies. Don't ask me about the latest reality show."

"Just ask me how I want my hair done (short and thinned out), ask about my sideburns if you must (just even them out), but overall, just let your scissors do the talking and I promise a generous tip in return."

In a Group Setting (say at a staff meeting):

People are often surprised at my insight and willingness to speak up. They think that because I am soft-spoken and reserved one-on-one that I would be more so in a formal group setting.

What they don't understand is that it's the personal part of personal interaction that I find acutely uncomfortable. Speaking in front of a crowd is easy because in a group, people become anonymous, impersonal, other. And when someone from the group responds to what I say, they are responding to the idea presented not to me, and that makes me feel safe.

Sometimes after a meeting where I had been especially vocal, a person will come up to me and ask if I would be interested in discussing my ideas further with them, perhaps over lunch. I find a polite way to tell them I can't and that surprises them. I don't tell them this, of course, but I decline because that's just too much, too close for comfort.

Perhaps I miss out on promotions this way, and I'll admit that it's frustrating to watch people with an abundance of social skills but a dearth of intelligence work their way up the pay scale, finally settling in a position where their ignorance can flourish.

At the Bookstore:

I head first for the magazine rack, but my time there is short - catching up on the latest computer news and reviews. Most of my time is spent among the Literature shelves, particularly the New Fiction section.

Some recommend meeting women in the grocery store but that seems wrong to me. How much can you learn about a person based on vegetables, meats, and starches? I find the bookstore much more telling. I mean if I see a woman smelling the rind of a cantaloupe, what does that tell me, that she likes fresh fruit? But if I see a woman flipping through Sylvia Plath, I know she's hurting something bad. If she's reading Jane Austin, I'm thinking she's probably got impossibly high standards. Jack Kerouac tells me she's probably too bohemian for me and Toni Morrison that I'm not smart enough for her. And on and on. Much more informative.

Of course, being as shy as I am, all I ever do is watch. . .or what's the more modern word for it? I lurk. And if I see a woman reading Douglas Coupland or Michael Chabon or T.C. Boyle, I just dream about what might be if I had bravado, and lines, and looks.

In My Dreams:

I'm taller and better looking. I dress better because I know how to dress better. I'm smooth and suave. I have women at hello.

I had a phase where I dated casually and widely. I unintentionally stole a couple girlfriends from their boyfriends though I didn't know it at the time. However, I am now past all that exploration because I have found the love of my life. She is warm, witty, sharp, and in possession of natural, effortless beauty.

We work at our relationship. We do our best to fight fair. We agree to never hold grudges and we try not to.

I enjoy spoiling my love with style and surprise. I send her random, gooey text messages while she is at work - things like, "all u ever have to be is u and I'll fall in love over and over again." I imagine her reading those messages in the middle of a meeting. I imagine her hiding her smile behind her hand, pretending to cough. After the meeting is over she shows the message to her girlfriends and they laugh while wondering why their boyfriends aren't as wildly romantic.

She finds surprising ways to return my favors. She sneaks a secret cup of pudding into my lunch bag. She draws a heart on the back side of my spoon so I don't notice it until one of my coworkers points it out. He laughs at me just as her coworkers laughed at her but he laughs for a different reason, though deep down inside where he'll never admit it, he laughs for the same reason.

[the end]

BTW, if you'd like a link to my "secret" story blog, email me (lonetomato at yahoo dot com) and I'll send you the link.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

282. preliminary thoughts on Faith and Race

I've mentioned before that through the past few weeks I participated in a class my church put on called Faith and Race. It was an eye-opening, challenging, paradigm-challenging experince. So much so that I hardly know where to start thinking/writing about it, but one of the first issues we discussed was that of privilege - White privilege in particular.

Now let me say up front that as an Asian-American who grew up in Hawaii, I come from a unique (compared to the mainland) background. According to what I could find on the U.S. Census Bureau website, in Hawaii, Asians make up almost 40 percent of the population while Whites account for about 26 percent. In contrast, even in a city as diverse as Seattle, Asians make up about 13 percent of the population while Whites account for nearly 70 percent. This means that my experiences growing up Asian-American were very different from that of Asian-Americans who grew up on the mainland.

I mention this because one of the things we learned in our class was the idea that more often than not, people who have privileges because of their race never have to think about, acknowledge, or otherwise be aware of their privileged status. In contrast, those without privilege are constantly confronted by the fact that their life is different from those who hold privilege.

Those are pretty loaded statements so let me unpack them a bit by talking about why I say growing up Asian-American in Hawaii is different from growing up Asian-American in the mainland.

In Hawaii, it was no problem for me to find people who looked like me and understood my cultural background. I grew up with lots of other Asian-American kids around me in school and in my neighborhood. Teachers knew how to pronounce my last name without asking. Among my peers, it wasn't hard to find role models who looked like me. The cool kids were Asian-American. The bullies were Asian-American. The jocks were Asian-American. The homecoming king and queen were often Asian-American. That's not to say that there weren't any White or African-American kids around, there were, but the point I'm trying to get across is that in Hawaii as an Asian-American, I didn't feel out of place and I never had to think about how my ethnicity affected me.

In the Faith and Race class, it was painful to hear some of the Asian-Americans in my group talk about their experiences growing up in the mainland. For them, their race walked into the room before they did. In other words, when they walked into a new classroom, the first thing the other kids would see was not another student but another Asian student - another other. They were instantly stereotyped - imprinted with whatever images non-Asians had of them - and they had to actively work past these stereotypes (often one person at a time) before they could be seen for who they truly were.

Growing up in such an environment takes its toll. And it's not like the problems are confined to high school. These experiences take on different forms in adulthood and only serve to reinforce the conscience/unconscience/subconscience idea that as an Asian-American, they are not the norm.

When we talked about privilege in the Faith and Race class, I felt like someone who had been on both sides of the fence. In Hawaii, I was part of the group that enjoyed privilege but now, in Seattle, I am outside of that group. One of our readings for that class was White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack by Peggy McIntosh, and in her article she lays out a long list of conditions that benefit her because she is white.

In our class, we used this list in an exercise where we looked at each item and answered "yes" or "no" as to whether we could claim that privilege in our lives. We tallied up our individual responses and the class facilitator asked those who were able to check off forty to fifty items to stand on one side of the room, those with zero to ten to stand on the other side of the room and also designated areas in between for those with ten to twenty and twenty to thirty. Most people were at the ends of the room, kind of like an inverse bell curve.

It was a stark reminder of just how divided we still are in this country because of race.

For me, the difficult and interesting part of this exercise was realizing how my responses would have been different if I were back in Hawaii. For example, the first quality of privilege listed was "I can if I wish arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time." And I could say "yes" to that in Hawaii but not in the mainland.

I make it a point to state up front that I grew up Asian-American in Hawaii because I don't know what it's like to be a minority the way Asian-Americans in the mainland do and because of that, I feel as if I'm in a kind of odd situation. I want to talk about my thoughts coming out of the Faith and Race class but my perspective is different from those of mainland Asian-Americans, so please don't take the things I write as definitive in any way in regards to the Asian-American experience. I'm just some guy who's trying to think through some issues of race through his blog.

But.

But before I say more about faith and race and racism, I realize that I need to read up on the subject a bit more. I feel now the way I did years ago when I first started asking fundamental questions about Christianity. I knew there were ideas that I had about being a Christian that just didn't sit right with me but I wasn't sure why. It took a lot of reading, a lot of writing, and countless hours staring at my computer screen trying to think things through but I finally have some...not answers, but a kind of rough sketch of beliefs that have made Christianity more practical and real and livable for me. I've been sharing a kind of summary of my most recent thoughts about being a Christian in what I've recently called my Layman's Theology Series (ongoing...stay tuned for more episodes).

So to continue my education on issues of race and racism, I picked up Dr. Beverly Daniel Tatum's book, Why Are All The Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? I'm only a few pages into it but I already feel my perspective on the world opening up.

I realize that I'm opening a huge can of worms, but I love living in America and being an American (and Asian-American). I think it's the best place on earth to live but there are a lot of huge problems that this nation will have to deal with if the American experiment is to live on. Race is certainly one such issue. As the racial makeup of America continues to change (census data project that whites will be a minority in America by as soon as 2040), issues of race and racism will continue to come into play.

If I have one minor criticism of my church's Faith and Race class, it's that while it did a great job of highlighting the problems (subtle and not so) of racism, we never went on to talk about potential solutions and how Jesus would have us (as individuals and as the body of Christ) move forward.

But I understand. Advocating solutions in issues of racism is a touchy subject but I believe that the metaphor of the Kingdom of God that Jesus speaks so much about is a kingdom where the problem of racism no longer exists. I also believe that as christians, we have an obligation to work towards this vision of the kingdom, and it would help to have some ideas about what that might look like.

But you can't deal with a problem unless you know what it is and for helping me take the first steps in better understanding the problem, I'm truly, superlatively grateful for the class.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

281. tell me about love (part 1)

You know, it's happened twice already. I write about some frustrating situation at work and through the process of venting on the page, I come to some epiphany that helps make sense of what I do (see blog 267 and 277). But you know, despite these new insights, somehow my coworker seems to find innovative new ways to just plain piss me off.

I don't really want to get into the latest ways he's been getting on my nerves. I want to delve a bit deeper into what I wrote about in my last post about work. In that entry, I talked about how I decided to try my best to treat Harold as a hard-working peer even though he's actually a hardly-working one. And for a couple weeks, it went really well. I mean, he didn't work any harder or faster but he seemed to be in a better mood. As for myself, because I wasn't always scrutinizing Harold - watching him out of the corner of my eye to catalog all the ways he wasn't working - I was able to relax as well and just do my job.

But you know, just when I think I've seen the limits of his poor work ethic and lack of empathy for the amount of work I put in, Harold somehow manages to find a new way to just frustrate the hell out of me.

But that's not what I want to talk about because it's really just more of the same ole situation.

There's something else I've been thinking about. See, the reason I decided to try and treat Harold as a peer was because I took a fresh look at some of the things Jesus said in the Gospels - in particular, the bit where he talks about loving your neighbor as yourself and loving the less than perfect the way God loves us.

And the bit that's tripping me up is that word, "love."

In 1 Corinthians 13:1-3, Paul talks about how doing what seems like holy work without love is equivalent to banging a cheap cymbal. And then he goes on to describe love in that passage you hear at so many weddings (appropriately so, I might add):

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Now if those are the elements of love then how am I doing at work with Harold?

1. patient - most of the time (1).
2. kind - try to be (1).
3. does not envy - there are times when I wish I could just sit around instead of breaking my back lifting boxes but besides that, there's not a whole lot about Harold that I envy (1).
4. does not boast, is not proud - I sometimes complain to one of our drivers, telling him how much work I've done that day compared to Harold so I guess I fail on this one (0).
5. is not rude - nope, not me (1).
6. is not self-seeking - nah...although I'm hoping for a generous raise once my yearly review comes around (1).
7. not easily angered - that's me (1).
8. keeps no record of wrongs - I try to forgive and forget but it's hard when Harold keeps reminding me (0).
9. does not delight in evil - I don't like evil (1).
10. rejoices with the truth - that's why I blog (1).
11. always protects - well, I haven't reported my complaints about Harold to my boss yet, does that count as protecting him (0)?
12. always trusts - I don't trust Harold (0).
13. always hopes - I do hope he'll do better (1).
14. always perseveres - well, I'm still working there...(1)

Ten out of fourteen ain't bad right?

But here's the thing I've been thinking about. Is living out the qualities of love that Paul lays out really love? I don't think so. The qualities that Paul lists are like signposts or indicators that show that a person is motivated by love. In this way, I think it's an all or nothing list.

Here's what I mean. Pregnancy tests work not by going in and verifying that an egg has been fertilized and has attached itself successfully to the uterine wall, they work by detecting the chemical/hormonal changes that take place once those things have happened. In other words, the test doesn't verify actual conception, it tests for signs that conception has occurred. Now in order to weed out false positives, the tests look for a multitude of indicators. If it doesn't find all the right signs, it returns a negative result. (Don't ask me how I know this.)

So I picture Paul writing this letter to the Corinthians and he comes up with this list of qualities that describe someone motivated by love. This is the last thing he writes in this letter and it's pretty long already so I'm thinking he's not all that interested in compiling a comprehensive inventory. Instead, he highlights the sure-things, the things that have to be there if someone is truly motivated by love. So these are the essentials, the bare minimums, and like the pregnancy test, if you ain't got all the signs, you ain't really lovin'.

There's another reason I know I don't treat Harold with love. I have zero respect for the guy. I don't know how to respect someone who consistently takes on the lightest workload possible (leaving me to do the heavy lifting), someone who doesn't check his work (twice in the past couple months I've had to hunt through the shelves to find boxes that Harold scanned in wrong), someone who complains when a rush order comes in because it means he'll have to get up out of his chair and actually do something (since I'm probably already out in the racks working on something else).

But he's my neighbor and Jesus wants me to be Jesus to Harold.

It's so hard to remember that Harold has been fearfully and lovingly made by God, that he is not beyond redemption. It's so hard to look past all the sin that's distorting the beauty God gave him. But that is my job as a christian.

I don't know.

Tell me about love. How do I love this guy? Does going through the motions of love count for anything? What would loving Harold look like?

Saturday, November 17, 2007

280. stay tuned..

I apologize again for not keeping up with my one-post-per-week "rule." I had another friend visiting from Hawaii last week and that cut into my time quite a bit but that's not the only reason I didn't write.

There's something that stirring in my subconscious - I can sense it but it's just brewing, sorting itself out beneath the surface. I'm not exactly sure what it is. To be honest, it could be something as mundane as a new idea about the lunch I make to eat at work. Or it could be some profound breakthrough as to how I can change the world through the way I live out my belief in Christ.

That's not to say there's nothing on the conscious side of the brain that I'm working on. There's quite a bit on the plate there as well. One item I've been thinking about lately - the other night at my church's Faith and Race class, we saw a powerful short film about race and racism called The Color of Fear. It's a pretty brutal film that highlights just how far we still need to go in terms of race reconciliation. This film, as well as the readings and the teachings I've been going through in this class, has given me lots to think and write about. But I'm not quite ready to do so yet.

On another note, I just discovered that they sell poi at Uwajimaya! Next week is the final week for the Faith and Race class and we're having a pot luck where people are encouraged to bring something unique (or not) that they grew up eating. I already knew of a place where I could buy Spam musibi (and yeah, I know I could make it myself but I'm far too lazy and sloppy in the kitchen) and so I was planning on bringing that but then I had a brilliant idea.

If you've never had it before, poi is cooked taro that's been mashed into a paste. It's an acquired taste. People who try it for the first time describe it as purple Elmer's glue. So my plan is to take poi to the pot luck. I'm guessing that most people will taste a bit of it before politely moving on to the next dish which means that at the end of the night I'll be able to take the bulk of it back home with me.

Yeah, I'm evil like that, but there are few things better in this world than poi for breakfast.

Thanks for reading and stay tuned.

Sunday, November 04, 2007

279. thoughts on communion

The act of taking communion (aka the eucharist) is supposed to be way up there when it comes to the sacred rites of the church. Indeed, in some denominations, the act of taking communion is considered the high point of the service. The rite is observed in a variety of ways - I've experienced everything from very formalized, liturgical services to very informal ones where the elements were placed on a table at the front of the church and people were invited to partake as they felt led (taking a piece of bread and dipping it in the grape juice/wine). There was even one service I attended where the ushers passed out tiny covered plastic cups filled with grape juice. At first I couldn't figure out where the body/bread part of communion was until I noticed that the "lid" of the cup had two layers to it. Under the clear top layer was a tiny wafer that symbolized the bread and below that was the actual cover for the juice. You were supposed to peel back the top layer to get the wafer and then peel back the second layer to get at the juice. Surreal, to say the least.

It's still rather embarrassing to admit this but until a couple years ago, I had only the vaguest notion of what it was I was doing while taking communion. I mean I understood that we were remembering Jesus and obeying his command to "do this in remembrance of me" (1 Corinthians 11:23-25), and that the wine and the bread symbolized Jesus' blood and body, and while I suppose those are the nuts and bolts of what's happening, it just didn't feel all that meaningful for me. I did my best to participate with a sincere heart. I tried to think of Jesus dying on the cross for my sins, I tried to confess my sins before partaking so I could receive the elements cleansed, but I still didn't get it. I mean, it just felt like going through the motions.

Before moving to Seattle, I was a part of a house church back in Hawaii. We took turns teaching on Sundays and although I can't remember how it happened, I got picked (or maybe I volunteered) to share a message about communion. Actually, now that I think about it, I do remember a bit of how this teaching opportunity came about.

We had been meeting as a house church for a few months when someone observed that we had never had communion. We all felt bad about this and so the next week we brought bread and wine and decided to give it a go. One of the features of our house church was that it was very open and discussion oriented. Before we shared the communion meal, someone asked the simple question, "what are we doing this for?" And then one by one we began to admit that beyond rote Sunday school answers, we didn't really know. Despite our ignorance, we broke bread anyway but we also said one of us should do some research and share what they learned. And then I got picked...or maybe I volunteered, I still can't remember that part.

I put nose to grindstone. I read the accounts of the Lord's supper in the Gospels and the bit in 1 Corinthians 11 and 12, but I had heard these portions of scripture so often that they didn't help much. So I consulted the all-knowing Wikipedia, but that just gave me a raft of doctrinal history which was about as useful to me understanding communion as learning how to operate a printing press would be in learning how to read. I knew what I needed was to get in the heads of the disciples as they sat around the table with Jesus in the upper room - what were they thinking as they heard Jesus tell them to eat his body and drink his blood?

That's when I found N.T. Wright's book, The Meal Jesus Gave Us. An excellent book and while there are brief bits where he picks at some obscure doctrinal nits, it really helped me reach a deeper, fuller understanding of communion. Much of what follows came about with help from Mr. Wright's book. (I've put my own slant on it so if you disagree on my take on communion, don't slight his book, it's probably my mistake.)

In order to get a fuller understanding of communion, we need to take a trip in the way back machine - way back to 1500 BC, to Moses and the Exodus. I won't rehash the entire story but the salient points are these. The Israelites were held in captivity and made slaves of the Pharaoh until God spoke to Moses through a burning bush, instructing him to free his people and take them to a land that God had chosen for them - the promised land, flowing with milk and honey (Exodus 3:7-10). Ten nasty plagues ensued, culminating in the death of all the first-born children in Egypt. However, this plague passed over the Israelites. To this day, the Passover holiday is celebrated by Jews around the world as commanded by God. It's a time when they remember both their ancestors' suffering under slavery and the work God did to free them.

More significant for this discussion on communion, it's this Passover ceremony that Jesus shared with his disciples where he poured wine and broke bread and told us to do likewise (Matthew 26:17-19). As with everything else in Jesus' life, this is no coincidence - it's a date with deep, beautiful, nuanced meaning.

As I understand it, the Exodus is central to the identity of the Jewish people. Had God not led them out of Egypt through Moses, they say that they would still be living as slaves. In the same way, one of the central tenants of the christian faith is the idea that through the death of Jesus on the cross, those who believe and follow Christ are freed from being slaves to sin (Romans 6:6-7).

But the Passover story doesn't end with freedom. Once freed from Egypt, the Jews wandered the desert for forty years before being led to the land promised to them. And just as times of adversity build character, it was through this time of wandering that the "character" of the Jewish people was developed. Lauren F. Winner puts it this way in her excellent book, Girl Meets God:

"In The Star of Redemption, [Franz] Rosenzweig discusses [Jewish] time and calendars and holidays. About Pesach, he writes, 'The welding of people into a people takes place in its deliverance.' And that, it seems to me, is what both passover and Maundy Thursday are about - making a people. In the Exodus, the Jews are transformed from people into a people and at the Eucharist, instituted there at the Last Supper, we Christians are transformed into a people, too." (Winner 173)

I happen to believe that christians today are like those Jews wandering, stumbling, complaining towards the promised land. They were working their way to what would become Israel. We are working our way to the Kingdom of God - the time when Christ will come again to finish the work of redeeming this fallen world. For me, seeing the Eucharist in this way transforms what was once a staid, Sunday school answer - "we take communion to remember Christ's death on the cross" - into a vibrant reminder that we are all on a journey, that as bleak as the world seems, there is a promised land ahead of us. And I don't think it's a stretch to say that when Jesus instructed us to "do this in remembrance of me," he meant for us to remember both what he did on the cross as well as what he will do when he comes again.

[warning: unorthodox view ahead, please don't stone me]

To be honest, there are still times, while taking communion, that I find it difficult to remember what I'm supposed to be remembering. And I wonder.

As many churches do, my church celebrates communion every Sunday. Other churches I've attended took communion on a monthly or quarterly schedule. But for Jews, the Passover meal is a yearly event and as such, it's a big deal. The ceremony literally lasts all night and it's full of discussion on what the different foods symbolize. In taking communion every week, I have to fight the temptation to think of it as just that thing we do every Sunday.

I wonder if it would be better to take communion just once a year and to make it a really big deal. I think it'd be great to devote one service every year to a fuller discussion of the Last Supper and how Jesus was reworking the Passover celebration. Can you imagine how deep and meaningful drinking the wine and eating the bread would be on a Sunday like that?

Now I know some christians get together on Passover week to celebrate a christian Seder, but this is seen as kind of a fringe thing done only by hardcore christians. And I understand that devoting a Sunday service during Passover week to focus on communion would interfere with Easter Sunday but how about the week before or the week after or maybe some other date entirely?

I would love to see a Sunday where the whole church gets together and celebrates a Seder meal together...but that's just me and my two cents.

Monday, October 29, 2007

278. not slacking off...not exactly

Yeah, I didn't post last week. But I had friends from Hawaii in town.

Also, on Monday nights I've been attending a series my church is hosting called Faith and Race. Thoughtful, challenging stuff.

I'm ninety percent sure I can get to another post in the Layman's Theology series by the end of this week but right now I'm working on something to put on my bass drum.

Here's a preview:
BD2.5

There are places out there where you can send in a design and they'll custom make you a bass drum head but that route costs about $100.

I have other plans. Not sure if it's going to work but it'll be a helluva lot less than the mail-order version.

Wish me luck.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

277. cowboys and the kingdom of God

[PREFACE]

Earlier this week I mentioned that I would be adding another installment of the Layman's Theology series. I'm not sure if this entry qualifies because most of it is about a recent situation at work but I do talk a bit about the kingdom of God near the end. Maybe think of this as a practical, real-world application of some of what I've been writing about.

And a word of caution. I've written before about how I made it a point to swear less in my blog (I used to have a potty mouth...see blog 30) but sometimes you just gotta haul out the heavy artillery and drop the almighty f-bomb because no other word will do.

[END PREFACE]

So I haven't said much about what's been going on at work. I've written before about my workplace, - about how dehumanizing it can be and how hard it is to work with a certain coworker (code name: Harold).

These last couple months have been especially busy. I've been working like mad from the moment I start until the moment I leave but I still haven't been able to get on top of things. Thankfully, I've been able to maintain a kind of steady state of chaos (not letting it overwhelm me) but it hasn't been easy. And yeah, there are two of us in the department and so I suppose I should be using the pronoun "we" instead of "I" but you know that thing about eighty percent of the work being done by twenty percent of the workers? In this case, it seems like eighty percent of the work is being done by fifty percent of the workers: me.

Well earlier this week, I'd been noticing that a relatively low priority project (LPP) was really piling up. I asked Harold if he could take care of it. He responded that our boss (let's call him Leroy) had given him a special project (SP) to work on so he was too busy. I knew he was working on SP but it was from another department and I knew I had far too many more pressing matters in our department to get to LPP myself so right before I left for the day, I popped into Leroy's office and told him about the situation. Leroy told me that things in our department come before things in other departments. He said he'd talk to Harold and make sure he set aside his SP to work on LPP.

I've said before that Harold isn't exactly the easiest person to work with - he has a short fuse and he's not exactly what I would call efficient or organized. Now it's not like I walk on eggshells around him, but to be honest, I basically try to stay out of his way (which often isn't hard to do since he spends most of his day at his desk working on...something, don't ask me what because most of the work that needs to be done is out in the racks where the boxes and the files are...where I am).

Anyway, the next day, I knew Leroy was going to talk to Harold and I wasn't sure how he would respond. When I got there in the morning, things were cool and so I figured everything was copacetic. But then in the afternoon, Harold comes back from his lunch break and I see him grab the box that holds the files that have to do with LPP. It's a project that I'd worked on before and I didn't think that Harold had ever done it before so I casually offered to show him what to do but before I could even finish my offer, he brusquely interrupts me saying, "yeah, I know what to do."

Taken aback, I said okay, but there are two parts to this project. I knew the first half was very similar to other things we do on a regular basis but the second half is a bit different and so I went on to ask him to let me know when he was done with the first half so I could tell him about what was different about the second half. Again, before I could finish my offer, he interrupts and says, "hey, I've been doing this for over five years all right? I got it, okay?"

Now before I tell you how I responded, you need to understand something. Like I said before, the reason I wasn't able to get to LPP was because for the past couple months, things have been SUPER busy and no matter how much work I did or how fast I did it, I just couldn't get to the lower priority projects. During this time, Harold was spending the majority of his day working on SP - a project that he can do comfortably while sitting at his desk - while I worked my ass off out in the racks. There were a bunch of times when I'd walk by Harold's desk sweating after finishing yet another kick ass order and I'd see him just sitting at his desk casually working on SP. It didn't seem fair and it didn't seem right and while I just kept doing the best work I knew how, I'd be a bald-faced liar if I told you I wasn't irritated by this situation. But I bit my tongue and kept nose to grindstone.

Well all that latent frustration sprung to the surface upon hearing Harold's blunt/rude/abrasive response to my best attempts at merely offering to help. But while Harold has a short fuse and a loud pop, I have a long fuse and the most aggro response I could muster was to say, "alright, fine. If you got it, you got it." I shook my head, grabbed another order and headed back out into the racks to pull more files.

Of course what I really wanted to say was: "Hey, fuck you, you lazy mutherfucker. It's hard to believe you've worked here for five years seeing as how slow, lazy and unorganized you are. You know, you're so full of shit it's no wonder your breath stinks!"

But I didn't.

Yeah, I'm passive-aggressive. I'm working on it. But you gotta admit, that would have been a sweet response.

Anyway, while I was out pulling my order I calmed down a bit and thought about what I'd written before about trying to spread the kingdom of God at a workplace where I spend most of my time with boxes and files.

And then it hit me.

Yeah, I spend most of my day with inanimate objects but Harold is there as well even though I don't interact with him all that much (and not just because I try to avoid him). How stupid is it for me to be so proud of how I keep those lifeless boxes neat and organized while I secretly harbor gross, nasty thoughts about my living, breathing coworker?

I also thought about the book I've been reading during my lunch breaks, Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne. He calls himself an "ordinary radical" but his story is anything but ordinary - among other things, he spent a summer in Calcutta with Mother Theresa and he spent time in Iraq before and during the American shock and awe campaign. He would say that it's a shame that his life is seen as extraordinary because all he did was ask the simple question, "what if Jesus really meant what he said in the Bible," and everything else just followed as a result.

And so that got me thinking. What if Jesus meant what he said when he told us (me) to love our enemies? Now Harold isn't my enemy per se, but that loophole is covered by that bit where Jesus said the second greatest commandment is to love your neighbor as yourself and there's no weaseling myself out of that one.

And then that got me thinking. What if I include Harold in my little mission to live out the kingdom of God at my workplace? I mean, what if I look past all the shortcomings I see in him and treated him the way I would if he were a kick ass filing and box-shelving machine? Because I really believe that as a christian, the way the kingdom of God gets spread is by living now the way I would if the fall had never happened or the way I will after Jesus comes again to restore the world. If I believe that then why shouldn't I do my best to treat Harold as a peer?

I mean, what if Harold wasn't always this way? What if life has been really shitty to him and that's why he is the way he is now? What if he only does the minimum to get by at work because he's the kind of person Bruce Springsteen was thinking of when he wrote the lines: "end up like a dog that's been beat too much / 'til you spend half your life just covering up." What if he's hyper-defensive because other coworkers in the past have treated him poorly.

And that led to more questions: What if I did my best to treat Harold with respect? What if I tried treating him the way Jesus would if he were working here? What if Matthew 5:46 were translated this way:

"If you only treat hard working coworkers with respect then what reward will you get? Is not your boss already doing that?"

I'm sure there are some who would say that I'm an idiot, that I should bitch and moan to Leroy about the way Harold works, that I shouldn't stand for this kind of injustice.

Maybe they're right to raise those objections but again, what if Jesus meant it when he talked about an entirely new way of living in his Sermon On the Mount - a way of living where love and grace are extended to all, regardless?

According to the rules of this world, it's backwards, upside-down, inside-out, but I'm not a citizen of this world. This week at my Bible study we looked at John 3 where Jesus tells Nicodemus that "no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again." And one of the things we discussed is the idea that being "born again" means adopting an entirely new way of living which can (should) be different from the normal way of life.

Back when I lived in Hawaii, every once in a while (usually in Waikiki or in other spots frequented by tourists) I'd see someone walking around with a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and a huge belt buckle. They'd stick out like sore thumbs because the standard dress code in Hawaii is shorts, t-shirt, and slippers (aka flip-flops). But I think that's kind of what it's like to be a christian. I mean, we don't dress different but we live different - we love the unloved, we extend grace where judgement should be, we live now the way we would if the fall had never happened, the way we will in heaven.

I thought all these crazy things our there in the racks, pulling my order, and when I was done, when I went back to my desk to verify my items, I walked over to Harold and apologized to him. I told him that I didn't mean to imply that he didn't know how to do his job and that if I gave him that impression then I was sorry.

He said, "don't worry about it," and I couldn't tell how he took what I said but I figured I'd just take his response at face value and I replied, "cool, thanks."

I don't know.

Maybe he'll never change. Maybe he'll think I'm a schmuck and take advantage of my willingness to put up with his work ethic. Maybe he won't even notice that I'm trying to be nice to him.

Doesn't matter to me...well, that's not entirely true. It's still a huge struggle to not think of Harold as a lazy bum but I'm going to do my best (so help me God) to be Jesus to Harold - to practice preemptive forgiveness and grace. Because just as a cowboy walks through Waikiki with a huge Stetson hat on, I walk through life as a newborn citizen of the kingdom of God.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

276. target audience

I've been thinking about what to cover next in my Layman's Theology series (part 1, part 2). But I think I'll take care of a bit of business so I can set my mind at ease and get on with other posts.

See, there were two responses that I got to my post about salvation. One of them was on my Blogger blog and the other was on my pastor's blog. Both of them were very similar and I'm wondering if they were left by the same person. In my entry about salvation, I talked about how salvation isn't just about being saved from hell or being reconciled with God, it's about joining God in his plan to fix/heal/bless this broken/sick/cursed world. Both comments had to do with asking why one had to be a christian in order to be a part of making the world a better place. There are lots of non-religious organizations out there who are already at work bringing attention to and solving the problems I mentioned. What's the difference between them and christians who are doing the same things?

And I didn't have any good answers to give them. Really, those questions continue haunt me because they asked a fundamental question to which I had no adequate response. I've been letting them stew in the back of my mind all week but I'm still coming up goose eggs.

But I don't want to just leave the question hanging. I promised both people who commented that I would try and answer them in a future entry. Unfortunately, this isn't it. This is merely a kind of deflection or a delay tactic (basically an excuse) but I will make good on my word at some point.

Come to think of it, their question is a natural one for a non-christian to ask but the reason I didn't anticipate it was because of the audience I try to write for: christians who are dissatisfied with or are skeptical of what normally passes as christianity in many churches. I suppose that sounds like a pretty odd audience to target, especially for those who've never been a part of the christian subculture, but it's a group that I have tremendous empathy for because I was a member of that group for a substantial portion of my life as a christian.

The more great books I come across and the more amazing people I meet at my church, the more I'm convince of the fact that there's a growing groundswell of christians who want to live out their faith far beyond the walls of the church. There are lots of people asking the same questions I'm asking and that's another reason why I write - because after thinking about these questions for years I finally have some...not answers, that's too definitive of a word...ideas that I want to share because they point towards answers.

Of course I welcome any and all readers as well as all comments and/or questions. Stay tuned, I'm hoping to knock out another episode in the series by the end of this week (I'm giving myself a deadline as a way to spur myself onward).

Thursday, October 11, 2007

275. in the meantime

Yeah, I didn't post anything last week, sorry (I try to post at least one entry per week). And this post won't be much either but finishing that entry on salvation took a lot out of me. I mentioned in that post that I had spent around ten hours on that entry. It was probably closer to twenty. Anyone who thinks writing isn't work is just plain wrong (or far more talented than I and if that's the case then I hate you...in love, of course).

In the meantime, some miscellaneous items:

1. I gots lots more in store for the Layman's Theology series so stay tuned.

2. Speaking of that series, my pastor said some really nice things about my last entry on his blog and people left some really great comments. Pastor Eugene gets invited to speak all over the country (and the world) and so his blog has a wide readership. His little plug sent my hit counter through the roof which was tremendously encouraging.

3. I'm currently reading two books that really have my noodle stirring. The first is Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne. Just the other day, I was reading this book during my lunch break and realized that he's saying the same things I said, only much better and with more humor and with a lot more life experience to back it all up (among other things, he spent a summer in Calcutta with Mother Theresa before she died).

By the way, if what I'm writing is resonating with you at all, I highly, HIGHLY recommend picking up a copy of Irresistible Revolution. It's by far the best thing I've ever read and I don't say that lightly. You can read a very insightful review of the book here. And while I'm linking to their site, let me mention that the Hearts And Minds bookstore is a great place to find stelar christian writing - a welcome respite from the drivel that passes as christian writing in most christian bookstores (oops, was that too harsh?).

I actually found that book last week while looking for Brian McLaren's new book, Everything Must Change, which as it turns out wasn't out last week because it hit the shelves this week. I picked up McLaren's book this week and I'm only a few pages into it but I can already see that reading this book along with Claiborne's should be a very synergistic experience.

4. Speaking of synergistic pairings, I've been realizing that there have been a few other times in my life where I've read a pair of books that resonated with one another. A few examples:

Most recently, I've just finished The Cannon by Natalie Angiers, which I read along with The Language of God by Francis Collins (who I wrote about in post 271...btw, thanks for the book, Nate). Both books are about science - Angier approaching the topic from a strictly secular point of view while Collins talked about how science and religion need not be at odds with one another. Collins was instrumental in completing the Human Genome Project and currently serves as the director of the National Human Genome Research Institute so his scientific credentials are unquestionable. He also happens to be a devout christian who is troubled and saddened by the current climate where science and faith are commonly portrayed as irreconcilable ways of understanding reality. (As a note of warning, while I found Angier's survey of the various disciplines of science to be fascinating, her writing style was too clever for its own good - when given the choice between explaining something in a way that was cute or clever, she always went with cute, and that gets really irritating really fast.)

Also, this blog probably wouldn't exist if it weren't for my reading Anne Lamott's amazing memoir, Traveling Mercies and Donald Miller's now classic, Blue Like Jazz. Prior to reading these books, I thought writing about spiritual matters had to be done with absolute reverence or mind-numbing, christianese-fueled mediocrity. Lamott and Miller's writing showed me that you could write about life as a christian with verve, wit, clarity, and candor.

And since I've already mentioned McLaren, reading his previous book, The Secret Message of Jesus and N.T. Wright's book, Simply Christian, was enlightening and helped me work out a lot of what I've been writing about in terms of how I've come to re-understand christianity. Both books try to step back and hear the teachings of Jesus the way those in the first century would have heard them. (On a side note, what's up with McLaren's titles? The Secret Message of Jesus was far too provocative and Everything Must Change is far too boring.)

5. And I'll end with this.

I've written before about how early in 2006 I finally found contentment as a single person. Well recently I've begun to wonder if I should just conclude I'm one of those people who has the gift of singleness (see also 1 Corinthians 7).

I mean I've practically there already. I can count the number of dates I've had in the past ten years on one hand and that's including instances where it was just hanging out. I've said before that when one is single for a long time, one of two things happens. You either keep lowering your standards until you find someone because you just can't stand being alone or you keep raising your standards because it would take finding someone that much more amazing in order to give up the conveniences and comforts of being single. I've gone the second route to the point of absurdity.

If you must know, my preferences are as follows (in no particular order): christian, asian, smart, funny, outgoing, has short hair, wears glasses, is shorter than me, likes artsy movies, likes to read, likes coffee, prefers not to have kids, and has a British or Australian accent (and this is the short list). Know anybody like that?

Well, I recently saw a video on the TED website of a woman who comes close. She's not asian and I'm not sure if she's a christian and she doesn't have an accent but she's super funny, super smart, and the fact that she uses big words that I didn't understand before looking them up does things in me that are unmentionable in polite company. Her name is Erin McKean and she's the editor in chief (!) of The New Oxford American Dictionary. She's also really cute.

If the video below doesn't work, you can see her TED presentation by clicking here.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

274. thoughts on salvation

(Part three of the Layman's Theology series. You can find part two here.)

[preface]

Thanks to everyone who commented on part 2 (all of the comments are on the MySpace version of the blog). Theology isn't something that should be done in a vacuum. To the contrary, rethinking theology by one's self can lead to really bad places like Waco, Texas or Jonestown. So to keep me from starting my own cult, please feel free to comment, critique, or complain about anything in this series. Or pass a link along to someone who might be interested.

Thanks.


[end preface]

I've wrestled with this topic before in my blog (see post 191 and 251) and each time I've mentioned the fact that I don't have a complete understanding of what exactly salvation entails. As a kind of preface, let me say that this post won't be my last word on the subject but let me share my most recent thoughts.

Linking to my previous posts about salvation has been interesting for me because while rereading those posts, I was able to see a kind of progression. In post 191, I wrote about salvation as being freed from slavery to sin. In post 251 I talked about...actually, I'm not exactly sure what I was getting at but I think I was trying to say that in addition to the personal component of salvation, there is a societal aspect to the Gospel - that what Jesus ultimately wants to do is not just save individuals but also to save whole societies (and that's a loaded statement which I'll unpack later...perhaps in another entry).

I think both those posts are useful but they don't really get at answering one of the big questions I have about salvation. This question has to do with the first century church - a church that had to endure lethal amounts of persecution. As a christian, depending on where you lived, you could be subject to assault from the Romans who saw this new cult as a threat to the Pax Romana or from Jews who considered the teachings of Jesus to be blasphemy. Despite the fact that declaring one's self to be a christian could get you killed, christianity exploded across the continent such that a mere three hundred years after the death and resurrection of Christ, the emperor of Rome, Constatine I, legalized the worship of Christ with the Edict of Milan.

So my question is, what was it that those first christians found so compelling about the Gospel that they were willing to die for it? Because to be honest with you, if I had been living in an area where christians are persecuted today (places in the Middle East or South Asia, for example), I don't think I would have accepted Christ with the messages I heard here in America - that Jesus died so that I could have a "personal relationship" (a metaphor that I'm not entirely comfortable with - see post 270) with God. I mean, that would have been cool but I don't know if that would have been enough for me to adopt a life where I would likely be disowned by my family and ran the risk of being tortured and/or killed if my conversion was reported.

Or think of it this way. If I were a missionary in Sri Lanka, what would I be telling them about Jesus that would convince them to risk all that they hold dear?

That question, what is it about the Gospel that people then and now believe in such that they are willing to lay everything (every thing) down for it, has been a kind of litmus test for me as I've tried to rethink salvation. If it wasn't worth death then it wasn't good enough.

Now before I risk disappointing you all, let me state up front that I'm still working through this issue, but I'll share my current thoughts on it. And while I can't state with absolute certainty that I would die for my new understanding of the Gospel and salvation (because who can be certain until they're staring at the business end of a rifle), I can say that it has made the life I live now more meaningful, and that's a good start isn't it?

Okay then, here we go.

I think the best way to understand salvation is to think of it as signing on to be a part of a revolution - a movement to upend a world that has lost its way and to set things right again. That is the good news of the Gospel.

In the first two chapters of Genesis, God creates the cosmos and it is good, perfect, flawless. And then in chapter three, Adam and Eve, duped by the serpent, eat fruit off the tree of knowledge of good and evil.

And then the shit hit the fan.

Every instance of injustice, of betrayal, of meaningless suffering, rancor, and defeat can be traced back to that little taste. Pride, lust, envy, and every other dark need that drives us entered the scene, poisoning even our best intentions. Large to small, top to bottom, everything in the world that's not as it should be is torqued because of the fall. Everything from national stories like the racism that seeks to unequally punish the Jena Six or the incomprehensible fact that in the richest nation in the world, two years after the fact, New Orleans is still a tragedy; to international issues like the genocide in Darfur, the never-ending dispute in Israel, or the megalomaniacal government of Burma; down to the little nuisances of everyday life - drivers who don't know how to merge, people with fifteen items in the twelve item grocery line, stupid workplace situations.

All of these things because of the fall in Genesis three. As a result, everything else in the Bible from Genesis four through Revelation twenty two has to do with God helping us to get back what was lost. And this powerful play goes on and God commands us to contribute a verse!

Yes, Christ died so we could be freed from slavery to sin and be reconciled to God but that is ONLY THE BEGINNING. As precious as this freedom is, it's kind of like a fringe benefit or a signing bonus. It's not the point of accepting or following Christ. To me, the part of the Gospel that is worth more than life itself is the idea that through the work of Christ on the cross, we become a part of God's plan of redemption and reconciliation. It's like we're given a transfer from the wrecking crew to the repair crew. All the things that are wrong with the world - we become partners in God's plan to set all things right.

And it took me a long time to figure this out, but this work of repair happens on a variety of scales. Very few of us have the resources to tackle global or national problems but wherever we are, in whatever way we can, we are given the task of making our little piece of the world a better place - a place more in line with God's design for it.

A couple months ago, I wrote about how I realized that even though most of my day is spent with boxes and files, keeping those boxes and files as neat and organized as I can is as valid a way of living out my calling as any other (at least until this band thing gets played out). And writing this blog. Although it may not seem like it, I've probably put in close to ten hours on this entry, trying out different ways of saying things - exploring avenues, jettisoning whole sections that were superfluous or not getting at what I wanted to say. I write because it's a tool that God has given me and for me to not use it is simply sin.

Is the idea that we are saved into the task of remaking the world back into what it should be worth dying for? Is this something like what those in the first century church (and those in areas today where persecution still runs rampant) believed such that they were willing to be torn apart by lions or stoned to death? I don't think it's as simple as that - each person must have their own reasons for the faith they hold, but at least for me, it makes christianity something more (far more) than just a Sunday morning show. For me, this means that even though I have very little personal interaction at my workplace, keeping things in order even if nobody notices, even if I don't get any credit, even if the next person just goes in and messes things up again, I am doing my part to make my little bit of the world more like it would have if the fall had never occurred.

You know, having come this far in this entry, I realize that it's not that I want to redefine salvation. It's not that the Four Spiritual Laws are wrong - to the contrary, it is a clear way to explain some key theological concepts - it's just that, well, to be frank, it's too clean and clinical. It doesn't give me anything to sink my teeth into. It doesn't tell me how my life is supposed to change after accepting its statements.

To be fair, back when I was trained to use the Four Spiritual Laws tract, I was told to try to invite the person I was counseling to my church or get them hooked up with a church close to where they lived so they could establish deeper roots. Um...I don't mean to diss, but most churches (at least most that I attended) focus on what my pastor has occasionally referred to as spiritual narcissism - focusing so much on one's own spiritual health that one fails to be the blessing that they're called to be.

I don't want to be saved onto a treadmill of studying the Bible for the sake of looking like a know-it-all at church. I want to be saved into a mission to change the world for the better. And how does that happen? Well everyone's calling is unique but basically it involves doing whatever you can (with whatever you have, wherever you are) to make the world more like it would be if the fall had never happened or the way things will be when Christ comes again to set things right once and for all.