unChristian

I am currently reading a book entitled unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity… and Why it Matters by David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons.

It is a book that has me heartbroken and compassionate and angry and inspired all at the same time. This book is the culmination of a research project commissioned by Lyons, founder of Fermi Project, and headed up by Kinnaman, president of The Barna Group, a research firm “focused on the intersection of faith and culture”.

This research was begun to determine how our generation (twentysomethings and those several years older and several years younger) currently perceives Christianity.

I am only through the first two chapters and already I see a perception that is not far off from what I had come to assume, one that shows that Christianity has gone off track.

There is an old song that goes, “They will know we are Christians by our love”. That should be convicting to the Church today, because, according to this research, the Church and Christians — we — are not being known for love, either of each other, or of those outside of the faith.

The entire New Testament is based on two principles: Truth soaked in Love. Everything that Jesus did was motivated by these principles and in everything the early Church did, they strived to likewise live these out. Somewhere in recent Church history, we lost the element of Love and began focusing primarily, almost solely, on Truth. And now today, there is a movement of Christianity that, in an attempt to rectify past wrongs, focuses primarily on Love, fearing to bring Truth to light.

I had long believed that we were perceived negatively and it is heartbreaking to read the truth of it on paper. It isn’t even the negative perception I struggle with. There will always be people who disagree with what I believe. It is why we are perceived negatively. It seems to be often because of hurt.

Christians aren’t perfect. We make mistakes. But we also struggle to admit when we are wrong. We struggle to accept people as they are. I don’t think it’s just a Christian thing. It’s a people thing. But a Christian is a Christ-follower, and based on that title, our model of how to live is Jesus Christ. He accepted people exactly as they were. He called a tax collector (considered the scourge of that society) to be in his closest circle of followers. He accepted the sacrifice of a “woman who had lived a sinful life” (here). He was present when a woman caught in the act of adultery was dragged into the street to be stoned and he released her. He convicted those wishing to stone her such that they all finally walked away without a single stone being thrown. And then, as if he didn’t know exactly what had happened, he turned to the woman and asked, “Where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
“No one, sir,” she responded.
“Then neither do I condemn you,” he said. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”
(here)

What a man! What a God!

And what a mess we have made of portraying Him to the world around us.

Regardless of faith, it is an interesting book thus far and I’m finding it to be a good read. I may or may not post more as I progress through the book, but for those interested, the upcoming chapters cover the following perceptions people have of Christians:

Hypocritical;
Only interested in “getting you saved!”;
Antihomosexual;
Sheltered;
Too political; and
Judgmental

I will, at the very least, post when I am finished, in case anyone is interested in reading it.

Washed clean

My brother made a mistake.

It’s interesting, because he made a mistake the way most of us make mistakes: early and oft-repeated. He was working on a math sheet, and in the very first question, he made a multiplication mistake due to an error in carrying the decimal place. All of the questions that followed were similar, and so, because he was so confident he had completed the first question correctly, he carried that same mistake through the rest of the worksheet.

At first, he didn’t understand the error I was pointing out to him. I took a separate sheet of paper and did the question while he watched, and I saw the realization slowly dawn on him.

“Does that make sense?” I asked him.

“Okay, but I’m still confused,” he said.

“What are you confused about?” I asked.

“Well, that means I have to do the whole thing again.”

“Ah,” I said, understanding dawning in my own mind. “So you aren’t confused, but rather frustrated.”

Yes, he was sincerely frustrated.

I told him to take a break — to take ten minutes of not doing homework before he came and tackled it again — and in these ten minutes, I’ve been sitting here trying to determine how to make this a positive learning experience. I am so unbelievably struck by the strong analogy that this situation is for how God deals with our mistakes, but it is an analogy that I don’t think he will be able to see at this point.

As much as he was frustrated that he had to re-do the worksheet, I think sometimes the hardest part about correcting a mistake is taking apart the work that’s already been done. His worksheet was entirely covered in pencil. Granted, pencil can be erased, and often, quite cleanly. But a pencil-covered sheet of paper represents work. And erasing it represents destruction, even if it is of work that is poorly or incorrectly done. He had begun erasing it, but it was in anger and frustration. The paper has a crinkle or two that is evidence of this. So I suggested that he take a break and remove himself from the situation.

From my perspective, mistakes in a math sheet are not earth-shattering. I do remember what it was like to be in his shoes. Having to do a math worksheet in the first place was an arduous and lengthy process, not to mention re-doing it. But years have passed and I have grown a little wiser. My state of mind was significantly calmer and so, while he was gone, I erased the page.

And it was during this erasing that I was struck with the analogy. Our sins of scarlet will be made white as snow, I thought, as I watched clean, white paper emerge from underneath the pencil markings. For this is what God does.

“Everything in your life that you learn,” I told the young one, “you will learn in one of two ways: either because someone tells you how to do it and you listen or because you make mistakes and then learn how to fix them. This is that second way. You’ve made a mistake and now you’re learning how to fix it.”

I didn’t do his homework for him. In fact, I didn’t even help him correct it. In fact, aside from the above, I haven’t said much more than encouragement since he’s come back out to try again. All that I did was I gave him a clean slate from which to start.

The interesting thing about that slate is that he did do two of the questions correctly. I looked at his work and debated for a moment before I erased the sheet completely.

And that is the part that frustrates us about God.

“This part was fine,” we say. “We did it correctly. The answer was right. This was fine. Why did you erase it?”

Because the truth is, even though his method and answers were correct for those few questions, his knowledge and understanding of why they were correct was incomplete. I wanted his new understanding to affect every part of the worksheet.

The situation this evening does not make for a perfect analogy, because I am not perfect and the young one is not perfect. But for just a moment, imagine that I was simply an observer, and that the stakes were higher than merely a math sheet, and instead of me helping my little brother correct his homework, we have God Incarnate cleansing the world of all the mistaken pencil lines, smudges, and blackened sheets.

I’ve written before (though maybe not here) about this world being an echo of the eternal. Our longings are for things that last, for that is how we have been designed. And tonight, the shadows of our interaction painted for me images of incredible colour and vibrancy. While I cleaned penciled errors from a sheet of paper, Jesus Christ cleans the indelible mark of sin from our lives.

New Year’s Resolutions redux

On January 1st of this year, I posted a list of resolutions on my Blogger site. That post can be found here.

We are just under two months away from the new year and so I think it would be worthwhile to examine my resolutions and how (or even if) I have improved in the course of the year since making them. This is actually the first time I have gone back and looked over resolutions from the past. Other years I have made them, but they were usually on a looseleaf sheet of paper or buried in a journal or school notebook, and so I never found them again before the new year was upon us. Over the past month, I have stumbled across my New Year’s Resolutions post several times, and so I think it is important that I make some examination of it.

The reason I chose each resolution is listed in the original post. Here, I shall simply state the resolution and how I think I have or have not improved.

1. I will be more decisive.

Hmm. Well, as with anything else, it is a work in progress. But I have noticed that my conversation is moving in this direction. Rather than taking an “I don’t care, whatever” approach, I am more able to approve and forward a plan. I am also noticing a greater initiative taken in bringing plans to fruition. As well, I have become far more able to declare when I don’t approve a plan. In the past, it was often the case that I would shrug and say, “Well, whatever” if I really didn’t want to do something. And while that is sometimes the appropriate response, I am learning to be honest with my opinion and perspective, especially when the person I am talking with would genuinely like to know the truth behind where I am coming from. Unless I notice any serious changes that need to be made in the next two months, I think I can safely graduate this from the list. While it is something I need to keep working on, I think I can safely move my focus in the new year.

2. I will remember that physical activity helps with stress management.

I don’t think it has been a conscious decision, but I have adopted regular physical activity into my lifestyle. Let me modify that statement. I have adopted regular physical activity that I enjoy into my lifestyle. As you are probably completely aware, I have taken up swing dancing, something that I do at least twice a week. I attend a weekly dance and I have enrolled in weekly lessons. As I said, it wasn’t a purposeful move. My thought process wasn’t “I need physical activity to help with stress management”; it was more “I love dancing, how can I get more involved?”. As a result, I have noticed that my stress level is reduced. Granted, it probably helps that I have completed my undergrad degree, but there is more peace and more energy in my life now than before when the physical activity I chose was less purposeful and less enjoyable.

3. I will breathe Scripture.

I composed an email several nights ago and in the course of it, I did something I have not done in a very long time: I quoted Scripture. I unconsciously quoted Scripture. I mean, I knew it was from the Bible, but my thought process wasn’t, “Oh, I think a verse should go here, wait, let me find one.” No, it was something that had been on my mind and in my heart, and so it naturally came in the course of my writing.

This, however, is one area that I know I can continue improving on. I still do not spend enough time in Scripture. It is a lot more regular than it used to be, but I am not purposeful in it, and I do not dwell in it as I would like. I re-read emails, poetry and novels with a regularity that puts my Scripture reading to shame. I do not know it as I would like. This, I think, will be something I keep into the new year. But I would like to focus on it differently. I am not sure how, but I have two months to continue contemplating this.

4. I will find a stronger rein for my tongue.

Uh oh. Yea, FAIL. I haven’t been purposeful about this one at all. This I will keep on my list.

5. I will not be afraid to make mistakes.

Another fail.

It’s funny, I have a lot to say about the areas where I feel improvement, but not nearly as much in the areas where I haven’t improved as I would like to.

If anything, I have become more afraid of making mistakes. So, this will likely stay on the list.

6. I will choose to live joyfully and full of hope.

This is a hard-earned success, one that I think is still hesitant in its display. But I think it is very worth encouraging it to bloom. You can either choose to live clouded by despair and fear or you can choose to live guided by joy and hope. I am choosing the latter. This will probably stay on the list, but I am not sure in what form.

7. I will have fun.

Yay, big success. I have had a lot of fun this past year. I wrote in my original post,

There is much to be done, much to be excited for, much to plan and hope and dream.

And how right I was. This will probably stay on, not because I have failed, but because it is important to remember. It is easy to get caught up in all of the to-do’s and should-do’s, but it is really important to remember to have fun while doing them.

Stay tuned come January 2009 for a brand new list of resolutions, and I would encourage you to think of some yourself. I think there are always ways that we can improve and by writing them down, it does then beg an examination of them later on. If you choose to write them on a public forum, send me a link, and we can see how we all are doing in the months to come.

God bless!

Noteworthy Professors II: Professor John North

One of the most inspiring courses I ever took was Victorian Poetry with Professor John North. I transcribed more sound bytes in the margins of my notes for that class than I did for any other. This is a man who loves God and who loves poetry, two of the loves of my own life, and so to listen to him speak several times a week was an incredible gift.

I remember attempting to describe this course to my friends. Professor North is an older gentleman who has had many experiences and who has seen much in his life. His students are privileged to hear of his experiences in his classes, and we are even more privileged to be able to listen to the wisdom that he has gleaned from his years on earth. Attending his class was like entering his living room. He invited us in and began speaking, and though he spoke of poetry, he could not help but give us knowledge greater than simply what the poet was trying to say.

Poetry, he says, is a way for us to “read experiences that are like our own, that we can identify with, that affirm ourselves.”

We discussed some of my favourite poets in this class – Tennyson, Hopkins, Arnold, Browning – and through each step of the course, we could see the above-quoted theme carrying through. While discussing Tennyson’s In Memorium and explaining to us why this poem was so popular when first published, North said,

Tennyson explores grief and put into words for people for the first time their internal worlds and emotions.

In Memorium was a poem that Tennyson wrote over the course of twenty years as he mourned the loss of his best friend. We all have these experiences and these “internal worlds and emotions”, but most of us cannot put words to them. With this poem, Tennyson took something that was incredibly well-experienced, but very rarely expressed (that is, grief), and finally put it to words. Poetry touches the ineffable.

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.

~Aldous Huxley

I would class poetry with music.

I found Professor North’s class to be an incredibly healing one. Through his class, he carried us into the very depths of the poem, often to the core of our souls, inviting us to examine what we found there, and to actually feel the emotions that we carried within us. It wasn’t that he was not content with a surface-level analysis of a poem; it was that remaining on the surface never even occurred to him. He is a man deeply in love with his wife, passionate about his God, and incredibly moved by the pieces he reads, and all of this came through in his lectures.

Poetry gives shape and a voice to our internal world; it affirms us, we are less alone.

The excitement in Hopkins is that his world makes sense. The problem is that oftentimes our world just doesn’t make sense. When the dark sonnets come, we can see that he has made sense in the non-sense. Despite the darkness, there is joy.

Poetry gives us an insight into other people’s hearts and minds, and into our own. It gives all of that shape, brings form out of chaos. We can understand what we never understood before, and through another’s writing, we realize it is true. It is satisfying both to have words for it, and to realize that someone else feels the way that we do. It takes the loneliness out of life.

It’s hard to fight with evil, but consider the consequence of not fighting with evil.

Evil cannot exist on its own; by definition, it is a perversion of good.

Even evil is under God’s authority.

[Poetry helps us to] accept the potential of the future, without rejecting the beauty of the past.

Poetry says far more than the poet knows he or she is saying.

Poetry is so powerful that it affects us to the core, even if we don’t know why.

We often only need to see something or hear something and we are transformed.

Be aware that you can’t study literature without being changed inside, in spite of yourself.

(the above all taken during Professor North’s Fall ‘07 Victorian Poetry class)

PB & J

I discovered this today, scribbled on a scrap of paper in with many other notes of a similar kind:

I’ve learned that strength and dignity are not lost through displays of weakness.

A silly example is when I confess to a friend that I cannot open a jar of jelly. I feel… laughably weak doing so, especially when this friend takes the jar and in one motion, twists off the lid. But to use this as a metaphor (ah, metaphors), in a very simple way, this is how the Body of Christ should look. I am strong in some areas, but I am also weak in others. If I readily display my strengths, but hide all of my weaknesses, two undesirable things happen. First of all, assuming everyone else is also hiding their weaknesses, my strengths become completely irrelevant. As far as I can tell, there isn’t anyone who needs what I have to offer. No one is weak, so what does it matter how strong I am? And the second problem is that we have all sorts of weaknesses, frayed threads, weak links, crumbling walls (whatever other image you’d like) and none of these areas are being addressed. No one is saying, “hey, I’ve got a leak in the dam over here, can anyone help me patch it up?” and so it continues leaking and eroding, growing weaker, spilling over, spilling out, and eventually breaking, sometimes in catastrophic ways. But when we confess our faults to one another (a trusted one another), when we admit our weaknesses, we find people who are strong in those very areas.

“Yea, I can’t open a jar of jelly, but I can whip up a mean grilled pb & j sandwich.”

And my friend says, “I can certainly open a jar of jelly *twist*, but grilled pb & j? I have no idea how to make that, but I sure am hungry.”

And there we are, filling each others needs, complimenting each others’ strengths and weaknesses and building each other up. When that is how we seek to live, our lives become inextricably intertwined, balancing each other out and becoming greater than we were just as ourselves.

Hopefully my metaphor can carry the point I am trying to make, despite being (as I’ve already admitted), a rather silly example

And just for the record, grilled pb & j is for real. And mighty tasty, especially if you’ve got a sweet tooth. If you can help me get this darn jar open, I could be persuaded to make one for you

Grooved pavement

The problem with being an English student and a writer is that you cannot help but see metaphors for your life in everyday experiences. Everything means something. Everything matters. Or maybe that has nothing to do with that and everything to do with my idealistic tendencies. Either way.

I was driving home from a friend’s birthday party last night (Happy Birthday, Sarah!). I tend to develop habits pretty quickly, and the one I’m talking about right now is how I drive to and from my University town. I used to always only drive country roads there and back. This summer, because I’ve been finding myself leaving my University town late at night (say 10 or 10:30), I tend to drive there using country roads, but back on the highway. Should something happen to my car, I guess, I’d prefer to be stranded on the side of a well-traveled highway, rather than on some back road somewhere that few cars travel.

So anyway, a couple of months ago, I was in town for an old roommate’s wedding (which was delightful, by the way). It was very late by the time I left, so naturally, I chose the highway to head home. After being on the highway for probably an hour and a bit, I noticed a sign on the side of the road: “Grooved Pavement”. I didn’t really know what it meant, and in fact, didn’t pay it too much mind until I was suddenly traveling over this grooved pavement. I guess they were in process of fixing up the road. The tires rubbing over this grooved surface made a load loud whir, and the whole car vibrated as it passed over each section of grooved pavement. It was a frustrating experience. I was tired, and this I found to be consternating. And it didn’t stop. I would travel over a section of pavement and once I was back on the old surface, I would breathe a sigh of relief and settle in again, only to be jarred when the car hit another patch. The journey was like this for probably 20 minutes, but it felt much longer.

Since that wedding, I’ve been back in my University town several times for different events, and coming home has always been the same: entering the highway, forgetting about the grooved pavement until the sign and then feeling frustration for that part of the journey.

Finally, this last trip, I think I had gotten used to it. I was heading home and I saw the sign still up, and I mentally sighed. Oh well, I thought. I was used to it by now. I’d just have to go through that frustration for a little bit and then forget about it for the rest of the journey.

I cannot even describe the shock it was when I drove over the dark, blissfully smooth new pavement that had been placed over the grooves in the highway since the last time I drove it. I didn’t believe it at first. I thought maybe that segment of new pavement had always been there. But as the journey continued, and the road switched back and forth from old pavement to new, I was convinced. They had finally re-paved the grooved segments of the highway. And not only that, the old pavement that used to be a relief when there was grooving, was now noticeably bumpy and uncomfortable compared to the new pavement. It was incredible.

The hardships in our life feel like that most of the time. When they first hit us, they are surprising and frustrating and anxiety-inducing. We can’t understand why they’re there. Perhaps at first, we can believe that they are there to fix what was wrong in the first place. But as the days, weeks, months go by, we find relief in what has been left alone. This area of my life is fraught with difficulty, but that area is ever as it always was—ah, relief.

And every time we encounter those difficulties, it hurts and baffles us. Why? we ask. Was it not fine the way it was? And eventually we drift into complacency. Not a happy complacency, but a dull one. Yes, this is hard, we acknowledge, but I am so tired. We learn how to survive, how to get through the hardships while remaining intact emotionally, even if the only way to do so is to dull ourselves to the pain.

And we believe that the pain will always be there. That part of my life is always going to be this way, always grooved and difficult, ruined.

But that isn’t God’s plan for our lives.

I don’t know the purpose for the grooving of the highway, but I understand that it is part of the process of repaving. It is necessary, even though it is inconvenient, frustrating, etc. And even though the grooving seems to be there indefinitely, eventually new pavement is laid. The plan is never to leave the grooving there, but the grooving is an essential part of making the road anew.

That’s the way it is for the pain in our life. The plan is never to leave the pain there, but it is an essential part of refining us. God must tear down the parts of our life that He wants to remake in order to rebuild us the way He wants for us to be. I think we look at those areas, just after He has started working on them, as having been just fine. “You could have left them alone, you know?” we cry bitterly. “They were fine just the way they were.” But at the end of it all, the difference is incredible. The new is better than the broken, obviously, but it is also even better than the old. But to get from old to new, we must go through the process of brokenness. But the result is incredible. It is better than we could have imagined.

Keep traveling, I say. He will make all things new, in His time.

“Why get married?”

Because I have a lot of friends who are married or who soon will be, an answer to the question why.

I follow a lot of blogs. All of them amuse, interest and, in most cases , educate me. They make me think and on many occasions, I have wanted to share what I’ve read, but it doesn’t always happen. Either I forget, or I have something else in mind I want to blog about. I also don’t want the total number of posts I write about other blogs to exceed the number of original posts I have .

This blog isn’t one that I follow all that closely, but I subscribed to it, mostly because of the way Hayden Tompkins, the author, uses language. So while I don’t follow this blog closely, there are some posts that just reach out and grab me. Like the one I linked to above.

Obviously, I don’t necessarily agree with or subscribe to all of what is written in the article, but I think that some wonderful points are made. It is certainly worth reading and considering what the application for your own life might be (single or married, because, after all, the call to love is a universal one, not just reserved for those doe-eyed, soon-to-be-married or already-there types).

Tell me what you think! Or drop a line over at Persistent Illusion. Actually, no, no “or”. It has to be “and”. If you leave a comment there, then you should be thinking, “And I’ll leave one at Faith, Hope and Love as well, because I know how much Tara wants to read what I have to say.”

Aargh, targeted advertising…

[from several weeks ago]

I just signed onto a website that has my birthdate and my relationship status listed (yes, okay, it was Facebook). For the past several weeks, whenever I signed on, there were advertisements on the site with titles like, “Still single? Click here for…” you know, life, love, eternal happiness, all that jazz. So, naively, I wondered why there was constant advertising in the sidebar for singles websites. It wasn’t until just now that I realized why. The title of the ad today was, “22 and still single?” Jeepers, creepers, come on! They were using information listed on my profile to tailor their advertisements. Lame.

*sigh*

And so I am now going to go and change my relationship status on Facebook.

[present]

But now I am seeing all sorts of weight loss ads in the side bar (you know, because being female automatically means that I’m desperate to lose weight </sarcasm>). Does this mean I need to remove my gender from Facebook? One ad even said “Overweight female at 22?”. Yea, thanks guys. Sheesh. Do I need to even remove my birthdate to be free from targeted advertising?

I don’t mind some targeted ads. Gmail’s ads I find interesting, amusing, and more important, unobtrusive. These obnoxious Facebook ads are annoying me. I wonder if sellers realize that abrasiveness is not the most effective method? Usually what works is identifying what the general population desires but is missing, and then offering it at a good (but not too good) price. Well, the FB ads have half of that right. But the other half is just lame and makes me want to delete them and/or click away.

It’s sort of interesting. The internet is really the only place where advertisements are forced on us. In every other medium, we can find some way to turn them off. In the paper or a magazine, we can flip by them or tear them out. On TV we can mute them or change channels. Even going to the theatre, we can arrive several minutes after the show starts to avoid the previews. But on the internet there are banner ads and sidebar ads and pop-up ads that force themselves upon us. We can’t help but be exposed to them, barraged by them. I wish there was a way to tear out what advertising I found annoying from the sites I read.

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Trust

Trust is an active verb.

I was thinking about this recently. A lot of times, we say that we trust someone or trust in something, but we don’t take actions that actually indicate this trust. As an example, say we come to a bridge that we need to cross. We can look at it and analyze it, decide that it is sound and say that we trust it to hold our weight, but if we never put that trust to the test, if we never actually set foot on that bridge, do we really trust it?

Hopefully this tidbit will get your thoughts going Feel free to share musings of your own.

400 pages of set-up, 200 pages of delight

[from Saturday night / early, early Sunday morning]

I have finished Gone with the Wind. It is 1 in the morning.

At 11:30, my mom came in the room, a knowing smile on her face.

“How’s the book going?”

A silly grin was my only response.

“Are you going to stay up to finish it?” she asked.

A guilty grin and a nod.

She chuckled and pointedly glanced at the clock.

“I know,” I said, but maintained my plan.

The title is essentially my response to the tale. The first 400 pages seemed to be building action for the delight of the last 200. Not to say the first 400 weren’t delightful (because they were). But in the last two hundred pages, we see the transformation of the characters, tragedy and anguish, love and passion (and love of every sort: between husband and wife, brother and sister, friend to friend).

I feel so achingly empathetic, and yet completely satisfied in the ending of the book. (If you plan on reading it, don’t you dare cheat by starting there! ). It is simply delightful.

I’m writing this at 1am, but I am going to wait until Sunday afternoon to post it, because I am going to enjoy that still feeling that comes after finishing a truly satisfying book. So Sunday afternoon, I will post this and ask for what I mentioned in my last post. Any suggestions that you have been harbouring as to what book I should add to my reading list I will now gratefully accept! I’m hoping for classics, but if you have any suggestions from any other genre/era, I just might start another list. The only other condition is that it must be a book that you have loved, and (or) it must be one that has impacted you deeply.

Thanks for your recommendations! I look forward to growing my reading list