Tyler

I had a friend named Tyler; I loved him almost like a brother.

He’s a prairie boy from the Midwest, with a sort of Dylan-esque abandon to his loosely curled hair. Fashion trends from further east had no discernable affect on him, with his second-hand clothing and on-sale purchases, but he always looked cool, and his scrawny body somehow jerked about with enough grace to pass off as confident manoeuvring.

His teeth stand out most, after his hair, with winsome smiles for everyone he meets. They don’t stand out because they’re particularly straight or clean or crooked. It’s the wide frame of lips when he grins that shows off his teeth and gum line. And his double wide smile lines and smallish chin. Tyler’s appearance was never intimidating, but what he lacks in masculine physicality, he more than makes up for in charisma and a boyish pursuit of a good time. With such innocence he always sought to entertain and would almost foolishly end up participating in something crazy and borderline socially awkward, but he always got laughs, and never at anyone’s expense. He welcomed people in. I don’t think anyone ever doubted that Tyler could be trusted with baring one’s soul. He seemed to treasure any chance to tend to a person’s soul, whether or not he had any clue how to help. He seemed to always go about life half-naked. Most people didn’t notice, of course; everybody loves Tyler. It’s hard not to. You could say with fairness that Tyler is kind of the artistic type; he’s not the mellow, withdrawn kind, but the really fun-loving, do-some-goofy-summersault-and-hurt-your-face type. That’s probably why people didn’t notice. He always listens to cool music, music that he’s completely passionate about. If you aren’t a fan of whatever music he’s into, you’ll want to be, because obviously, from the way he talks about it, there’s something about it that can change your life. His room was adorned with his own artwork, which I assume he was proud of, but that also mocked his sense of purpose every time he walked in.

We lived in a very small college community, and because there were only a few hundred people around, the chance was there that possibly, one could be a friend to everyone, that there could be at least an amiable conversation or memorable experience with most of the other students.

To be liked. There are some people who will not know where to stop. This has been my struggle, and it was apparently one of Tyler’s as well.

I envied him. He so openly and humbly talked about people he respected and wanted to emulate, in a way my pride would never have allowed me. The level of artistic intelligence he had I sensed I should have had also, but didn’t, and so when he talked about movies and music, I listened to this kid, and I was entertained the whole time. We had a lot of fun, and we shared the depths of our souls with one another, and often, I felt sad for him.

Some of my great friends and I spent most of our spare time at school kicking a footbag (“hacky-sack”) around. Joining a footbag circle is one of those easy ways to spend time with people with no pressure to be or say anything spectacular. You don’t need to be any good, and we usually appreciated a visitor. People joined in for a while and then went about their day. Some came almost daily, but outside of the guys in our wing, Tyler was our most regular companion. Here were people in a circle, having fun, and I don’t think Tyler could help himself from joining in.

Not that this was a chance for him to show off. It was hard to believe that Tyler could spend so much time at this one activity and be so consistently bad. He did improve, though, and we showed him a lot of little tricks, but the foot-eye finesse thing never really worked for him. It didn’t matter; we loved having Tyler as part of our little circle (which was somehow cool, however laughable it also may have been). He handled his gaffs and wild flailing kicks with humour, and when he made some surprisingly sweet move, he never fixated on it.

Sometimes I would find him kicking a footbag on his own in the dorm lounge, with a little stereo spinning a great album. These were times I could join him, and we could talk about life and love and all those things young wandering guys talk about. Those times we shared, with a little sand-filled piece of cloth and good music, helped to bind us together. He was almost always struggling with girls and boundaries and deadlines and spiritual longing in the same kind of ways I had. Tyler was a younger version of the half of me that I had no control of. Well, I had some control. I am less prone now to extremes and excesses, but in this time after high school, a whole side of me that I was not very familiar with exploded into the open and revelled in its freedom. It was just as I was finding the reigns that I got to know Tyler.

My memory of him plays like a sparse slideshow. We loved each other so much, and probably both grew in confidence through our friendship, but physical distance has truly kept us apart since I moved out west. I have tried to keep in touch, but to no avail.

People would marvel at Tyler’s confidence, but I felt sorrow. I also realised how easily people are fooled. I was sorry because this veneer, beautiful as it may have seemed, kept people from seeing Tyler’s wonderful, delicate spirit. Without really trying to fool anyone at all, he drew multitudes into his yard, while few ventured into his living room. Even as I write this, though, my own living room is empty.

Tyler had an incredible ability to see the good in others and bring that out, and he would not do that for himself. He was so much fun and such a great listener and an overall interesting character. He was passionate about caring for others, a generous spirit. But behind our greatness skulks a shadow, a dark trait which is inextricably tied to that which shines. I never got to know what was behind his shadow, and maybe this is why I miss him the way I do. Maybe this is why my scant memories of him haunt me. He had no control of his boundaries, or little sense of his limits, and much like me he flung himself out, made himself vulnerable to too many, and even as this seemed to quench his thirst, it was also tearing him apart.

Someone or something had robbed his confidence, severed his scrotum. He didn’t feel like he deserved anything wonderful. I never knew why, but in his soul Tyler must have known. There must have been scar tissue he was afraid to tend to, or a deep disappointment with the way life was playing out. Whatever it was or is, it has taken too much from him; there is so much beauty and passion at stake.

 

If only I was 15 now

I went to college and realised that reading is a wonderful thing, something that I can fall in love with. But I mostly just got to read assigned texts and mandatory research books and media. Then I sort of forgot, but now I have this consuming need to discover and learn from the great minds that have graced this earth. I just don’t know how to catch up. I want to know, I want to experience what I can from great literature and keen socio-political characters.

This weekend I decided I needed to know about Noam Chomsky, so I took a couple of books out from the library and checked out some things on the web. The more I learn about things, I am trying not to become too radical for my own good, but just enough for the good of humanity, and I know that Chomsky may not be a good place to be if that’s my goal, but I really need to find voices who can give guidance to the convictions inside of me, and libertarian socialism seems like a great but nutty kind of professor.

I need, too, to immerse myself in literary classics. I didn’t want to read fiction when I was younger because it didn’t seem productive enough, but I am currently kicking myself. I have some ideas of books to read, but if you have a book, a classic of some sort, which you believe is truly significant, please let me know what it is and why I should read it. Then I probably will.

Thanks.

 

COMMUNity

I have a hard time living in Suburbia. I just see it as proof positive that the American Dream is a lie, although most people here, buying houses and cars they can’t afford, of course don’t believe that they have bought in. Also, the fact that my neighbours won’t make eye contact with me, or that the people across the street are petty and vindictive when it comes to keeping cars away from their property, drives me mad, yet they are justified by words like “property” and “privacy.”

There is a better way.

I think it’s crazy that every person on my street should have their own lawn mower, their own second, third, or fourth car, their own pressure washer, even their own yard. There’s a good chance I just lost you on that last one, but imagine the freedom and space we could have if kids from a few families shared a play area, with all of their parents being able to watch from their homes, or from a garden that anyone and everyone can tend to and sit in. We can all learn to live with our families (it’s true), and we can all learn to live with our neighbours.

Also, I wonder what kind of sense it makes that a producer of a terrible television show with little imagination and no benefit to anyone (pick one, there are many), should make multiple times more money than my boss. My boss has worked hard in his trade for decades and builds high quality homes for families to spend their lives in, but he’s still paying his mortgage. Who ever figured it makes sense that a mediocre stock broker should be a wealthy person (depending, of course, on the year)? Why, in God’s good name, is Jessica Simpson rich and famous? Does she have more talent or drive than a journalist for the National Geographic? Does she improve our culture more than, say, Margaret Atwood? Many of us have known great school custodians; they take care of the grounds, and help brighten the lives of many children, making our communities better places. When you really look at the world, is it just that these good people actually struggle to bring opportunties to their kids because they don’t have enough money?

My family lives about four thousand kilometres from me (4,235 to be exact). I miss them terribly. We always talk about the next time we’ll get together, but often, I talk to my brother about having him move here (I’m working on the others, too). He has a baby my wife and I have never met. We don’t just want to be in the same town, though. We figure it would be great to build a home together (or maybe two right near one another). We could split it down the middle and share a large living room and laundry, or we could split floors. Maybe we’d have a dining room we could share for nice, planned meals once in a while. I don’t know what we may or may not ever do, but that’s what we talk about. Raising our kids together would be so much fun, and so good for their development. If my wife and I could live with my brother and his wife, we could get so much richness out of life that you just don’t get by being more separated. Of course, it would be hard.

I have a cherished friend, Richard, my old college roommate, who thinks that it might be a good idea if he and I did the same. We’ve only casually mentioned it, but there was a seriousness in his voice. And you know, it would be a good idea.

I have believed for a while now that communal living can profit people wonderfully, but what has got me thinking more vigourously along these lines was a recent conversation with another friend, who is living in Asia. I dont’ know but I’m almost certain that he was serious when we spoke. He was asking me what I thought about communal living. He says he’s doing research, and he thinks that either Ontario or British Colombia would be a good place to settle down with some like-minded people. He thinks I might like to be part of it. …I think.

Naturally, we all think of Amish people or Waco when we hear the word commune. I do. I remember working at a camp in Manitoba years ago when we had “Hutterite Days.” They had amazing cookies and really nice video cameras. One of the girls invited me to a family dinner, I think in hopes to bring in some fresh blood to the colony. I remember, though, being very put off by the sense of grandeur that especially the boys carried. Their world was too small, and there was noone to inform them that there are bigger fish out there than their best corn shucker. Not only that, they were not aware of the injustice around their community. With their incredible resources, it seems that Hutterite people could make a positive difference in the world around them.

They are happy people, though. Each person is loved, and seems to have a great capacity to love. Oprah once asked some Amish people how satisfied they were with life. Completely, they said. One hundred percent. I’m don’t suppose the average Hutterite is very different. We don’t understand that way of life, but there is something to be said for having no worries about job security, for being known and loved by a whole community. There are no trends one feels obligated to follow, throwing hundreds and thousands of dollars away on new shoes, new funiture, a new car, a revamped kitchen. Family time is honoured and friends are friends for life.

Those who form or lead small, communal-type places usually begin with great and noble intentions of creating a warm, healthy, vibrant place. But what we usually find is that over time these idealistic pioneers become small-minded, controlling, and usually it’s the very religion they sought to protect that they twist to ensure cooperation. They forget what the point of it all is. It’s the same sort of idea with communism. Great idea, but it gets forgotten pretty quickly. 

There are communes around the world that work, though. Yet somehow we have come to believe that our way of doing things is the best way. I’m not so convinced. Crime rates, although down a bit in the last five years or so, are wildly high. Our high value placed on individuality means we can’t “intrude” when people are in familial, emotional or other kinds of trouble. And there are lots of those. It’s “none of our business,” apparently. Rich people are getting richer. Our poor are increasing in numbers while their wages decrease. It’s hard to move to a new city and make friends. Somehow we have more information and ways to contact each other, and we know less about the world than ever before (try asking a teenager what a warbler looks like). Our North American culture gets more comfortable, and as a result, the lives of millions of others are made more miserable.

I still love life. I get a thrill out of learning about people and places, and hearing new music. I’m impressed by the recent upswing in humanitarian interest and the easing of racial hatred in the West (in some ways, anyway). It’s so cool that people are rejecting old forms of obligatory religion and seeking to find a truer way. It just seems to me that we keep trading one generation’s evils for new ones. We don’t have the cold rigidity of our parents’ or grandparents’ days, but we have swung around and embraced a warm sort of chaos. We don’t learn from the last generation, we just throw it all away and start anew, ignorant as ever.

Somehow, it must be possible to move forward. I believe that God has intended for his children to be part of improving this world, and I also believe that if you aren’t helping you’re hindering. You’re either part of the cure or part of the disease. I wonder if maybe people can start a communal way of life that actually works, that benefits the broader world. What if some friends and I really did get together, started growing our own organic food, and took time to enjoy Life around us? What if we encouraged artistry and imagination and hard work? We could have writers and philosophers and carpenters. We’d all help with the farming, perhaps; being a part of the soil really connects humans to the earth, and to our own souls. We could actively engage in the communities around us. We could share goods and ideas. We could foster children who know that there is a safe place where they are loved and pushed to be better human beings, and who also are part of the larger community around us. We could pray as one people. We could use our resources to ease suffering, while none of us becomes rich. We could shelter the helpless and offer them dignity. We could love, because we know what love looks like. We would respect the earth. We would allow people to be who they were meant to be. We would be family. We could make it clear that our leaders are chosen first to serve, for the greater good. Older people could learn from the young, and the young from the old, and wrinkles would be a thing to envy. We could be a place where real, authentic, capital L Life happens.

It all sounds really good in my head right now. I don’t know if it can happen. I don’t know if this is what I want. …I don’t know if my wife thinks I’m crazy. All I know is that I want to bring this world a little closer to the way it was intended, and I would like to find a good way of life that carries me in that direction.

What do you think?

 

Life

We are all brought up with certain assumptions, a unique set of beliefs. I have had most of my core convictions — my entire worldview — challenged in this short life of mine. I’ve had to re-evaluate what is valuable and right, and how small I allow truth to be. My outlook had been churned about, and I wonder when I’ll ever get off the tire swing. But the supernatural has goaded me in (even when I questioned its existance), and with all of my staggering about, I have found a need to discover some one thing that can keep me moving forward.

Posters and album covers are littered with swirly tree branches with cute leaves. The green movement in on with full force, with bandwagoners like me toting recycling symbols and reusable bags everywhere.  Maybe the theme for 2008 was green, and I want 2009 to be Life. Life might sound like a sort of Buddhist/modernist nice sort of trend word for the year, but lately, this is what I have allowed to guide me through my day-to-day. 

So I’ve given it a go for a while before I said much to anyone. I am sort of a prince of “phases.” Starting in 1993, every new T-shirt I bought, every hat I bought, was Blue Jays memorabilia. I counted my baseball cards regularly, and re-organised them. I stopped in 1996. I’ve had a lot of “things” which have phased out or ended abruptly. I guess we all do. I have made declarations of faith or moral standing that today make me rouge a little. I love new ideas and I seem to embrace and advocate things I don’t really even understand. So I try to let things settle a little more now. I let it percolate, and hope that the product I share is beneficial.

I have been eager to jump on these recent bandwagons. I’d like to think that I was on them already “before everyone else,” but that’s hardly true. My suite is all earth-toney and I’ve been eating more organic and making a bigger deal of consuming less. I’m just a little more hardcore than most people I know. I made a messenger bag for myself out of leather, which made some people, not knowing where else I fit, to put me into a little conceptual box made for hippies. I am not a hippie. But I do like what they had to teach us.

With a slight sense of irony and pride, I like to wear my CCCP vest. I read Marx’s Manifesto with gusto. The evils of capitalism are too clearly seen for me to be able to follow along with the American Dream, and if we could somehow live like the early Christians from the book of Acts, I’d be thrilled. I am not a Commie, though.

I have lived around a lot of Mennonites, who are supposed to be stalwart clingers to nonviolence. “Conscientious objectors,” is what they liked to call themselves. They see no reason to lash out in violence to anything or anyone. Bush’s war regime was as ungodly as any other American government before, and I don’t think that I would ever volunteer to fight in a war. I hope that when I pass on, I can somehow give Lennon a pat on the back, who just asked us to “give peace a chance.” Even so, I don’t think you could really call me a peacenik.

And on it goes. There have been so many movements standing for so many great things, which get tossed aside by the population at large, because it gets out of hand. Flower Power is a great example. These young, idealistic people knew that there was something terribly wrong with American culture, and they had an idea of where to go, but they had no tradition to follow, no intact principle guiding them, and it all fell apart. All that’s left is colourful peace symbols and old hippies driving around in RV’s, who probably aren’t much able to make love anymore. Communism, a great and noble idea, has also failed. Most Mennonites have little connection with their true heritage. Our national Human Rights tribunal, and a woman who didn’t want to wash her hands (or work anywhere but McDonald’s) showed us, once again, that Human Rights people have gone off the deep end. Artists don’t realise what self expression is for, and get all huffy when their art is deemed inappropriate for regular humans. George Bush was after some sort of great ideal, and thousands (millions?) of people have paid dearly for it.

Christian theology swings from extreme to irrelevent tangent to heresy and back, all in the name of “truth” or something. Separation, mistrust, and name-calling result. I listened to J.I. Packer talk about “liberals,” in his thick British accent , with such disdain that I thought he was going to call down fire from heaven if anyone in the room questioned the way he interprets Scripture (role your r like they taught us in the old “Roll up the Rim to Win” commercials, and say it like a slave owner says “niggers.” … “Liberals.”) Somehow I worked up the nerve.

Obviously, I’m not any smarter than Packer. I assume I’m not as well-read or well-informed as Bush was in 2001. I’m not able to figure out many things on my own, left to myself. Great people, educated men, godly women, charismatic leaders, humble servants – people greater than I ever will be — disagree on such fundamental life principles. “Even” Billy Graham has done some serious rethinking of what he has preached so fervently in his younger years; I cannot claim have a better ear to the voice or guidance of God than he. Even so, I believe that I was made to be a person who has some sort of theological/spiritual influence on others. I want so badly to lead my life well, and to bring up a family in the best way possible. How do I decide what to believe? How can I know what to follow? How do I teach anyone anything at all?

I’ve been reluctant to bring things directly from the Bible on this blog, for a collection of reasons (one being that, for a theology student, I have shamefully little knowledge of the Bible), but now I will attempt to put something coherent together, as concisely as I can.

Painting with broad strokes, I see God, revealed in his Scriptures, as a life-giver. I wonder even if describing him as “Love” falls short of the greater, deeper nature of our creator, the great life-giver.

In the beginning, he took the chaos and made it inhabitable. He ordered it into a place, a place upon which life can happen. When he made and breathed life into creative humans, he said that it was very good. He told them to be fruitful, and to multiply (Side note: I wonder if he would tell that to us, today?).

The story of the Fall is a narrative explaining how death entered into the world. The rest of the Pentateuch (first five books of Hebrew Scripture) is about YHWH (God) making deals (i.e. covenants) with certain people to get them to live in a way that promotes life. He set down guidelines (which we don’t fully understand, but whatever) to help them have healthy family relations, vibrant communities, and rich lives. At the end of Deuteronomy, he makes it very clear that what he is presenting is not arbitrary laws, made for kicks, but a choice for life. The very explicit choice was between life and death, blessing or cursing. Since God tends to love his children, no wonder he got pissed off when they went off track and disobeyed. He didn’t want them to be choosing the path of death. I know my mom isn’t too happy when I tell her about my near-death experiences. YHWH set down new covenants over and over, becuase the people continually rejected the path they had been given to walk.

So fast-forward: YHWH sends prophets to warn the people of doom and death and invasion and sickness sent from God unless they return to the same God of life. These people sometimes repent, sometimes saw the prophet in half, or something like that. Sometimes they are packed off to another country, sometimes they prosper in the land God gave them. Repeat about a million times.

Remember that people are under a curse, ever since the Fall. They are under the curse of Death, and death is always the enemy. Sin and death are always found together, you’ll find. You know, “The wages of…”

Then Christ breaks into history. Death came through a man, so he came as a man to break that curse. He showed us a few things about life, then he was killed by some jealous people (sinful people). After three days, he rose again. He rose victorious over death, and the grave now has no power over him. Oh, and he took on sin, too.

There were a handful of people who witnessed this, just as a few people were around to witness the first covenants made by God. They now had a message, a mission, a kingdom to spread. This is the kingdom of righteousness, of God, of life. They formed a vibrant community that advocated right, rich living and healthy family relations. They told everyone that even if people don’t know it, God is actually their king, and the way to have life is to accept that fact.

They left a robust tradition, a wonderful legacy. There were blunders and terrible mistakes. There were individuals and civilisations turned around and improved. Christianity helped bring about order and peace and prosperity to much of the world. We also know that Christians fought unjust wars and killed people needlessly, out of vain ambition rather than love and justice and mercy, and history has not forgotten. Christianity, too, has fought for women to have a voice, for lepers to be cared for, for slavery to be abolished. When Christians are doing what Christians should do, they are promoting life.

Acting against the proper care of Earth (as misdirected as the green movement is) is not promoting life. (If I hear another Christian talk down people with a concern for the earth, calling them “earth worshippers,” I’ll … I’ll … well, I’ll not be happy; you better believe it.) Allowing denominational differences to keep us apart is not promoting life. Raging against the “immoral sinners” usually doesn’t promote life. Pride, anger, jealousy, adultery, and the like, do not promote life. These are death patterns.

What does God require of us? To love mercy, to act justly, and walk humbly with our God. I think I read that in my Bible somewhere. Take care of widows and orphans and the like. Spend time with our families. All these things that just sort of make sense; this is what God wants for us. What is moral or immoral is not based on some arbitrary grid that we’re supposed to fit into, but on the way the world works, because God made it like that. That is why people who pay attention to the natural, healthy rythms of life and of the earth often live in ways which are quite congruent with the Bible I follow. God made the earth and told us to take care of it. The earth, in a sense, is a mother to us, since it raises us up and nurtures us. It makes sense to protect it. He gave us community models, so that we can have a good place to raise families, so that, ulitmately, we as individuals can thrive and create, as God himself does. This is the best way for us to have unhindered communion with him, and that is what he wants for us, and for himself. The great God of love has shown us how to live in love so that we can all have life, and have it more abundantly.

Oh yeah, when Christ rose again, he made a way for all of us to live forever, in the way I just described. I don’t know what “heaven” will be like, but for some reason Christ prayed that God’s will would be done on earth the way it is there. I make it my goal to go along with that idea, here on earth, for the rest of my life. I want to ask myself, with every decision I make, with eveything I support, with everything I do: “Does it promote life?“

 

Tolerance

Deep in our psyche as a western culture is tolerance. Even many of the most seemingly intolerant people, when it comes to issues that they aren’t so daily aware of, or that don’t seem to threaten the foundation of their belief, hold to tolerance like a fashionista to her Birkin bag. There is a deep need to have it.

Let me explore this a little.

I come to this as a Christian. If you know me at all, or if you have read this blog at all, you’ll expect this. This is who I am, and this is the point from which I try to understand the world, as I critique and honour my own tradition. I hope that as I criticise Christian culture as it is, I can inspire those who hold to truth and justice over comfort or understanding to imagine the possibility of a better world, where the life of Christ is lived out by those who are called His followers.

I think I can say that tolerance, as we often see it, is driven at least partially by fear. We have seen the evils done in the name of God or whatever else. We have known the awful consequences of those who are not “tolerant” of people from other cultures or races or political views. We are afraid of oppression because we like freedom. We despise violence because we are human. We fear what hatred can do, and we also despise radicalism, even if it stands against the things we disapprove of. It scares us.

It’s also unfashionable. We reject radicals wholesale because of the fact that they are radical. Ultra-charismatic Holy Spirit people are laughed at and we don’t notice that they are seeking to experience God, probably more fervently than we are. Environmentalists have been seen as an inconvenience and an enemy for years. Only recently have they been taken a little more seriously, as world food shortage and air quality have become more foreseeable problems. John Lennon wasn’t trusted, but all he was saying is, “Give peace a chance.”

If I remember right, Christ’s disciple Peter, or St. Peter, the great apostle and leader of the early church, was a bit radical and erratic. He foolishly lopped someone’s ear off to “protect” his Lord, he spoke his mind and often tasted foot, and he was the leader of the greatest movement of all time. John Lennon is appreciated by most now. Also, as I have just implied, environmentalists are seen more as specialists than as crazy people (although their complete redemption has yet to come). Time has allowed us to see the greatness of what these people were up to. They can now fit comfortably into our worlds.

Tolerance and intolerance alike are fickle. They last only as long as the appropriate fear holds onto us. There is fear of interfering or of being seen as extreme that holds us to tolerance, because, really, all tolerance is saying is, “I don’t like you (or what you’re doing) but as long as you aren’t in my face, I’ll leave you be.” Like a mosquito buzzing in the distance. It is no better than barely-contained contempt. The Polish tolerated the Jews, but when the Jews were sent to the ghettos, they were ecstatic to see them go.

Tolerance can also come from the same place that allows us to watch injustice and starvation on TV and do nothing. But it does serve, for a while, to keep the peace (if that’s what you want to call it). It is a temporary fix; a Canadian ideal no more wonderful than the American allowance of some vague pursuit of happiness. Tolerance may be a Canadian ideal, but it is too shallow to serve as a guide for any culture.

Intolerance is a name applied to many things, which would be alright if the negative baggage wouldn’t follow it around. We don’t tolerate murder. Good. We don’t tolerate fascism. Great. Call someone intolerant, though, and it’s like calling him or her a fascist.

Intolerance, as it is normally understood in the media and when addressing social issues, is not very different from tolerance. It is a reaction to the fear of something we hold dear being threatened. We all have pictures in our heads of people we believe to be intolerant; usually, these people are protecting something. Often, they believe (they convince each other) that they are protecting something good. It gets justified. Protect your heritage and culture: get rid of the Jews or the Negroes. Protect the moral fabric of society: suppress the homosexuals or the “liberals.” Protect your god: kill the infidels.

So, now I bring us here, in Abbotsford, to the mess we are in now. A good number of people across Canada don’t truly accept or like homosexual people. I have seen too many people cringe at the thought of gay people to believe that my country actually accepts them. I think that opinion polls on the subject can be misleading, because people want to be seen as tolerant, so they don’t say anything bad. It’s kind of like when eleven year-old kids smoke in a group, maybe for the first time, and they all “like” the flavour. They probably have a favourite brand. …Soon they really do.

“Christian Abbotsford,” though, doesn’t have the same ideal at the centre. Many evangelicals see the lack of substance that tolerance offers, but don’t see a great alternative (for some reason, love doesn’t seem to be a viable option). Some of them react with intolerance and anger, hiding behind a thin façade of spiritual piety. The actual issue which makes homosexuality such a hot topic is not that Christians have moral objections to a person’s sexual choices – every religion has moral ideals which most people don’t achieve perfectly, and homosexuality isn’t the only one for Christianity. The issue is that as our culture seems to be ready to accept homosexual lifestyles and behaviour as normal (being the latest chapter in the obvious reality that we are not a Christian society), Christians are becoming aware of their loss of power and control. There is also legitimate fear: we all want our children to grow up in a society with stable moral bearings, and if you believe that homosexual behaviour is wrong, you will react in some way.

But who decided Christians should not allow gay people to have a parade? Christians are allowed to say “Jesus Christ is Lord” as loud and proud as anyone would want to, and often thank God for that right. It isn’t just our right. However, that is hardly the point that we should even focus on.

The point is that the first characteristic of the God we hold ourselves to is love. Jesus forgave the woman caught in adultery, and told her that he didn’t condemn her. Love is patient, love is kind, and love denies “faggots” the same rights we enjoy? We say “Love the sinner but hate the sin,” but really, we are just hateful. We can’t order the world out of fear and control; we should influence the world with love. It is counter-productive to tell homosexuals that they are living in sin and going to hell, because usually they are quite aware of what Christians think about them. That’s part of the reason why there is a pride parade going on. They have been misunderstood and bullied and they want to express themselves. Some of the indecency we have seen in other parades is just people going overboard, and it’s not like anti-homosexual people don’t go overboard (it’s sad that we all know what queer-bashing is). Also, if we are really serious about “protecting the sanctity of marriage,” then let’s work on being examples of good marriages that actually last a lifetime. We are trying to protect something that is already broken from many things other than homosexual behaviour; maybe we need to do more about those things in our own circles before we go wagging our fingers at people who, according to us, don’t know what marriage is. Can they be blamed if they have no working model to go off of?

I just wish that when people looked at Christianity, they could see it for what it actually is, for what Jesus set out for us. People blame religion for all of the world’s evils, but evil people will use whatever they can to justify what they do, and so they have used religion. God is indeed a God of justice, but that has been taken quite out of context. When the day of Judgement comes, it will be a day when God sets things right – He will crush oppression and take away greed and offer true lasting love as the alternative. He will lift up the AIDS orphan and the victims of racism. He isn’t out simply to act out His rage on the people who didn’t do what He said and so hurt His pride as the ruler of the universe. And Christians also should not be out to do it. Let’s offer hope and love and defend the oppressed. Let’s show people what a loving community of believing people can look like, as we invite people in. Let’s quit the right-wing dogmatist thing and embrace people for being made in the image of God. Let’s move far beyond tolerance and give the world something to believe in.

 

Christian=Conservative?

I’m listening to the radio, waiting for the election results. It looks like another Conseravative government. I asked a Christian man today what the main factor is that decides his vote; he’s a stalwart supporter of the Coservatives, as are most Christians around here. It seems that the Tories are the Christian party, just like the Republicans in the U.S. The man answered that it’s because of the values of the party, since, as he says, their values are mostly Christian values.

I wish people would stop saying that. It’s not that the Conservatives have necessarily poor values, or that I think that a Conservative vote is a bad choice. There is a lot of good that they have to offer our country. For most Christians, though, our votes go to the Tories by default, because voting otherwise is unchristian. And what are the issues for the majority of these people? Homosexuality and abortion. For real. Last time I checked, true religion was about looking after the widow and orphan – the oppressed and disadvantaged. As for the issues, the Conservatives’ official stand on abortion is that they won’t bring it up. Bringing it up splits votes, and it’s not worth bringing up. Very Christian. And giving gay people rights? If Christians are really concerned about preserving “the sanctity of marriage,” we should lead by example, not by legislation. We forget that this is not a Christian nation, and dictating morals to non-Christian people doesn’t seem right to me.

A Conservative government is a great choice for people who are middle class, and can more or less take care of themselves. Shouldn’t those who can easily take care of themselves look to how they can take care of people who can’t?  I know that churches do some of that, but shouldn’t we be happy to pay taxes for social programs and environmentally friendly incentives? And yes, taking care of the earth is a Christian duty, not an option we consider when the economy is looking good.

I know that the issues are much more complex, and the party platforms actually don’t look very different from one another for this 2008 election. I’m just focusing on a certain trend that bothers me quite a lot. Christians are supposed to stand for love and peace and justice, not just against some nearly non-issues. Am I right?

 

Oppression, of sorts

What I wish I could have said is something like, “What about them niggers?” but I didn’t. I wanted to say other things, too. We were gathered for lunch; a small bunch of construction workers from various trades. There was the usual talk. It’s always the same. Talk about building technicalities and codes, talk about other tradesmen who do stupid things, which of course leads to East Indians and the shoddy work they’re known for around here, which was then accompanied by terrible impressions. Beer was discussed, as per usual. And what left me aghast was when they were talking about their wives having their children, and not wanting to leave work for very long, or at all, to be with their wives during the birth of their children. They had past stories about being too busy to leave from work right away to witness the first moment of a child. (Obviously, they didn’t use words like that.) They laughed like it was cool, and yes, by cool I mean cool like I’m in grade 8, and I’m talking about what a drag my family is, so people will think I’m OK, I’m just like them.

I would have liked to say something witty and poignant. I wanted to make them all realise their boorishness, their racist and chauvinistic natures. I wanted, in essence, to win.

I feel subjected to bloated egos every day. I work around people who are always talking as if they’re “bad” so that they seem cool, and the humour is tired and rarely positive. There is little room for real discussion of life, love, beauty, nature (unless an animal gets shot), religion, culture, or the value of family. I don’t expect a whole ton of “real” talk, but it would be nice to know that I am working with human beings. I don’t talk much at work when there are more people around than just me and my boss. People aren’t interested in jokes which require thought, or musings about the small wonders of life, and they certainly don’t want to have any type of discussion.

I understand that this is just the way things are. I know that most people are like this at work, especially construction workers or labour workers in general. I know that I am barking up a tree. Sort of. But I believe that anyone can actually make a difference wherever that person may be. I believe that people can be shown a better way, and that many of those can begin to change. I just don’t know how.

I have noticed that I have begun to give in. I crack the odd East Indian joke, when only two years ago I had no reason at all to think that their culture was anything but beautiful. I don’t take many opportunities to let people know how amazing my wife is. My demeanor has dulled, and quite frankly, I don’t like my job. It takes a lot to get myself up in the morning. It feels like I’ve been beaten down, and when I hear such blatantly selfish, arrogant, ignorant, small-minded talk, I want to fight back.

Probably the best way to fight back is to be light-hearted and witty and compassionate, to find myself unruffled by others’ comments. The best way is almost to not fight at all. But I find it so hard to be simply that way. When there is little allowance for it, I find myself feeling almost physically stifled. It’s harder to breathe, or to look someone in the eye with confidence. My weakness is revealed, exposed and nearly naked.

 

I can’t walk onto a construction site and expect people to listen to some homily I’ve prepared; they won’t listen to me go on like I do here. They aren’t interested in reading anything that would challenge the way they are, for the most part. I’m not sure if I can shove their ignorance in their faces by making some cheeky remark about niggers or something like that. …I need to be the change I want to see (Who said that?). It’s hard to see how I could make change, seeing as I’m hardly noticed as it is. People generally like me, I guess, and sometimes they think that what I say is funny or amusing in some way, but if I were to leave, I doubt many would care much. Outside of work, though, it’s generally a different story; people I meet in other avanues of life tend to regard me much more highly, maybe since there’s less heirarchy to attend to. I don’t plan on being in my job for a very long time, but I don’t want to be beat by it. I can’t stand the thought that most of these people I refer to call themselves Christians, and I wish I could help them to change. I feel sorrow for the families that are attached to these men who act like work is more important than family, whether that’s true for them or not. Sometimes I even feel sorry for the men themselves, being so lost in trying to be noticed and liked that they give up their own dignity. It seems like they are so caught up in grasping for attention and approval that they wouldn’t notice some quiet guy who doesn’t give a rip about this pursuit. It doesn’t seem like they have yet, anyway.

But I know that I have hope, and I feel like I know myself (to some extent). I’m usually at peace with who I am. My future is bright. Life is interesting. There is so much beauty to discover; it’s in the leaves who are now changing to yellows and oranges and browns and on the ground. There is majesty in the music I listen to with my wife to and from work. There is good I am bringing in to replace the evil inside of me, and a God who makes it possible. There is wonder in the friends I am getting to know, and I am trying to embrace all of these things with my whole being, with all of my heart and soul and mind and strength. I hope I can pass some of this along to the men with whom I rub shoulders every day.

 

How Much Can We Understand?

Recently on Sunday morning at church, a young person shared her testimony with the congregation. It was powerful. I was amazed, once again, at God’s care and redemptive spirit. Near the beginning, though, she said that at a young age (about four, I think), she had accepted Christ, but since she didn’t really understand it, and since her environment was not condusive to a Christian lifestyle, she didn’t follow it.

The implication is clear, and is heard in evangelical churches all over: we weren’t really Christians when we were kids because we didn’t understand it; we were unable to be held to Christ because we didn’t know what was going on. We get baptised when we have a certain understanding of the cost and the devotion required, and of what is happening, theologically.

I just can’t agree.

So, we figure that of course, if a child dies, they will go to heaven (and heaven is what it’s all about, of course. …Hold on, my tongue is stuck in my cheek). After a certain age, or degree of understanding, he or she becomes aware enough to be able to make the decision for or against Christianity, and at that point (which is decided by God, or St Peter, or someone up there), whatever decision that person consciously makes determines whether Heaven or Hell is his or her final destination.

I told a man on the bus some years ago the basic “gospel message,” and since he now knows it, he is accountable. If he had died the next day without deciding to be a Christian, he would go to hell. Actually, some say, if I hadn’t told him at all, he would still go to hell. Even though Christ came as the second Adam, to save all of humankind, he would still go to hell.

[ I'll just say quickly that, as evangelicals in general, our fixation on the afterlife is rather unhealthy, as far as our part in the redemption of earth is concerned. Our message of redemption calls us far beyond a choice between heaven or hell. We say we know that, but we really don't. ]

We have this vague unerstanding that God is in control, and that what I do today isn’t going to alter his plan for the whole earth. If he wants to bring someone to Himself, and he calls me to help in that process, if I disobey, he will still get done what he wants done.

People also have this sense of God that comes even without hearing about Jesus Christ the Son of the Triune God who died on the cross for our sins. “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.” (St. Paul) There is no excuse for not understanding, to some extent, what God is about.

Of course, nobody can fully understand God, right? I don’t. You don’t. The Pope doesn’t, and neither did St. Paul. But that’s OK. I am assured that God accepts me as I am, and that Him and I have some sort of relationship. That’s pretty cool. But with or without the Bible or someone explaining what Jesus did on earth, people are accountable to God. We all can have some understanding, while at the same time, none of us can actually understand God’s redemption plan, nevermind his Being.

I was baptised at the age of eight. I didn’t understand much. But I had this sense of God and his mercy that brought me to tears. I accepted that grace, and though I had a rebellious season (rebellion being a very relative term), and though I wasn’t always very aware of God, He had saved me, and He was holding on to me. Now, that grace is evident in my life.

I stand in the Christian tradition. Many would call me a Conservative Christian. Many Conservatives might call me liberal. But I still stand firmly on Christ and his work in the world, and the Bible, and the community of Christ-followers. Christ is the way to salvation, and the only way that the world can be redeemed (and it will be!).

But if none of us can ever understand this, at what point are we truly “Christian”? I find so much evidence of young children coming to Christ, “drifting off” or “backsliding” or whatever you want to call it, and coming “back” later in life. Really? Did they come back, or did Christ have them in his palm the whole time, allowing them to live and grow? Sure, they understand more, but is that what Salvation is based on - Understanding? As far as heaven goes, we figure God has some kind of merciful plan for handicapped people and people who have never heard the “gospel” (according to us) and children and others, … but people with a normal IQ, who live in the west … they have no excuse. So hell is for people with a certain intelligence level, who have or have not heard certain words (whether or not those words were backed up by grace and humility), whether or not they sought after Truth and Love their whole lives.

It’s absurd, don’t you think?

I didn’t get “resaved” as a teenager, when I “rededicated” my life to God. God’s saving power had kept me going so that I could get to that point. My parents dedicated me as a baby to God, and I think He took that seriously. We should, too. Why else would we all do it? God began to work in me from the beginning. My salvation was most assuredly not dependent on me understanding how God works. It depends on God caring to bring me to Himself.

Also:

God is love. God is truth. God is life, yadda yadda yadda. We say all these things a lot. I believe them strongly, but there is an implication to them that we try to escape, but I don’t think we can for much longer.

Billy Graham has begun to face it and has received a lot (lot lot lot) of resistance and hate from so-called Christians. He is not alone.

If Christ died for all of humanity, and if our accountability to God is not dependent, per se, on us reading the Bible or hearing about Jesus Christ, but on His revealing of Himself on earth, then we need to rethink some things, right? How many of us know “Christians” who have accepted Christ at a younger age, but who don’t live lives of seeking and following Truth, or joy or humility. They assume they have it alerady, or something. And there are people, who are not Christians, who pursue truth and charity and justice and hope and love and joy and who live life fully. Some of them have never heard of Christ. But Christ is God and God is Truth. Some of them have heard of Christ, and of the Church, and the Bible, but have not seen truth and charity and justice and hope and love and joy in Christians. They reject “Christ” on account of never seeing Christ in Christians. But they continue to follow these things that they know are real. They don’t understand the gospel message that we share, but they are a force of life and redemption on earth, more than most Christians I know.

I know people like this. If God is a God of charity and justice and hope and love and joy, and if He is merciful, and if he died for all, and if salvation is not dependent on intellectual understanding, then…

I will say again that I believe Christ is The Way to salvation. The only way. But is Christ bigger than we understand, perhaps? Is His plan bigger and more comprehensive than we can grasp, maybe? Do we all see truth through a dim glass? Do any of us have a complete grasp on all truth? Is it our place to judge the heart of a man?

God has had a plan from the beginning to redeem the world that was lost since our first ancestors. He started that plan through Abraham, and its culmination came in Christ, who is alive and well in His people around the world (i.e. Christians). He is working to make things right, and through those who have accepted Christ, His love can be seen and experienced. I am a Christian because I believe that in this community is where God is most clearly revealed (although not always, and certainly not in every “Christian”). I make it my life’s goal to seek for God (Truth, Love, Hope, etc.) wherever He may be found. He says that He rewards that attitude. From what I can see, His essence is most real in the people who follow Christ, and that is where I centre myself. I know where Truth is, but I will not say that Truth cannot be found anywhere else, because God says that He reveals Himself to all. Hope, though, is what Christ brings, and I believe that the Christian message is what the world needs most, and we should proclaim it with confidence and gentle love.

 

“I’m Not There”

Sometimes when I watch a movie, at the moment the credits roll, I feel like I’ve been baptised, born again – like there’s been some partial redemption in my soul or my spirit. Tonight I felt something deeply. It’s like I can love more, or at least experience love better. The world opened up a little wider and in my mind my muscles dwindled and my face became less identifiable. Inside I opened up wider and hung out in a way, like a child’s tongue expecting more. I held my wife and tasted her beauty.

 

finding a foundation

I live in the world of ideas. If you want to actually discuss something about the world, chances are I’m up for some friendly mental sparring. I like to listen to what people think about things and allow them to expand my horizons. It’s like the thrill of traveling to another place, and it carries just as much risk. To actually listen to someone carries with it the chance that your life as you know it could end – you can come across an idea that could change the way you see everything, and as that idea settles in your mind and the rest of your soul and spirit, everything you do and think becomes different. As lame as I may sound, seriously engaging in ideas is dangerous, but is also exciting and liberating.

When I left home and went to college in the Canadian prairies, I encountered more than I figured I would. I am a thinker, more or less. I have many friends now, though, who make me seem a little simple in comparison, but put beside the average person you meet, I’m strangely preoccupied with the intangible and abstract. Also, I am a man of faith, and I work everyday to be guided by both of these.

Christianity is what I was raised with. My parents turned to Jesus before I was born, and they have struggled with following His example, and I learned through their actions that their lives are better when they are faithful to that than when they are not. Starting from here, I have found a few important things in my life.

I found, early on, that Christians are not usually what the Bible describes a Christian should be. I found that there are some irreligious people who are kinder and who live more interesting lives than most Christians I know. However, I have found that usually, Christianity brings with it more justice and prosperity where it goes than was there before. I have found that people in general are not very open-minded. I have found that much of the moral guidelines of Christianity match that of other religions — Truth is shared by many. I have found that Jesus is more about unity than separation. I have found that many people hold to religious codes out of fear, and then anger. I have found that Truth is bigger than I could ever fully grasp. I have found that God is Truth, or Truth is God, or something like that. I have found that many people in the West reject Christianity more because of our un-Christ-likeness than because of our Christ-likeness. I have found that myth and story can be just as True as fact. I have found that the division in Christianity is not from God, and that Christians don’t normally see this as a big problem. I have found that salvation comes from the God I know.

I can say where I have found this salvation, but I can’t say that I know that it is God’s only form.( Jesus is the way, but I wonder if… if I get onto a bridge toward safety, do I have to know who built the bridge in order to make it across?) Of course, the implications of this are enormous, and I’m just beginning to grapple with them.

I have discovered that God, who has been guiding me and caring for me, has a vision for His world. As I understand Him, this god (God) is one of love. The redeeming work of Jesus Christ, in coming to the world as a human, being killed, and raising again to life for our sake, is supposed to be God’s ultimate revelation of Himself. Jesus’ prayer on his last night on earth was that his followers would be unified by love, and He told his first disciples that people would know that they are his followers by their love. Christ came for all people, and he broke social boundaries to make that clear. He also came as one of God’s chosen people - as a Jew – to show that what he was doing had continuity with what the God of Israel had been doing over the past several hundred years. He taught that the kingdom of God was nearby, or present. Since the beginning of God’s initial contact with humanity, however long ago it was, He has been working on the same plan of saving us from ourselves and bringing us closer to Himself, not wishing that any would perish.

Love.

I have seen God at work. He heals, He guides, He provides, He disciplines. Every time that I have found Christianity to be inadequate, it has been because of my own lack of wisdom, knowledge or experience, and I keep coming back to it from a new perspective. The form of faith that I have now is not one that I ever wanted; the tensions that I hold (dichotomies of truth, etc.) and the resistance that I can get from people who disagree are not easy to deal with, but I will continue to seek Truth when it does or doesn’t seem to fit into the box of my Christian communities, or into any ideologies of our world today. I have seen that God is real, but I have also seen that God is bigger than I can understand, and I take that second part seriously.

As much as I have said, though, about Christians, and as appealing as it may have been to leave this lot of useless people, Jesus coming as one of us and loving us and calling us His body has held me in. I have seen the great and amazing good of Christian communities across Canada, and around our world, and I have faith that this same Jesus, who came to reconcile all people to God, is present in us. So I take Christian unity seriously. Since Jesus came to reconcile all people to God, and since people never seemed to understand Him, I won’t place limits on how he will actually do that.

As I pursue a life guided by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control, God becomes clearer. I can think all I want, but it seems that it’s when I make it simpler and do the gospel, I am better connected with Life. Then I use my brain and try to put it all together, and it’s good. Good, but not enough. My brain is pretty small.

For thousands of years, God’s people have been pondering on His revelation, and have also been guided by His Spirit. God is alive in His people. There is so much depth there that I need to take into consideration and apply to life before I even consider rejecting any ancient doctrine outright.

It is along this path that I have been seeking to find a way for myself. I follow Love and Truth and Life. The Bible has helped me do that, and so I cherish it, but even as it reveals God’s character, its pages need to be evaluated in light of who God is. The Christian community (historic and current) has helped me to do that, but we all know that Christians are broken, stupid people just like you. My mind helps me to do it as well, but I am selfish and simple. I can only hope that God, by some miracle, is guiding me and bringing me closer to Him, and that I am learning something that I can pass on to others.