Saturday, May 22, 2010
Why I've been MIA
I had a baby on March 13th. I cannot BELIEVE how fast the time is flying. Here she is in all her cuteness.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Love and Tolerance
"Tolerance is not a Christian virtue. Love is a Christian virtue. Love is much more active than tolerance." (Quoted by the RUF minister at church today)
I was just thinking about the issue of tolerance earlier this week. It's a heavy word; it holds a lot of weight. It's a political word nowadays. It's a "nice" word. Someone who's tolerant is someone who is respectful, accepting. Well, that's what they'd have us believe anyway (and by "they" I mean anyone who would consider themselves tolerant).
In reality, tolerance is a really lazy verb. To tolerate means: a) to allow to be or to be done without prohibition, hindrance, or contradiction, b) to put up with. Hm... "to put up with." Wow, pat yourself on the back tolerators of the world.
I was watching a talk show and one girl had a sex change (she used to be a man) and another girl had a problem with it. The girl that had a problem was labeled as intolerant (and to be honest, she was), but I didn't have a problem with her intolerance. What I had a problem with was that this girl was extremely judgmental and mean, but when asked why she could only go back to, "Well, I'm from the South and that's not normal, and I'm a Christian." um... that was it. That's all she had to say... So the woman who had the sex change said that she liked living in the North because people were so much more accepting of her decision.
It's funny, because I am not the biggest fan of southern culture. I think it can be judgmental, stuck in old ways, and superficially sweet. However, I find it ironic that many people (who feel judged) will move to bigger cities in the North and say that those places are more accepting of their ways; they're more "tolerant." (Disclaimer: my point here has nothing to do with whether living in the North or South is better, and I don't think one is better than the other. People should live where they love to be.) It's ironic because I personally don't think the general culture in the North is any more accepting than anywhere else. Guess what... In New York City, where anything goes, it has nothing to do with the fact that everyone there loves you the way you are. Anything goes because nobody cares! Yeah, ya heard me. Nobody cares that you're gay, had a sex change, dropped out of school, whatever it is you feel judged about, because they're too caught up in their own lives to notice. And while that might be a welcome relief if you come from a place where everyone knows your name and story (and likes to tell your name and story to whoever will listen), it doesn't make you more accepted.
I guess my point is this: tolerance is not synonymous with acceptance. In fact, I think tolerance is an antonym of it. Tolerating something excuses a person from actually involving himself in whatever it is he's tolerating. "You do you, I'll do me."
I would propose that love is really the answer to tolerance. Love is active, it is probing, it doesn't leave well enough alone. In my life, I find the most love from those who will confront me. Those who actually love me will call me out because they care about me. None of us, not one of us, is above reproach. We all have hang-ups and sins that ensnare us. I don't want someone to just tolerate me, to just walk right past me without noticing I need help.
I think that most of the time Christians find it easier to jump on a soap box and blast people. That's almost as lazy as tolerating. It's a fine line to walk, knowing when and how to approach an issue that we know is sin. I know the answer is neither tolerance nor harsh judgment. The answer is love.
Again I am reminded of Jesus' encounter with the adulteress. When the men of her day brought her forward to kill her, Jesus tells them, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." They all walk away; who can argue with that? Jesus then kneels by the woman and tells her that there is no one left who will condemn her and that she must go and sin no more. He didn't deny that she was in sin, but He didn't condemn her (and I would like to also note that He didn't simply uninvolve Himself when the men brought her before Him)... What greater love than that?
The truth spoken in love. Sometimes it's a hard pill to swallow, I won't deny that. Love is not always easy, and it is not always smooth. It can cut like a knife when it needs to and it can mend any wound. The trouble is deciding whether we want it. Would we rather be loved? Or would we rather be simply tolerated?
I was just thinking about the issue of tolerance earlier this week. It's a heavy word; it holds a lot of weight. It's a political word nowadays. It's a "nice" word. Someone who's tolerant is someone who is respectful, accepting. Well, that's what they'd have us believe anyway (and by "they" I mean anyone who would consider themselves tolerant).
In reality, tolerance is a really lazy verb. To tolerate means: a) to allow to be or to be done without prohibition, hindrance, or contradiction, b) to put up with. Hm... "to put up with." Wow, pat yourself on the back tolerators of the world.
I was watching a talk show and one girl had a sex change (she used to be a man) and another girl had a problem with it. The girl that had a problem was labeled as intolerant (and to be honest, she was), but I didn't have a problem with her intolerance. What I had a problem with was that this girl was extremely judgmental and mean, but when asked why she could only go back to, "Well, I'm from the South and that's not normal, and I'm a Christian." um... that was it. That's all she had to say... So the woman who had the sex change said that she liked living in the North because people were so much more accepting of her decision.
It's funny, because I am not the biggest fan of southern culture. I think it can be judgmental, stuck in old ways, and superficially sweet. However, I find it ironic that many people (who feel judged) will move to bigger cities in the North and say that those places are more accepting of their ways; they're more "tolerant." (Disclaimer: my point here has nothing to do with whether living in the North or South is better, and I don't think one is better than the other. People should live where they love to be.) It's ironic because I personally don't think the general culture in the North is any more accepting than anywhere else. Guess what... In New York City, where anything goes, it has nothing to do with the fact that everyone there loves you the way you are. Anything goes because nobody cares! Yeah, ya heard me. Nobody cares that you're gay, had a sex change, dropped out of school, whatever it is you feel judged about, because they're too caught up in their own lives to notice. And while that might be a welcome relief if you come from a place where everyone knows your name and story (and likes to tell your name and story to whoever will listen), it doesn't make you more accepted.
I guess my point is this: tolerance is not synonymous with acceptance. In fact, I think tolerance is an antonym of it. Tolerating something excuses a person from actually involving himself in whatever it is he's tolerating. "You do you, I'll do me."
I would propose that love is really the answer to tolerance. Love is active, it is probing, it doesn't leave well enough alone. In my life, I find the most love from those who will confront me. Those who actually love me will call me out because they care about me. None of us, not one of us, is above reproach. We all have hang-ups and sins that ensnare us. I don't want someone to just tolerate me, to just walk right past me without noticing I need help.
I think that most of the time Christians find it easier to jump on a soap box and blast people. That's almost as lazy as tolerating. It's a fine line to walk, knowing when and how to approach an issue that we know is sin. I know the answer is neither tolerance nor harsh judgment. The answer is love.
Again I am reminded of Jesus' encounter with the adulteress. When the men of her day brought her forward to kill her, Jesus tells them, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." They all walk away; who can argue with that? Jesus then kneels by the woman and tells her that there is no one left who will condemn her and that she must go and sin no more. He didn't deny that she was in sin, but He didn't condemn her (and I would like to also note that He didn't simply uninvolve Himself when the men brought her before Him)... What greater love than that?
The truth spoken in love. Sometimes it's a hard pill to swallow, I won't deny that. Love is not always easy, and it is not always smooth. It can cut like a knife when it needs to and it can mend any wound. The trouble is deciding whether we want it. Would we rather be loved? Or would we rather be simply tolerated?
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Aren't we all?
Once, The Times of London asked famous authors to write an essay on the subject of 'What's Wrong with the World?'. G.K. Chesterton wrote in the form of a letter:
Dear Sirs,
I am.
Sincerely yours,
G. K. Chesterton
Dear Sirs,
I am.
Sincerely yours,
G. K. Chesterton
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Regina Spektor's song: Laughing With
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’re starving or freezing or so very poor
No one laughs at God
When the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God
When it’s gotten real late
And their kid’s not back from the party yet
No one laughs at God
When their airplane starts to uncontrollably shake
No one’s laughing at God
When they see the one they love, hand in hand with someone else
And they hope that they’re mistaken
No one laughs at God
When the cops knock on their door
And they say. "we got some bad news, sir"
No one’s laughing at God
When there’s a famine or fire or flood
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
Ha ha
Ha ha
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’ve lost all they’ve got
And they don’t know what for
No one laughs at God on the day they realize
That the last sight they’ll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes
No one’s laughing at God when they’re saying their goodbyes
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughing at God in hospital
No one’s laughing at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God when they’re starving or freezing or so very poor
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
We’re all laughing with God
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’re starving or freezing or so very poor
No one laughs at God
When the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one’s laughing at God
When it’s gotten real late
And their kid’s not back from the party yet
No one laughs at God
When their airplane starts to uncontrollably shake
No one’s laughing at God
When they see the one they love, hand in hand with someone else
And they hope that they’re mistaken
No one laughs at God
When the cops knock on their door
And they say. "we got some bad news, sir"
No one’s laughing at God
When there’s a famine or fire or flood
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
Ha ha
Ha ha
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God
When they’ve lost all they’ve got
And they don’t know what for
No one laughs at God on the day they realize
That the last sight they’ll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes
No one’s laughing at God when they’re saying their goodbyes
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they’re ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he’ll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one laughing at God in hospital
No one’s laughing at God in a war
No one’s laughing at God when they’re starving or freezing or so very poor
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
No one’s laughing at God
We’re all laughing with God
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Dwelling on the Melancholy... It's good for your soul.
"The mark of rank in nature
Is capacity for pain;
And the anguish of the singer
Makes the sweetest of the strain."
I have always known I am a melancholy person. What some would call "depressing" are the things that appeal to me. I love a story with struggle and hardship. I love a story when someone overcomes immeasurable odds to gain an unspeakable prize; I feel deeply when there is some great loss for the character in the story. The hunky-dory life just doesn't appeal to me in any way. I have to admit that sometimes I am a glutton for punishment and I make things harder on myself than they have to be. I tend to complicate things, and I never really understood why until recently (it sounds kind of masochistic, doesn't it?). I think I just feel wrong about having some things handed to me.
The fact is, sometimes they are handed to me, and I need to look at those things as sweet, undeserved blessings from God (like the growing baby inside of me). But I still think that too many times, at least in American culture, we expect things to be easy and we want them without conflict. Pain hurts and we just don't to deal with it. I think it's because of the expectation for life to be pain-free, that we face the most disappointing and discouraging times of our lives. Instead of trying to discover what purpose the pain serves, we try to avoid it at all costs.
Well... no hardship makes for a very boring story, and I'm not satisfied with living a boring story. I'm also not interested in engaging in someone else's boring story. (Does that sound harsh? Well, I really feel passionately about this!) I listened to Donald Miller talk about this idea of life being a story. He said that conflict is a vital part in any interesting or worthwhile story. Who ever read a good book that didn't have an on-going conflict, an obstacle to be overcome in order to get their desired end?
Maybe that's what's wrong with our culture and this idea that "life is meaningless." Well, I'm sorry to say it, but if you think all life is meaningless, maybe you're just living out a boring story and it's your life that is currently meaningless. I think God offers much more for our lives. He is the greatest storyteller. I am fascinated by God's words to Ananias, His servant, as He tells him to go and seek out Saul, who has just been blinded by the Lord on his way to Damascus (Acts 9.)
v. 15 - 16 "But the Lord said to Ananias, 'Go! This man [Saul] is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings and before the people of Israel. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name.'"
God planned the suffering of Saul (shortly thereafter called Paul) into the story of this man's life. And by the sound of it, He planned great suffering. And who is the most talked about apostle now? Who's writings and teachings are we constantly looking to? Paul, our favorite New Testament hero behind Jesus, had one of the most conflict and pain-stricken lives of anyone I've ever heard of. And His story was told and continues to be told.
So, I encourage you, and most certainly myself, to embrace the suffering of this life. Embrace the story God wants to tell through your life, however painful it may be. Think of the Apostle Paul, Job, Moses, the twelve disciples, Stephen who was stoned, and love the God who has His hand over all of it. And don't forget to sing in your anguish, because that song is the most beautiful story you will ever tell.
Is capacity for pain;
And the anguish of the singer
Makes the sweetest of the strain."
I have always known I am a melancholy person. What some would call "depressing" are the things that appeal to me. I love a story with struggle and hardship. I love a story when someone overcomes immeasurable odds to gain an unspeakable prize; I feel deeply when there is some great loss for the character in the story. The hunky-dory life just doesn't appeal to me in any way. I have to admit that sometimes I am a glutton for punishment and I make things harder on myself than they have to be. I tend to complicate things, and I never really understood why until recently (it sounds kind of masochistic, doesn't it?). I think I just feel wrong about having some things handed to me.
The fact is, sometimes they are handed to me, and I need to look at those things as sweet, undeserved blessings from God (like the growing baby inside of me). But I still think that too many times, at least in American culture, we expect things to be easy and we want them without conflict. Pain hurts and we just don't to deal with it. I think it's because of the expectation for life to be pain-free, that we face the most disappointing and discouraging times of our lives. Instead of trying to discover what purpose the pain serves, we try to avoid it at all costs.
Well... no hardship makes for a very boring story, and I'm not satisfied with living a boring story. I'm also not interested in engaging in someone else's boring story. (Does that sound harsh? Well, I really feel passionately about this!) I listened to Donald Miller talk about this idea of life being a story. He said that conflict is a vital part in any interesting or worthwhile story. Who ever read a good book that didn't have an on-going conflict, an obstacle to be overcome in order to get their desired end?
Maybe that's what's wrong with our culture and this idea that "life is meaningless." Well, I'm sorry to say it, but if you think all life is meaningless, maybe you're just living out a boring story and it's your life that is currently meaningless. I think God offers much more for our lives. He is the greatest storyteller. I am fascinated by God's words to Ananias, His servant, as He tells him to go and seek out Saul, who has just been blinded by the Lord on his way to Damascus (Acts 9.)
v. 15 - 16 "But the Lord said to Ananias, 'Go! This man [Saul] is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings and before the people of Israel. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name.'"
God planned the suffering of Saul (shortly thereafter called Paul) into the story of this man's life. And by the sound of it, He planned great suffering. And who is the most talked about apostle now? Who's writings and teachings are we constantly looking to? Paul, our favorite New Testament hero behind Jesus, had one of the most conflict and pain-stricken lives of anyone I've ever heard of. And His story was told and continues to be told.
So, I encourage you, and most certainly myself, to embrace the suffering of this life. Embrace the story God wants to tell through your life, however painful it may be. Think of the Apostle Paul, Job, Moses, the twelve disciples, Stephen who was stoned, and love the God who has His hand over all of it. And don't forget to sing in your anguish, because that song is the most beautiful story you will ever tell.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Chew on this...
"But one of the worst results of being a slave and being forced to do things is that when there is no one to force you anymore, you find you have almost lost the power of forcing yourself."
C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy
C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
just a funny little unimportant
I just gave my 60 lb. standard poodle a haircut... now it looks like 500 bunnies spontaneously combusted in my yard.
And my life very much feels the same way. Everything spontaneously combusting. It's kind of fun, because I don't always hanker order or consistency, but it's also a little unnerving.
And my life very much feels the same way. Everything spontaneously combusting. It's kind of fun, because I don't always hanker order or consistency, but it's also a little unnerving.
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