a letter

Ya know, you would think I would have learned this lesson long ago.  And I did.  There have been so many situations where I realized just how limited my influence really is, where I realized that I have so very little power to change someone.  I can never make decisions for you.  I can't force you to do anything.

And that breaks my heart.

But to be honest, many times I waver between sorrow and anger.  Sometimes you make me want to tear my hair out with frustration.  I told you how it needed to be, and you didn't listen.  You ran the other way.  You needed to learn the hard way, I suppose, but that doesn't make it any easier.  I want to be able to relate to you, but your way of looking at life is so twisted, so far removed from my own.  This drives a huge wedge into all attempts to forge communication or friendship.  I find myself unable to reason with you because we don't see things the same at all.  You see life through your pain, through your sin.  If you could only see things from my perspective, perhaps you'd understand how much easier life could be if you'd only open yourself to change.

And, eventually our bond dies.  You run the other way.  I stand here, powerless.  Crying tears of sadness and rage.

all is well

I had this "all is well" moment today, and it was a moment I'll treasure forever.

The moments of absolute peace, the moments when fears are quelled, when the storm clears, and for the first time in so long I see the sun's light.  The sun unobstructed by clouds.  Bright, clear redemption.  Reconciliation.  In that moment, I found hope again.  True hope unhindered by shame.  Unhindered by fear.  Just hope.  Hope of an even brighter tomorrow clear of anger or grudges.  Freedom.

The funny part about this moment is that although it was specific for me, I don't think I was the only one who felt it - the peace that comes through unconditional friendship and acceptance.

Today I found my release.  And I wasn't alone.  The tension of life and hard decisions evaporated in the bright rays of an afternoon together with the people who came to be my second family not that long ago.  Who will forever be my family.

I am so thankful for them.

This article fascinates me, both as a historian and as someone who can relate on some level.  Important to keep in mind, though, is that this was written in 1934, and as such represents the natural conclusion of being a Christian in a modern world, a world that had not yet seen the writing of CS Lewis or Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

on the death of hope

Sometimes life just stinks.  There's no "making it better."  There's nothing anyone can say to take away the hurt, the disillusionment, the inescapable feeling of inferiority.  The constant knowledge of how much I fall short of whatever standard it is that I'm trying to meet.

Sometimes the "life is a roller coster" idea is so true.  I live through a period of intense hope, knowing that to hope is so foolish.  'Cuz the hope always ends, and I'm back where I started... back to square one.  Back to the knowledge that I am not that which I desperately wish I was.

Sometimes I hate hope.  I hate it so much.  It always betrays me.  Always.

And that's when I "settle."  I'll take my life as is.  I'll take it, because I can learn to be satisfied with it.  I can learn to love it, even.  Rather than letting the despair overwhelm me, I deal with the death of hope by simply reminding myself that even though reality is never as good as dream, reality is good, too.

I live in a beautiful city.  I have wonderful friends here, wonderful friends back home.  I am getting my masters in history.  And it's good.  Life, that is.  Life is good.

We can't all get what we want.  Some of us will get the short end of the stick.

Sermon on the Mount vs. Great Commission

The summer before my sophomore year of college was a full one.  Not only did I spend two months at my church's summer camp as an assistant wrangler counselor, but I also was a leader on my college's "Portage" program.  This program included leading a group of incoming freshmen on an August trip in the Boundary Waters of northern MN.  It also included a two day mission trip in downtown Minneapolis.  We served at Urban Ventures (or something like that, can't remember the name for sure) in Minneapolis.  They were a Christian organization focused on helping inner-city people gain job skills.  I remember being somewhat offended by their focus on social justice.  I remember thinking that they should focus more on VBS's and Bible studies.  I remember writing them off.

Things are no longer so simple.

Occupy Wall Street has got me thinking like current events rarely do.  Thinking about what the Church should be doing.  About our mission as believers in Jesus.  About what biblical "missions" is.  

Here's the thing:

I want to believe that my mission in life is heaven and getting as many of my friends there as possible.  But if that's the goal, why was Jesus so adamant that we should feed the hungry?  I've heard so many times (and thought so many times) that we should feed the hungry so they will be more receptive to the gospel.

Is that really it, though?

That sort of mentality does not really seem to be present in the New Testament.  Sure, there's the Great Commission.  There is also the Sermon on the Mount.  There is James, telling us that our faith must be accompanied by works.  You could combine that all to mean that caring for the poor and hungry is simply a means of getting their hearts in the right place to accept the good news that when they die they're going to heaven.  

Something doesn't feel right, though, and I don't know how to resolve the tension I feel between this world and the next.

And yet, the Kingdom is here.  Life is here.  We are not alone, we have a Helper sent from God, who is God.

I don't know what to do with posts like this.  There's something so crippling about trying to be a black and white my-way-or-the-highway Christian in a world that embraces "love" and "plurality" and "acceptance."  Moreover, my branch of Christianity seems sometimes to be so country-clubby.  Sure we love.  But we love within our group.  Sure, we serve.  But we serve on the worship team or in the nursery.  

And so I don't know where to take this all.  How do I balance my faith which to me means absolutes with a world that "loves" better than most of my Christian peers?  (If, that is, love does indeed mean acceptance of difference) 

What do I do with a movement like OWS, a movement that claims to stand for the poor?  They don't have a religious agenda, and yet I have read so many blogs that urge Christians to accept them because they are standing for things Christians should stand for - the insinuation being that this non-religious movement is more religious than evangelical Christianity.  

I have no answers - just questions upon questions upon questions.  

I do think that I have come to one conclusion - American Christianity as a whole does not love the poor as we should.  We are prejudiced toward them, we stereotype them and dismiss them.  We take away their voice, assuming that voice to be uneducated and unhelpful.  We assign them the worst place at the table.  

What if we were the poor?  What if we sold our possessions to follow Christ?  What if we took our place alongside the least of these, knowing that the first shall be last?  That, I think, would be an unstoppable movement.

Right now, my life brings me into almost no contact with the poor, the orphans, or the widows of my world.  I live a privileged life of a student with no cares in the world to speak of.  I have educational goals that will in theory take me further and further from the poor.  Maybe that needs to stop.  Maybe I need to seriously consider the ways in which I can love the poor.  And not just collect food or money for them.  But meet them, befriend them, live among them.  And so there's really no contradiction between the Sermon on the Mount and the Great Commission.  The only tension is in my heart - between what I know I ought to be doing (that is, loving and serving the hurting and downtrodden) and what I am actually doing.

I also think that there's something to be said for living these ideals wherever I am.  Right now I live and work amongst college students - the modern world's elite class.  They have everything...  but they don't.  They're broken too.  The hurting and oppressed are in my midst, as well.  I need to be much more intentional about going out of my way to live my life focused on the needs of my neighbor.

That's it, I think.  Love my neighbor.  Love actively, serve diligently, never stop seeking ways to sacrifice my needs for the needs of others.

when life becomes something just to get through...

I was listening to a Superchic[k] album this morning on the way home from church, and "I Belong to You" played.

And I could really relate:

Everybody needs to belong somewhere
life can feels so alone without someone who cares 
And when life becomes something just to get through, 
that’s when I’m glad that I belong to you. 

I belong to you,I belong to you,
you’re the one who will never let me down,
won’t let me down.
I belong to you.
I belong to you. 

Sometimes life brings more pain than we can bear alone.
When hope is gone and I have no strength to stand on my own,
when nothing helps, there’s nothing that I can do,
you surround me and show me I belong to you. 

I belong to you,I belong to you,
you’re the one who will never let me down,
won’t let me down.
I belong to you.
I belong to you. 

When Love is gone there’s no arms to run to anymore,
I’m all alone there’s no one for me to live for,
letting go of the things I’ve always clung to,
that’s when I need to feel that I belong to you.

I belong to you,I belong to you,
you’re the one who will never let me down,
won’t let me down.
I belong to you.
I belong to you.


~~~


I think what really struck me was the line "when life becomes something just to get through."  Sometimes I feel as if that line describes my life.  I fill my life with this, that, and the other thing, waiting to someday belong. But no matter what, I'm always running.  Always failing, and always feeling entirely alone.  


It's in the most alone moments that I'm the most thankful for Superchic[k].


"Some days it's hard to be a one girl revolution."


Yes, Superchic[k], you are 300% correct.

I grew up thinking like an Arminian, only to be told in high school Bible instruction class that I should be a Calvinist.  I am coming to understand, though, that my "adopted" Calvinism does not always match up with the Calvinism described by those who aren't Calvinist.

The way I was taught Calvinism is this:
God chooses those he will save.  Those he will save choose him.  100%  responsibility on both sides.  This results in a paradox where I am able to adopt the mindset of an Arminian (which I had my entire life growing up).

Of course, looking at the above "100% responsibility" theory from the outside can expose it to some logical inconsistencies.  And, when being taught Calvinism, I distinctly remember those of us in the class saying things like "that makes no sense!"  And, beauty of all beauties, the instructor pulled out the "We can't understand God" card (somewhat like our explanation of the Trinity) to explain why it wouldn't make sense that both parties have 100% responsibility in the work of salvation.

It seems to me that the question is quite simple.  Either God picks out a select group of people to save and the rest He damns, or He doesn't.  My "free will" or whatever is entirely beside the point if I am only choosing God because He chose me.  If it's free will, it's free will within an incredibly bounded field.  Sorta puppet-esque.

Of course, I'm human, and God is God.  So I am by no means throwing Calvinism out entirely.  I don't know what I believe anymore.  I don't know that I ever want to join a camp.  I do know that God has saved and is saving me from my sin.  That I have a responsibility to love and serve in His name.  To let my life speak of His Gospel in ways both vocal and not.

And, at least for now, that's all that matters to me.

the older I get...

Paradox of paradoxii:

The older I get, the more I like Superchic[k].

Why is this a paradox, you may ask?  Well, it's a paradox because Superchic[k] annoyed me in high school because I felt it too "teenage girly."

Hahahaha.  Yeah, right.

Sometimes it's nice to listen to a straight-up, pulling-no-punches, girl-power band.  It's nice to be reminded that sometimes "falling in love" downright sucks.  It's nice to be reminded that someone out there is cheering for me and finds value in single hood.

I relate to Superchic[k] lyrics more than ever, now, I think.  In high school I was...removed from planet earth entirely.

I get it now.  I get it.

And, Superchic[k] is AMAZING road trip music.

my absolutes #2

This weird thing happened on Sunday morning.

I felt as if God was speaking to me through His Word, and in a way that I felt confident sharing.

I don't know if I have blogged about this before, but in the past few years, I've stopped feeling at all confident to share what God is teaching me.  I've stopped asking people what God is "teaching them" because it's so personally uncomfortable.  It's not so much that I'm not learning things, about my faith, about God, about what He wants from me.  It's more that I don't feel confident putting those things into words - I find myself afraid that I might be wrong...that I might have "heard" God incorrectly.

I realize how ridiculous the above is.

But it has been my reality.

That changed on Sunday morning in church.

I walked into worship team practice entirely distracted over being scammed out of a dollar at the gas station minutes before (long story not worth going into, because, after all, it was one dollar...).  For a while I was wondering how I was going to engage at all that morning, because I was so distracted.

And then, we were singing a song with lyrics about God's holiness, and I got to thinking about how unworthy I was to be singing those words, because if they're true...God doesn't deserve my half-hearted or entirely absent-hearted praise.  And I got to thinking about the ridiculousness of singing such words at all...we're horrible messed up people who live horrible messed up lives...and then we come to church and sing some praise songs, maybe tell ourselves we'll do better that week, and then go back to our horrible messed up lives.

And I was drawn to Isaiah 6:
 ¹ In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of his robe filled the temple. ² Above him were seraphim, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. ³ And they were calling to one another:

   “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty;
   the whole earth is full of his glory.”

 ⁴ At the sound of their voices the doorposts and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke.

 ⁵ “Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the LORD Almighty.”

 ⁶ Then one of the seraphim flew to me with a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with tongs from the altar. ⁷ With it he touched my mouth and said, “See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for.”

 ⁸ Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”

   And I said, “Here am I. Send me!”

 ⁹ He said, “Go and tell this people:

   “‘Be ever hearing, but never understanding;
   be ever seeing, but never perceiving.’
¹⁰ Make the heart of this people calloused;
   make their ears dull
   and close their eyes.^[a]
Otherwise they might see with their eyes,
   hear with their ears,
   understand with their hearts,
and turn and be healed.”

 ¹¹ Then I said, “For how long, Lord?”

   And he answered:

   “Until the cities lie ruined
   and without inhabitant,
until the houses are left deserted
   and the fields ruined and ravaged,
¹² until the LORD has sent everyone far away
   and the land is utterly forsaken.
¹³ And though a tenth remains in the land,
   it will again be laid waste.
But as the terebinth and oak
   leave stumps when they are cut down,
   so the holy seed will be the stump in the land.”

And I realized something.  Isaiah was confronted with the full holiness of God.  Right after the current king had died because of his decision to disregard the holiness of God.  He thought it was over.  Game over.  And then...  he was forgiven.  Simple as that.  Sins atoned for.  That was Jesus (there's a passage in Luke that confirms that interpretation).

And I realized the power of that.  Isaiah repented, recognized his sin...and it was taken away.  Simple as that. No barrier.  No darkness.

And, then, the natural reaction to such grace was to say "Here am I, send me."

my absolutes #1

So I thought I'd start a parallel but unrelated thread to the universal reconciliation thread, because I don't have the time or energy to continue with that thread for at least a while, and this sounds more fruitful at the moment.

I have quite recently been convicted of my need to decide what it is that I do, at core, believe, and put that in writing.  So much is up in the air for me right now theologically, and I guess I, perhaps a little like CS Lewis and Mere Christianity want to affirm what I do believe.  And more than that, I want to live like I believe it.  So often theology becomes this academic exercise of mine that does not always impact my day to day life.  But what is faith if not hopelessly interconnected with action?  Meaningless (James 2).

So, here I go.

My first absolute (based on Psalm 19):

God, the God revealed to us through the Bible, is perfect, holy, and trustworthy.  This God reveals himself through creation, a creation that constantly bears witness to God's goodness.  Humanity fails, but God never fails.  He is our Rock.  In his holiness, perfection and trustworthiness, God is entirely unwavering.  It is good to fear this God.  God also reveals himself through his law, which is a perfect reflection of the nature of God himself.  This law is life giving.  It can be trusted; it makes us wise.  God's law fills us with joy and helps us to see our way through this life.  We are hopelessly flawed, and yet by looking to the law, we find hope and direction.

universal reconciliation? part 2

Here's the link to Beck's second part question, which is
Univeralists don't believe in hell, right?


Beck does believe in hell.


He argues further that "hell" in the New Testament grew out of the Old Testament prophetic tradition.  More specifically, he says that "So, particularly in Isaiah, you see the prophets looking down the road, in anticipation of the New Testament's eschatological vision, and seeing the New Jerusalem, the ultimate victory of Good and a final punishment of evil. This view intensifies in the New Testament, eventually coalescing into the visions of heaven and hell."  Beck then goes on to argue that the more one loves, the angrier one gets, which explains all of the violent reactions of God in both the Old and New Testaments.  God's wrath and God's love are both infinite.    And although God gets really angry in the Old Testament, he also shows love in the Old Testament.  The final word is always love, according to Beck.


On the one hand, I get this.  I mean, clearly, God is a God of mercy as well as wrath.


I think, though, what is possibly missing is the fact that for those who suffered it, God's wrath was very real.  Consider those struck dead by God for their sins.  They were dead.  Gone.  Love the final word?  Well, maybe not.  They sinned, and they were punished for it.  


Of course, this life isn't the end...which does give Beck's theory some credit.  But, over all, it doesn't convince me any more than Calvinism or Arminianism.  

the state of my faith

This may be one of the saddest statements I've ever had to make:

There aren't many times in the past few years where I've been able to say with confidence that God was near.

Even tonight I struggle.  Even tonight, with with my soul's senses heightened and a inexplicable sense of urgency acute, emotion and conviction that in the past I would have attributed without hesitation to the Holy Spirit is tonight resignedly relegated to the realm of simply that, the emotional.

And yet, the part of me that I have suppressed for so long out of fear that I will do and say things in a heightened emotional state that are not really of God, the part of me that I haven't seen since the dark days of 2009 - that part is reemerging tonight, reminding me that God is indeed near, that my cry to God is not always one sided.  That God is not always silent.  That God is here.

Tonight I sat in my room in silence, mindlessly playing Tetris, as the emotion slowly built inside me - the conviction that I must not allow my life to be dictated by fear, the conviction that I must step out in faith.  Tonight I allowed myself to go back to those "Freedom" nights at Northwestern, or those hours upon hours I spent in the practice rooms in college playing piano and pouring my soul out to God.  Tonight I (very quietly since it's 1 am) truly allowed myself to lament.  I wouldn't even call it "worship," at least in the "Happy-and-you-know-it" sort of way.  I turned my piano on, opened my Bible to Psalm 51, and sang David's prayer.  Probably the crappiest composition ever, but it came from a place inside me that I had forgotten existed.  I remembered as I sang the power of prayer through music, the power of Scripture through song.  I remembered too the power of worship unhindered by rules - worship that is truly "free."  I remembered those dark nights in the summer of 2009 when I spent many a night walking through the dark South Dakota prairies crying out to God.  I remembered those moments when He was near, so near that I could almost explode from the sheer emotion of His presence.  Those moments of solitude when I allowed myself to dance, to twirl, to jump, to skip, to run as fast as possible...because He was near.  I remembered the holy presence of God in that little church up the hill from my farm, the power of singing "I Love You Lord" a cappella in an empty sanctuary in the middle of the night and hearing the simple melody fill the room to the bursting point.

All of my life I have allowed myself to be defined by my strengths.  Growing up in a small town surrounded by loving family and friends was good for the ego.  Here in this new place, that is all stripped away.  I'm not the best thing since sliced bread here (not that I was back home, either, just for the record).  Here I'm just another face in the crowd, another discordant voice adding to a beautiful symphony.  But here I realize more fully the depth of my weakness.  My strengths are no longer at the forefront.  I find myself often dictated by fear.  Fear not only of what people may think if I step out of the crowd to take a leadership role, but fear that I will fail in what I feel compelled to do.  So I don't do it.  And what I do, I do halfheartedly so that when I do fail, it won't be for trying.

That needs to be done.

I'm going to close by typing out Psalm 51.  I challenge you to take the chance from time to time to find a place alone somewhere and sing the Psalms.  It changes everything for me.  Brings it alive...brings the sheer emotion of the words to life.  After all, the Psalms were originally songs...that's what they're meant for.

My lament:

Psalm 51
Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.
For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is always before me.
Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you are proved right when you speak
and justified when you judge.
Surely I was sinful at birth,
sinful from the time my mother conceived me.
Surely you desire truth in the inner parts;
you teach me wisdom in the inmost place.
Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.
Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones you have crushed rejoice.
Hide your face from my sins
and blot out all my iniquity.
Create in me a pure heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from your presence
or take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation
and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.
Then I will teach transgressors your ways,
and sinners will turn back to you.
Save me from bloodguilt, O God,
the God who saves me,
and my tongue will sing of your righteousness.
O Lord, open my lips,
and my mouth will declare your praise.
You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it;
you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.
In your good pleasure make Zion prosper;
build up the walls of Jerusalem.
Then there will be righteous sacrifices,
whole burnt offerings to delight you;
then bulls will be offered on your altar.

universal reconciliation? part 1

The Three Propositions

The above link is the first part of Richard Beck's 10 part blog series on the topic of Christian universalism.

He cites Talbott's three propositions:
1) God desires everyone to be saved.
2) God will save who he desires.
3) Some people will not be saved.

Calvinists hold to 2 and 3.
Arminians hold to 1 and 3.
Universalists hold to 1 and 2.

I would consider myself to be an uncommitted Calvinist.  I was raised Calvinist but obviously have a lot of good friends who are Arminian.  I recognize the biblical support for each, and the fact that neither has a fool proof argument.  But I'm biased toward Calvinism.  Perhaps that's the power of Beck's argument for univeralism.  Not only do universalists draw from the same set of propositions as "the rest of us," but they fully recognize that no one theory is going to perfectly tie together Scripture.  It's too big for us.  Calvinism makes sense.  But, ignoring the huge amount of bias against a universal theory of salvation that I carry with me, universalism seems also to be biblically based.  Plus, I hear that people like CS Lewis were universalists.  Automatic bonus points to the universalists... :)

At this point I don't really have any valid reservations with his argument on this specific topic (at least logically/theoretically speaking).  I would love to hear if anyone else does.  The only thing floating around in my mind is the question of whether or not the three propositions are a fair framework to force onto Scripture.  Can we really fit existing doctrines of salvation into that small of a box?

I wish I could get my hands on Talbott's book (the guy that originally came up with the three propositions).  I'm having a hard time finding anything on google about them, and I certainly couldn't expect my calvinist theology book to offer me much help on the issue... haha.

~~

So all my life I was taught that because no one deserves salvation, election makes sense.  No one deserves it, I don't, you don't... so the fact that God saves some of us means he's a merciful God.  But He's still wrathful, so he "has to" not save some.  Now that I think about it...that kinda bothers me a little.  God has to do what? Send people to hell?  Leaving Arminianism out of the picture for the moment and assuming God's absolute sovereignty to be absolute, why would he have to do anything?  Was Jesus' blood not enough for everyone's sins?  Clearly a Calvinist would say, "yes, Jesus' blood is sufficient."  To say anything else is blasphemy.  And yet, God chooses to send some of us to hell.

Of course, these questions that I am asking leave out the clear message of judgement and hell in the Bible.  You can't get away from hell.  It's quite clearly a very real presence in the New Testament, unless there's something major missing from my (and others') understanding of seemingly clear language.  We mess it up, big time.  We sin constantly.  We're stained, and this keeps us from God.  Nothing we do can make it right.  We need Jesus to make it right.  This seems to lend itself well to a Calvinist or Arminian understanding of the matter.  And yet, as I have seen all to clearly, the matter is not so clear, at least not for someone like Beck.

universal reconciliation?

So, you should go HERE and read this.  It's super long with lots of links to even longer articles, but it's crazy good.  I'm not sure how much I "should" or do agree with, although I must admit that I find myself very intrigued by the 'biblicalness" of the theology and the adherence to Scripture as inspired, since in the past I would have seen this sort of thing as borderline heretical.

I think my long term goal is to tackle each of the topics that Beck addresses in this post - to explore the "other side" and to come to some sort of honest conclusion on where I stand.  But, I'm a history graduate student with a masters' thesis to write, so I promise nothing on any sort of time table.  For now, please consider taking the time to read the above link and feel free to comment with any thoughts you may have.  Or if you know me, call me and we can talk voice to voice.  Or if you live near me, let's get coffee and talk! :)

I think that's maybe my biggest goal with this blog's new emphasis - to stop hiding the questions, to stop running from the theological quandaries.  To face them with the Bible as my basis and my guide.  To stop falling in line with a denominational creed just "because."  I want my faith to be my own, but to come from a careful searching of the Scriptures and consultation of wise people.

'Cause I know my God is big enough to handle it.

shifting focus

So, after some thought, I've decided to change my blog up a little.  I had contemplated starting a new blog entirely and abandoning this one, but I suppose there's no need for that.  I won't be doing random life updates anymore though.  Rather, I'll be attempting to tackle theological issues I find pressing and/or broader questions about life and faith.  We shall see where it leads me.

life update.

Life is good.  Crazy, not always as productive as it should be (it never is), but it's good.  I've reconciled myself to letting the PhD train pass by for the year, and I'm thinking about what it is exactly that I want to do with myself when I obtain my masters.

Get a job in Bellingham?  Maybe.  I have my eye on one job in particular.

Today, though, a new option popped onto the horizon:
http://www.daad.org/?p=languagecourses#requirements

Study abroad in Germany in a language intensive program for two months.  All expenses (literally everything - food, lodging, travel, tuition) paid.  Not bad, not bad at all.  That would take care of my itch to go to Europe.  Very nicely in fact.  Once there, I could totally extend my trip by a week or two and see some of the rest of the continent.  It'd be a grand adventure, and a nice way to put off real life.  Also a good thing to put on my resume, and a good way to gain a better working knowledge of German - I'm coming to the conclusion that my exposure here at Western will not gain me the working knowledge of the language that I will need to be successful as a PhD student.

In other news, life here in B-ham has been splendid.  I'm learning so much about myself, growing so much in my faith as I intentionally seek community with other believers, and I think I'm finally becoming an adult in the more full sense of the word (although I'm sure "growing up" will continue well into technical adulthood).  Small groups have been such a blessing this fall - we've had two weeks in a row now of deep, real conversation about the things of God.  Conversations that flow naturally, unhindered by rules about how a small group should go.  Conversations that last well over the prescribed time limit.  Conversations that have changed so much for me, that have reintroduced me to the wisdom of the theology with which I was raised.  Although I still question, and I still struggle with the hard questions, small groups have enabled me to see that others also struggle with these things, and that there is wisdom and light at the end of the tunnel.  I have seen a glimpse of how big the God I serve is.  Bigger than human weakness, doubt, and sin.

epiphany on my philosophy of alcohol

Last week I went to the grocery store and bought a bottle of wine (it was pretty fun to have to show my ID, not gonna lie).

For those of you who know me well, this may bring about a small (or large) gasp.

I'm twenty three years old, and up to this point I had contented myself with sips of alcoholic beverages just to find out what they taste like.  I wasn't usually impressed - the taste of alcohol ruined the inherent goodness of liquid for me.

But, I figured I needed to actually figure out what this alcohol thing is all about.  Ever since I reached adulthood, but especially since I turned twenty one, my philosophy of alcohol consumption has been slowly shifting, and it has now reached the point where I have very few reservations to the responsible consumption of alcohol in moderation.  All things in moderation, right?  So, in keeping with my new-found liberalism, I went to the grocery store and bought a bottle of Sweet Riesling white wine.  7.5% alcohol content, $10 for the bottle.

Quite candid reasons I have abstained (up to this point):
-fear that one sip of the "forbidden fruit" will leave me unable to resist drunkenness.  that if once I take a sip of the evil liquid, I'll become an alcoholic.  Or at least that the consumption of alcohol (even if in moderation) will cause me to do things I normally wouldn't.  A loss of control, however slight, is not something I welcome. (which may be an entirely different issue)
-cost.  it's so expensive.  why drink something that could easily consume half of my food budget if habitual?
-taste/purpose.  If alcohol itself doesn't taste good, why include it in an otherwise perfectly fine drink?  If intoxication isn't the purpose of drinking, what is?  Why drink something that serves no decent purpose in and of itself?  Up to this point, basically, I viewed alcohol as at the best neutral and at the worst negative.  Although I could forgive and accept those who consumed it, I didn't quite understand why they would toe the line of gray morality.
-the philosophy that drinking alcohol might cause another Christian "to stumble."  I think most Christians are familiar with this logic.  

But, I've slowly been realizing that these reasons, although perhaps partly based in logic, reason, and sound doctrine, do not entirely reflect the reality of the situation.  And as all of my carefully constructed reasons against the consumption of alcohol disintegrated into self-admitted legalism, I realized it was time to "culture" myself.

So I bought a bottle of wine.

You should have seen me drink that first glass. (a few people experienced my "freak-out" on facebook).  I was scrutinizing myself with every sip, waiting to feel some effect, waiting to start spilling my guts or start slurring my words, or typing slowly, or something.  After all, alcohol is an at-best-neutral-at-worst-sinful thing, right?

I finished the glass, and apart from being maybe slightly more tired or relaxed or warm than I was when I started, I felt absolutely not a thing.  I drank another glass.  Nothing.  (mind you, this took place over the course of at least an hour - no chugging for me).

As far as taste went, I wasn't overly impressed.  Especially as time went on and the temperature of the wine increased, it became more and more something I was choking down just for the sake of choking it down.  Which fit with my previous philosophy on the neutrality/negativeness of alcohol. 

Over the course of the next three nights, I finished that bottle of wine.  Not because I'm hopelessly addicted (lol), but because I bought it, "wasting" $10, and because it makes me feel warm, it relaxes my muscles, and hey, why not.

And I realized my previously held assumptions, although not entirely wrong (I don't plan to become a regular consumer of alcohol), were pretty ridiculous.  I can drink two glasses of the stuff (two big glasses) without losing my sense of "me."  I can even be productive and do homework while "under the influence."  I don't like the taste or the cost or the potential of dependence on something, so I'm not planning to drink wine every night or even buy another bottle for a while.  But I liked the way it made me feel - relaxed & warm.  Before I bought the bottle of wine, my back and neck was a MESS.  I was having tension headaches almost constantly.  Interestingly enough, that is so much improved since drinking the bottle of wine over the past 4 days.  Maybe coincidence, I'm not sure. 

As far as causing Christians to stumble, I think that's hogwash.  Sorry, but I'm not going to try to tiptoe around this one for the sake of those who disagree with me.  You're welcome to disagree, because two years ago, I would have disagreed.  But, I'm trying to imagine my former self watching my current self consume that bottle of wine.  Sure, my former self would have judged my current self.  Would my former self have stumbled?  I don't think so.  I think my former self would have just judged.  Just decided that my current self is somehow less holy and less Christian because I drank that bottle of wine.  My former self would have been justified in her legalism.

I do think that drinking alcohol with a former alcoholic who is trying to abstain entirely for entirely good reasons would fall under the definition of causing someone to stumble.  Obviously.  But I - *gasp* - drank that bottle of wine by myself.

So very sorry, childhood me, but I'm abandoning (and have abandoned) my hard-core alcohol-is-evil-I-will-never-drink-it-so-help-me-God mentality.  I'm no longer afraid of it.  When consumed in responsible moderation, it has no power over me.

I can - surprise of all surprises - drink on occasion and still be a Christian.

~~~

---after posting this, a friend pointed out the problem of chasing after "the feeling" that alcohol gives as a potential emotional addiction.  I think this is a legitimate point, and would like to clarify that my section on "the feeling" that alcohol brings was not intended to imply that alcohol is the only way to achieve these results.  I think a warm bath serves just as well.  I just realized over the past few days that the "effects" of alcohol don't need to be viewed in a purely negative light.

~~~

---another side note.  If I am to be completely honest, the most disquieting thing about the whole "bottle o' wine" experience was that I drank the bottle in four days.  Not because I think it is in any way unhealthy in and of itself, but because I think it says something about my personality and my flaws.  A "normal" person ascribing to a "drink on occasion" philosophy would probably take much longer to finish the bottle.  When I latch onto something, I tend to latch on very easily.  I don't always have the most self-control, and it's hard for me to do things "in moderation."  Although I was not really tempted to "over-indulge" in one sitting, it was also very easy for me to drink the wine because it was there, sitting in my fridge, even though I didn't really like the taste.  It's like coffee in many ways.  I drink coffee just because it's sorta expected, not because I like it.  Why do I do this?  I'm not sure...mostly just because it's available.  It is important to me to not always do things just because it's an option.  This experience importantly reminded me of the importance of self control - not just in not getting drunk, but also in the generally more applicable act of abstaining from something just because it is not necessary.

Maybe a little like reality tv, or facebook.  I need more self control all the time. :)

just one example of the unraveling of Marilee's nerdy love of school

I feel like my sense of control is rapidly spiraling out of control.

I have so. much. grading. to do in the next week and two days.  So. Much. Grading.  SO. MUCH. GRADING.  SO! MUCH! GRADING!  Okay, I'll stop that.  But seriously.  It's gotten to the point where I'm sleep deprived (partly my fault, I couldn't resist staying up super late to watch the latest episode of the Biggest Loser last night which makes me officially lame and irresponsible) and stressed, and where instead of doing the grading, I just don't.  I'm in full-blown procrastination mode, figuring that one way or the other it'll work itself out in the end (most likely consisting of a grading marathon the night before the deadline where Marilee grades for twelves hours straight).  I've never really been a procrastinator before, so it confuses me that I'm dealing with stress/too much to do by just....not doing it.

Like...I decided tonight to just go to bed. (I also decided to stop reading a book that we are supposed to read for class next week - it's a primary source so I'm just going to rely on the first 60 pages that I skimmed for pertinent evidence, but that's another story)  Of course, go to bed doesn't mean go to bed.  Go to bed means lay in my bed and write this blog entry followed by an episode of "How I Met Your Mother."  I've discovered that that show is just interesting enough to keep my interest in a long term sense (there are a ton of episodes/seasons and I can find them all relatively easy online) and just boring enough to make me sleepy (reality tv makes me really excited/happy and I never get tired while watching it - yet another example of Marilee's epic lame-ness).    Much of the time I only make it through part of an episode before going to sleep (and each episode is only 20 minutes long).

Tomorrow I will pay for my irresponsibility and social life tonight.  Tomorrow is my "thesis day" but it's going to turn into a "thesis day until 5:00 pm" after which it will be church small groups and then grade like a maniac/do homework til 4 am. 

I'm looking forward to it.

Not.

well, hey, this is the 300th post... woot!

This is the time of year where all of my friends at school are applying for phD programs.  I never dreamed I wouldn't be among their ranks.  And yet, here I am twiddling my thumbs (okay, not really, but I'm not stressed about statements of purpose, that's for sure) while they all pay hundreds of dollars to apply to schools. 

On the one hand I feel sorta left out.  The people surrounding me are so committed to this history thing.  They're so excited about the future.  They have people they want to study under, topics they want to study.  It's somewhat contagious.  But at my core I know I'm just not ready.  They're committed.

And I'm, well, sometimes I feel as if I'm just going through the motions.  I like history.  I like school.  I like asking questions about the past.  But I need a break.  Maybe an indefinite one.  I want to find a job (I'm scared of the possibility of failing to find anything good, but I am excited about the prospects of finding one I could really enjoy), and I want a real life.  I want to just be for a while. 

And so I allow myself to be left behind.  I allow myself to not do that one thing I have been telling everyone I was going to do.  I allow myself to fail.  And there's freedom in that.  The same sort of freedom as I found in dropping my education major.

On the one hand, I like teaching.  I loved substitute teaching, I loved camp counseling, I loved teaching vacation bible school, I loved being a daycare teacher, I loved leading educational programs at a state park, and I love being a teaching assistant.

And yet, for whatever reason, I hesitate.  I'm not sure why I hesitate.  It's like...I could do it.  I might like it.

But I don't necessarily know if I have ever considered it my "calling."  My passion.  My passion is loving people.  Meeting people where they are, and loving them.  Learning their stories.  Laughing with them, crying with them.  Sharing with them my hope and my joy.  In many ways my happiest times have been waitressing at a truck stop or folding clothes at Walmart.  The little things, the mundane things.  If it weren't for the simple fact that I have to make ends meet I'd do those types of jobs for the rest of my life.

Meh.  Life can be exhausting sometimes.

criterion for awesomeness: age.

I have decided that most of my favorite people in life are way way way older than me. 

Today I spent the afternoon with a couple in their late 80s.  I'd never met them before, and I am not going to lie, I was pretty excited to meet them.  I wasn't disappointed.  I love the wealth of wisdom, knowledge, and life experience that elderly people have.  These particular people came of age in the early 40s and moved to Japan as missionaries in 1949.  The deep sadness in her eyes as she talked about everything ordinary Japanese lost during the war resonated deeply with me, as did the wisdom with which she talked about the role of emotion in worship. 

Some day I want to be a wise old person with years of life experience under my belt.  I want to be one of those old people who young people look to for wisdom and stories of what it was like coming of age at the turn of the century.  I want to live in a condo overlooking a beautiful lake and be able to look back on my life with a sure sense of having lived well, fully, and joyfully. 

I won't forget these people, even if I never see them again.  In a few short hours, they have reminded me of what it means to live a humble life of service to God, and also of what it means to serve God with every breath.  Even though they are looking back on the majority of their lives, they are still fully living and serving in the present.  In welcoming me into their home today, they touched my life in more ways than they may ever know.

always and forever

I've been realizing something more and more with each passing day.

The day I leave the Pacific Northwest will be a very sad day.  I hope that day never comes.

I love it here, in a way that I've never loved a place before.  I've loved places for the people, I have loved places for the memories.

This time I love my new home for the people, I love my new home for the memories, and, perhaps most strangely, I love my new home for the place itself.  I love the water, the mountains, the weather.  I love the rain, I love the cool summers and mild winters.  I love the salt water bays and the beauty of the mountain lakes.  I love it all.

Moving back to the midwest or elsewhere next summer, although good in some ways, would also break my heart...

This place will always and forever have a piece of my heart.

my day.

I feel like a rockstar.

Today I:

1) woke up at 10 am (okay, that part isn't very rock-star-ish)
2) went to school and led one of the classses I am TAing for in discussion.
3) was told by the professor that I did a really good job.
4) went to German and came home (okay, that part isn't very rock-star-ish, either)
5) recorded participation grades for the discussion as well as grading all of their "analytical questions" that they had to hand in today (a two hour process given the fact that there are 60 students in the class)
6) read 126 pages of a novel for that same class and wrote some discussion questions (I'm leading discussion again next week)
7) read 75 pages out of a book I'm reading for my grad seminar.
8) won two games of settlers.  The first game was particularly rock-star-ish.  The game started out with me in a somewhat poor position.  The guy with the great position decided to be power hungry and build a ton of roads before we could build any (to try to block us off) but completely failed to build them in the right places.  Meanwhile, I built a city on one of my settlements, and proceeded to EXPLODE.  I won 10-5-4.  Then I played against the "I'm going to build a bunch of roads because I'm power hungry" guy again.  And won.  again.  It's so fun being shamelessly competitive in a venue where no one can see my ridiculous actions and reactions.  There was a lot of celebration occurring, I won't lie.  All they saw, though, was the polite "good game" at the end.  Oh, and just to clear up any confusion, I do not always win.  So don't be overly intimidated.

salvation part 2

Last night I was feeling the crush of building up emotion over my recent struggle with the concept of salvation. I think maybe the biggest result of studying history has been the historicization of many of the cultural things I always took for granted as "God-breathed." This creates a mental world in which my faith and the absolute claims it makes clash very obviously and painfully with the mainstream of my profession. Intellectual honesty requires me to confront things that make me feel like a failure to my Christian church, family, and friends even for considering them. I try to keep most of my questions to myself, because I am afraid of the result of allowing the questions the light of day. This blog absorbs much of my musings.

Last night I wrote a blog entry. It got lost right as I was posting it, and I did not attempt to rewrite it because the very process of writing the entry gave me so much clarity, but I didn't feel I could recreate it sufficiently. And I didn't really have the energy to try.

But tonight I was reading over my most recent published post, and feeling like I aired so many questions that I would hate for someone to take out of context.

I want my evangelical Christian readers to understand that most of my questions are answered on the side of evanglical Christianity. It constantly amazes me how many questions I ask only to realize that the Biblical training I received as a child was incredibly sound and that I was probably quite foolish to ask the question in the first place. But the point is that I need to ask the questions. It's no longer sufficient for me to blindly believe the faith of my youth. And so I put myself in the hands of God, trusting that His truth will prevail. Praying for wisdom, and the grace to admit when I'm wrong, and to know when I need to abandon previously held assumptions. And also to know when I must reject the worldly training (not necessarily the academic side of things... mostly just general things and ideas I'm exposed to as an indirect consequence of my historical training) I am currently receiving in favor of a world-view that at times runs in the face of everything I am currently being trained in.

I would like to quote an excerpt from the first chapter of Rob Bell's book Love Wins, which I have recently been scanning. It's written in a rather poetical style, fyi.

"In Luke 7 we read a story about a Roman centurion who sends a message to Jesus, telling him that all he has to do is say the word and the centurion’ssick servant will be healed. Jesus is amazed at the man’s confidence in him, and, turning to the crowd following him, he says, “I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel.”

Then in Luke 18, Jesus tells a story about two people who go to the temple to pray. The one prays about how glad he is to not be a sinner like other people, while the other stands at a distance and says, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

And then in Luke 23, the man hanging on the cross next to Jesus says to him, “Remember me when you come into your kingdom,” and Jesus assures him that they’ll be together in paradise.
So in the first story the centurion gives a speech about how authority works, in the second story the man praying asks for mercy, and in the third story the man asks to be remembered at a future date in time.

In the first case, Jesus isn’t just accepting and approving; he’s amazed.
And in the second case, he states that the man’s words put him in better
standing with God than God’s own people.
And in the third case, the man is promised that later that very day he will
be with Jesus in “paradise.”

So is it what you say that saves you?

But then in John 3 Jesus tells a man named Nicodemus that if he wants to see the “kingdom of God” he must be “born again.”
And in Luke 20, when Jesus is asked about the afterlife, he refers in his
response to “those who are considered worthy of taking part in the age to
come.”

So is it about being born again or being considered worthy?
Is it what you say or what you are that saves you?

But then, in Matthew 6, Jesus is teaching his disciples how to pray, and he says that if they forgive others, then God will forgive them, and if they don’t forgive others, then God won’t forgive them.
Then in Matthew 7 Jesus explains, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom, but only those who do the will of my Father.”
And then in Matthew 10 he teaches that “those who stand firm till the end will be saved.”
So do we have to forgive others, do the will of the Father, or “stand firm” to be accepted by God?
Which is it?
Is it what we say,
or what we are,
or who we forgive,
or whether we do the will of God,
or if we “stand firm” or not?

But then in Luke 19, a man named Zacchaeus tells Jesus, “Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”
Jesus’s response? “Today salvation has come to this house.”
So is it what we say,
or is it who we are,
or is it what we do,
or is it what we say we’re going to do?

And then in Mark 2, Jesus is teaching in a house and some men cut a hole in the roof and lower down their sick friend for Jesus to heal. When Jesus sees their faith, he says to the paralyzed man, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
His sins are forgiven because of their faith?
Is it what you say,
or who you are,
or what you do,
or what you say you’re going to do,
or is it who your friends are or what your friends do?

But then in 1 Corinthians 7 it’s written: “How do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband? Or, how do you know, husband, whether you will save your wife?” And then Paul writes in his first letter to Timothy that women “will be saved through childbearing” (chap. 2).
So is it what you say,
or who you are,
or what you do,
or what you say you’re going to do,
or who your friends are,
or who you’re married to,
or whether you give birth to children?

These questions bring us to one of the first “conversion” stories of the early church. We read in Acts 22 about a man named Saul (later, Paul) who is traveling to the city of Damascus to persecute Christians when he hears a voice ask him, “Why do you persecute me?” He responds, “Who are you, Lord?” The voice then replies: “I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting. . . . Get up and go into Damascus, and there you will be told all that you have been assigned to do.”
That’s his “conversion” experience?
Paul is asked a question.
Paul then asks a question in response to the question he’s just been asked.
He’s then told it’s Jesus and he should go into the city and he’ll know what to do.
Is it what you say,
or who you are,
or what you do,
or what you say you’re going to do,
or who your friends are,
or who you’re married to,
or whether you give birth to children?
Or is it what questions you’re asked?
Or is it what questions you ask in return?
Or is it whether you do what you’re told and go into the city?
And then in Romans 11, Paul writes, “And in this way all Israel will be saved.”
All of Israel?
So is it the tribe, or family, or ethnic group you’re born into?"

~

He goes on.

That, in essence, though, is the question I was asking. WHY THE CRAP ARE THERE SO MANY WAYS OF BEING SAVED PRESENTED IN THE NEW TESTAMENT? And, last night, I was pretty emotional about it. After all, it's a weighty question, especially given Protestant Christianity's emphasis on grace and simple acceptance of Christ's gift of salvation. What are we to do with passages such as the rich man who comes to Jesus and asks how to be saved and Jesus tells him to sell everything he has? What about that? What about 1 John and the command to love if indeed we can be considered children of light?

At this point, I want to be clear: I do not agree with the conclusions Bell comes to as a result of posing the above question. He basically argues for universalism, and not only that, a hell that is very this-worldly. In addition, often he allows his argument to be purely rhetorical, and often he does not consider verses that would not lend themselves well to his argument. But, can we please stop screaming "Heresy!!" when we hear about his book? Because a) most of the people who scream heresy have not read it and b) his questions are valid - they are a result of living in this world. A result of loving people and not being able to bear the thought of eternal damnation. They are a result of real issues that Christians cannot afford to tiptoe around. Can we not wrestle with the apparent contradictions in the New Testament? Because when we do, I believe THAT is when we will come to a truth that we can live with. That we can live for. That we can give our lives for and die for.

John 3:16-19 - "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. [at this point last night, I was ready to throw this in the box of evidence for Rob Bell's conclusions. But then I kept reading.] Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God's one and only Son. This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil."
John 3:36 - "Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life, but whoever rejects the Son will not see life, for God's wrath remains on him."

As a sinner, as a child of God, and as a person, I am called to love everyone as God does. Whereas God's wrath is real, and His wrath is just, I am called simply to love. To forgive, and to extend mercy. If I truly love my neighbors, my heart will break for them. As God's heart breaks when one lamb is lost. But He goes after the lamb until He finds it.

That, I think, is where I find my hope. That maybe, just maybe, I don't know the whole story...that maybe, just maybe (and this is where I think Bell's greatest strength lies), God's love and mercy and election is wider and more powerful than I had ever imagined. That maybe, just maybe there's more to the story than I know.

Because this I do know: "The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin." Exodus 34:6-7a [to be fair, the latter part of verse 7 refers to God's wrath and punishment - that's my biggest pet peeve, when people leave the inconvenient parts out for the sake of rhetoric.]

honest and somewhat rambling thoughts on salvation

Once again Survivor has me thinking deeply about Christianity/faith/theology. Last season it was Matt. This season it's Russell Hantz' nephew, Brandon.

Brandon is a Christian. Brandon is also a piece of work. I find myself relating to Brandon, and simultaneously wanting to distance myself from him.

Brandon came on the show openly Christian. Being Russell Hantz' nephew (the biggest villain ever to play the game), he was openly trying to "redeem the family name." He wanted to play an honest, straightforward, Christ-honoring game without the lying, cheating, and backstabbing often associated with the game and with his uncle. Within days of the beginning of the game, however, Brandon (a late 20s early 30s married man) began to notice an attractive woman on his tribe. Threatened by her sensuality (she is actually portrayed in a quite modest light - to be fair that may just be editing), he embarks on a mission to vote her out ASAP. This eventually involves him throwing a fit, telling some lies, and then feeling horribly guilty and laying by the fire covered in ashes (yeah, I kid you not on that last part). Overcome with guilt and shame, he comes clean to his tribe, admitting his wrongdoing and asking their forgiveness. He is clearly tortured by his failures - he continually makes reference to his inability to do good no matter how hard he tries. At the same time he exhibits an attitude of "I did something wrong, so now I will ask for forgiveness and it will all be fine." His tribe is skeptical at best - after all, he is Russell's nephew.

And I wonder...is that really what "salvation" is? Is our friend Brandon really "in" because he adheres to a creed that leaves him blindly judging a woman for her seductive wiles and using his faith to justify getting her out of the game no matter the cost? Is he really "in" because he asked for forgiveness?

I've always known/believed that it is not possible to truly judge the state of someone's soul. This logic has saved me from complete meltdown when a good friend who I was sure was a Christian walked away from the faith. I guess she wasn't really ever in. (Or, alternately, I abandon any notion of "predestination," which is what I pretty much did (at least in practice) as a result of that experience). Only God knows if someone truly meant it when they prayed the prayer.

And yet, I know people here at graduate school who are entirely and openly unreligious and yet who are not only some of the nicest people I've ever known but also champion the cause of the poor and the orphans better and more fully than most Christians I have known.

I have begun to cringe whenever I hear language that refers to God saving only those who acknowledge Him. I have begun to cringe at the thought of a club that one is either "in" or "not in" based either on one's ability to accept evangelical Christianity or their predestined selection by God for salvation. I cringe because I know people who do not believe in God but wish they did. I know people who want most of the same things I want, but just don't put a religious label on it. It's not only the people in ancient America prior to European colonization who never heard the gospel who we can ask hard questions about. It's also every single one of the people I love so dearly who do not ascribe to my religious beliefs. They have their reasons for not. Maybe they were raised to believe that Christianity is the biggest joke ever. Is it a simple matter of changing one's mind to convert to a creed that goes against everything you were raised to believe or have come to believe about the nature of a "God?"

And I am wrestling with this cringing...trying to figure out where my theological allegiance really ought to lie. Because I do not want to believe something because I was raised to believe it, and I don't want to believe something because my liberal education at a state university pushed me there. I want to believe it because I have honestly searched the Scriptures, searched my heart, and talked to wise people and read wise books and have come to a conclusion that I believe at the bottom of my heart to be the most responsible conclusion. And I am fully aware that my presence "in the world," may have corrupted me to the truth...may have made me cringe at the things of God when in fact such an attitude is sin. And so I advance with utmost caution... knowing that where I go there may be no coming back.

At the same time, though, I believe that I am called to cringe. If in fact my non-Christian friends are bound for hell, I still believe I should cringe at that thought. I should err on the side of hoping and praying that Christianity has it wrong on the subject of hell. If hell is what Christians say it is...I don't want it to exist. And even though I believe it does exist in some form (hell was actually the subject of a pretty in depth study I did a few weeks ago), I revolt against the idea that I can pick out who is bound for it and who isn't.

I know what you are thinking (those of you who are evangelical Christians). I know, because I have lived that mindset for forever. I know all of the problems with what I just wrote. I know them, don't worry. But I needed to write it because I feel compelled to honesty here. I feel compelled to follow these horribly hard questions to their natural conclusion (if there is one to be found).

A friend and I are studying salvation this week (which is why all of these thoughts have converged, actually). We're going through our concordances verse by verse looking up all the verses that have salvation in them. I went through the Old Testament and all of the verses I found (with the possible exception of Isaiah) referred to salvation in an earthly sense. Sure, you could draw parallels to a more evangelical Christian sensibility of the word, but the most obvious conclusion to draw was that the Psalmists and others who talked of salvation were talking of deliverance in battle or from a particular enemy, or even from sin in an immediate sense.

And I've also been looking through the New Testament. "Helmet of salvation" from Ephesians 6 is actually a reference to Isaiah.... which is a passage about earthly salvation. What am I do do with that? I think that I need to accept the fact that salvation can be both on earth and other-worldly. But I don't know that for certain.

What about Philippians 2:12? "Continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling." What if we interpret that in its most obvious way...that our salvation is a moment of justification achieved on the cross so many years ago followed by a long period of sanctification, in which our salvation is "worked out." What if that period of sanctification is the important part? What if it's not so much about the justification (at least as it works out in our lives after it has done its initial act of rebirth) but about the being made holy? What if the reason for all of the writing about works in the New Testament is because "those crazy Catholics" had a few things right (namely more of an emphasis on works). Not because we are perfect in and of ourselves, but because Christ's sacrifice on the cross enables us to begin the process of sanctification?

What if "salvation" as a word in the New Testament shouldn't be viewed so completely as "other-worldly?" What if it is salvation from sin every day? What if it is salvation from circumstance on a day-to-day level?

Also fascinating is the word "eternal" in the New Testament. It originally comes form Daniel 12:2. So, the OT was eschatological. What eternal life means, though, is "life in the age to come." Which is interesting, given the conception of eternal in English as something that goes on and on and on. And maybe it has that meaning too, I don't know. I haven't had enough time to study it out fully. But... when the gospel of John uses the phrase "eternal life," it is saying that Jesus is the fulfillment of the OT. That is craziness... the first century was the "age to come."

At this point, I simply must quote a website I just found: "Judaism taught that this eternal life would only appear in God's last day, or in the age to come. John declares that this eschatological day of salvation has already arrived in the Person of Jesus. In Him the life of the age to come has appeared. Eternity has broken into history. This message is every bit as startling as the Synoptic message that the kingdom of God has arrived in Jesus Christ, or the Pauline message that the eschatological judgment with its acquitting verdict has already been revealed in the Christ event, or the message of Hebrews that Calvary is Yom Kippur." http://www.presenttruthmag.com/archive/XXIII/23-8.htm

But that isn't it. John 20:31 - "But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name." Life. The age to come. So what age is being spoken of here? Is "the age to come" already there while John is writing? Jesus came to earth - broke through into time. Brought "eternity" here. And if it's not talking about life in the future... then what is the point of it all? Is John introducing yet another age? I suppose that would explain traditional Christian concepts/passages that seem to talk of heaven (and I'm certainly not trying to debate heaven, at least at this juncture ;) ). But what about Revelation? And, what about the rich man who asked Jesus what he must do to inherit "eternal life?" (life in the age to come according to the above...what age?) Jesus replies that he must love selflessly (give away all his possessions to the poor and then follow Him). To love is to fulfill the law. Thus...the man must take real steps to sacrifice everything to follow Jesus. And then he will have treasure in heaven. that's the really puzzling part of this whole thing, actually. Heaven. Kingdom of Heaven, Kingdom of God... both were on earth as well as "heaven." Is Jesus talking about the Kingdom here when he refers to heaven?

And I ramble, and it's late. And at every turn I am reminded of how little I know about the God I serve. At how little I can truly understand.

I think that's why I feel compelled to ask these questions about salvation and about eternal life. I feel compelled to ask them because I never want to assume that I know how God works. I never want to put Him in a box (as well as all of my non-Christian friends) and simply coast through life assuming I've somehow already been saved. I want to embrace sanctification...I want to strive every day to be more like Christ. I want to shed all of the doctrines I hold that are simply baggage. (Does it really matter what the secret password into heaven is if I am making every effort to model what it means to follow Christ to those around me? Does it really matter what the nature of the judgment is that awaits those whom will not be saved? Does it really matter what heaven is going to look like or when I'm going to get there?

I don't think it does, so much. I think it is far more important for me to err on the side of love. To refrain from living in such a way that obsesses over my membership in the club called "Christian." To instead love God in such a way as to point everyone I meet to Him. To give everyone I meet the chance to meet, know, love and serve the God whose love goes on forever.

This weird, weird, weird thing is happening.

I'm mentally checking out of school.

I still do my homework, I still somewhat enjoy it.

But I'm checking out. I'm starting to think about jobs, real life, where I'd like to move to start my real life, and the like.

This is weird. I've always been a "can't get enough of school" type of person. Maybe it changed this summer when I was able to learn for learning's sake. When I fell in love with studying theology...when the world opened up to me in a big way. Maybe it changed when I realized that Walmart could be a career. Maybe it changed when I realized I'm almost twenty-four and I don't fit in at "college" anymore.

In any case, I'm becoming more and more certain that in June I may be on the hunt for a job.

Scary.

But I think it might be time.

I found this poem that I wrote a while back and I thought I'd share it.

My carefully constructed narratives
my elaborately woven constructions
the walls I built high around me
like a strong, unbreachable fortress
against ever encroaching despair
for ever achieving a future
that is never quite mine
fall to the floor in shambles
at the first breath of hope
at the first reemergence
of that for which I never stopped dreaming

the end of the school road?

The last week has been strange, because things have been shifting very rapidly for me.

I am beginning to seriously question whether or not I will even apply to PhD programs. I just don't know if I am at a point in my life where I can say with any amount of certainty that another two to four years of school is what I want.

I guess I'm just coming to this weird place where I just want a normal life. I want to settle down somewhere. I don't want to be the "college student" anymore. I want to pay off my student loans from my undergrad and find a real job (even if it's flipping burgers somewhere). I want to learn to live as an adult that is not going to school. I want to be able to say if I do apply for PhD programs in the future that it was something I wanted more than anything else. I want to have tried the alternatives, and I want real-world experience beyond what simply moving to a new city and working summer jobs can offer me.

Although this is a somewhat bittersweet realization, it's definitely more sweet than bitter. It's bitter because my masters may very well be relatively worthless to me. It's sweet because I will have the chance to live a normal life. It's sweet because now the world is open to me in a whole new way than it was even when I moved out here to Bellingham.

Maybe I'll stay out here in Bellingham. Maybe I'll move back home(ish). Maybe I'll set out for Europe (ok, probably not). What I do know, though, is that if I ever do come back to the world of academia, it will be with the knowledge that it is the only thing for me.

And maybe this whole rant will be proved worthless when I go with plan A and apply to and get into a PhD program.

That's the beauty, I think, of not having a clue what the future holds. :)

I am fully convinced I live in the most wonderful city on earth. I never want to leave.

What does it mean to live without hope? Why do I allow myself to dream of the future only in a "that will never happen to me" sort of way? Why must I constantly shut down hopes of grad school with statements about my lack of worth and the eventuality of me working retail or waitressing? Why cannot I permit myself to dream unhindered by rationalizations?

While finding joy in the present is good and right, I want to be able to hope for the future. Not because it will necessarily happen. But because it is what I want to happen. Holding onto my dreams with open hands, but holding them nonetheless, perhaps I learn to live with even more joy in the present.

the beautiful curse

Most of the time I find joy in the mundane. In every day. In waking up in this beautiful city that I get to call my own for two years. In a beautiful sunset over a breath-taking bay or an idyllic sun-rise over the mountains. Most of the time I find joy in laughter, in irony, or in good conversation.

Today I will strive to find joy in hope.

Sometimes it seems as if the emergence of hope is more of a curse than anything. Especially when that hope is something that has always seemed elusive and unattainable in the first place. Especially when hope died for good reason. Along with the exhilarating nature of hope comes the crushing knowledge that it will probably be short-lived, just like every time before...

And yet, hope reminds me I'm alive. That my course is not set, and that life is full of good surprises. Hope reminds me that my Savior didn't stay dead. Hope reminds me of miracles, of grace, and of the beauty of a new morning.

And so I'll take the curse. I'll take the constant crush of emotion at the knowledge that this hope is so illusory and probably fleeting if it means that I get to experience the joy of the unknown, of hope untainted by knowledge of the future, of hope yet unsullied by experience.

life update

Well, it's been a while since I've posted a "mundane" blog entry. And I miss it, simply for its lack of controversy. So here we go.

School started yesterday. It's shaping up to be a delightful quarter. I'm TAing for two profs - one who is the new Modern Germany professor (:D) and one who is the prof I took a Canadian history seminar from last fall. I am really excited about the Modern Germany prof for obvious reasons (although the class I'm helping him with is just a general European history from 1713-present class), but I'm also really excited to get another chance to learn Canadian history. And she's SUCH a nice person. I think I will really enjoy working with her. I will also be helping with discussion groups in that class... dun dun dun...

I have moved and now live with people. It's different, but nice. I live way further from campus, which is weird, but I live close to the bus line so it's no big deal.

I've been sick for the past few days. But I woke up this morning and I am pretty sure the cold is on its way out! So I'm super excited about that. I have been medicating (with ibuprofen, dayquil, and Advil cold and sinus) heavily hoping to make it go away, and my theory about "symptoms only" medications working to take away a cold has once again been proved. I remember in high school and early college when I refused medication out of the idea that it wouldn't really help anything anyway. Not only was I miserable, but I was miserable for weeks or even months at a time. I remember one cold lasting from July to October because it turned into a sinus infection which I didn't treat and it just fed on itself for FOREVER. If I treat symptoms, it can't feed on itself, and I get better much more quickly. Which I'm all for. :)

I'm done at Walmart. Sad day. Sort of. They told me they'd be happy to take me back, though. So maybe I'll go back some day. lol...that's so sad. But, if I could stick around for long enough, it would *start* to be relatively well-paying. They do give decent yearly raises, and if I got into management it would also be more financially feasible. So if not ph-d...maybe retail. D: Not thrilled about that statement. Not thrilled at all.

the end of "church?"

Today I had the most incredible conversation. It wasn't at a small group, it wasn't at church, and it wasn't at a bible study. (most of the really good conversations don't happen at those places, anyway, sadly enough.) It happened spontaneously, and it changed so much for me.

Ironically enough, this conversation ended up being about the end of church as an institution. But that's getting ahead of myself...

The conversation in question began as a rather innocent discussion of the problems with doing "church" here in Washington (at least at the two churches represented in the conversation). Of the marketing schemes churches engage in in an attempt to drawn "seekers" in. The emphasis on evangelism in a "bring more people to our church rather than the one down the street" sort of way. The difficulty in getting people to come to Bible study, or if they come, to engage. The lack of true discipleship in favor of counting baptisms or numbers of people at the altar in a given year. The effort to gain members, to offer more "ministries," and to build a fancier building. The problem of trying to "church" an "unchurched" culture which sees no social obligation attached to church attendance.

I love the church that I attend. Or, perhaps more accurately, I love the people that make it up. Although we're not perfect (who is?), this post is not directed at any specific church. Rather, this post is directed at the ideal type American church. Basically, this post is directed at my perception of what "church" in America has become about.

Anyway, back at the ranch (figuratively speaking, of course), the conversation moved to my probable relocation next year, and the type of church I would look for after I move. My honest answer? I'm not sure that what I'm looking for in an "ideal church" (a hopelessly hypocritical contradiction in and of itself, given that one of the things that drives me nuts about American church is the need to find a church that perfectly caters to the perceived needs of the individual seeking a church) exists in the walls of a church building.

I think the church is dying, or at least is on its way to dying. Maybe it's already dead in any real sense. After all, on what is an institution built (even if built on an entirely true creed) if its members do not love their neighbors? If its members do not long for the things of God with every breath, what is its purpose? An elaborate social networking place? A place to hang out, to be served, and to go home feeling fed? What is the point of "truth" if it does not result in sacrificial love and service to the broken?

What I'm looking for is this: A small group of individuals who meet together regularly, (but in relative secret - see Matt 6:5 for my rationale), to pursue God together. A group who is committed to each other no matter the cost. A safe place where there is no "off topic" conversation topic. A group without a paid leader, without a budget of any kind, except an offering for the sole purpose of service to the hurting, broken, and lacking. A group who shares with one another as if they were blood relatives. A group who takes discipleship seriously, who is not afraid to walk the hard road, and who always pursues the narrow and elusive path of hardship even in the easy times. A group that is composed of believers who live sacrificially, loving their neighbors more than themselves. Believers that live fully in the world, loving the tax collectors and sinners - never forgetting that what they do to the least of these, they do to Jesus. A group that does "not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing," but also does not equate "church" with "best way of meeting together." I'm looking for a place where I can love God, where I can seek Him, where I can grow in my walk with him, where I can make disciples (and be discipled), and where I can lead and serve both my brothers and sisters and the world at large. Not so I can make a difference or change the world, but because I am coming to the conclusion that life is not about winning converts to a creed but about remaining true to Christ's call to love our neighbor as we love ourselves, no matter the personal cost.

That's what I want in a "church" (and I use that term loosely). And it's awfully utopian and awfully unrealistic. And I promise I don't want a cult. But it's what I want. Part of me hopes that this could spring from the church as it is now. A large part, because it would be so much less painful. But I believe that something big needs to change, and I want to give my life in pursuit of it.